BR 60 .L52 v.l Augustien The confessions of LIBRARY OF FATHERS OF THE HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH, ANTERIOR TO THE DIVISION OF THE EAST AND WEST. TRANSLATED BY MEMBERS OF THE ENGLISH CHURCH. YET SHALL NOT THY TEACHKR,'^ BE REMOVED INTO A CORNER ANY MORE, BUT THINE EYES SHALL SEE THY TEACHERS. IsaiaJl XXX. 20. VOL. I. OXFORD, JOHN HENRY PARKER ; J. G. AND F. RIVINGTON, LONDON. MDCCCXXXVIII. HAXTEK, I'lUNTER, DXrORD. TO THE MOST REVEREND FATHER IN GOU WILLIAM LORD ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, PRIMATE OF ALL ENGLAND, FORMERLY REGIUS PROFESSOR OK DIVINITY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORU, THIS LIBRARY OF ANCIENT BISHOPS, FATHERS, DOCTORS, MARTYRS, CONFESSORS, OF CHRIST'S HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH, IS WITH HIS grace's PERMISSION RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, IN lOKKN OF REVERENCE FOR HIS PERSON AND SACRED OFFICE, AND OF GRATITUDE FOR HIS EPISCOPAL KINDNESS. THE CONFESSIONS OF S. AUGUSTINE. THE CONFESSIONS o? S. AUGUSTINE iioo REVISED FKOM A FORMER TRANSLATION, BY THE REV. E. B. PUgEY, D.D. V^ITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM S. AUGUSTINE HIMSELF. OXFORD, JOHN HENRY PARKER; J. G. AND F. RIVINGTON, LONDON MPCCCXXXVTII. PREFACE^^ CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE. The general objects of the " Library of the Fathers," have been ah-eady summarily stated **. It may however be well, before entering on the particular work with which the series is commenced, to make a few observations with reference to such misapprehensions, or errors, as are not unlikely to arise. For though certainly it should seem, that the writings of men, ever venerated hy the Church on w^hom they were be- stowed, ought to be received with thankfulness; yet, in the present state of things, some will perhaps rather be suspicious of the gift, through want of familiarity with the Fathers themselves, and the principles of our Church, with regard to their value. A few words then may here be said, for the sake of such as are honestly in doubt on the subject. More will be avoided, lest we should seem to wish to be heard ourselves, when our only wish is to obtain a hearing for those ancient wit- nesses of Catholic truth, and ourselves also to listen to them. At the same time, it must be said in the outset, that " authority" is not put forth as the use of the Fathers; it is dwelt upon thus prominently, only because it is an use, about which many misapprehensions exist. These misconceptions may be referred to three heads. 1. The amount oi authority claimed: 2. Foj- ivhom : and, 3. '^ For what that authority is claimed. For it seems by some to be thought, that, 1. The authority of the Fathers will interfere with the paramount authority of Holy Scripture. 2. That it ^ Prospectus. See end of the vol. b ii PREFACE. involves ascribing undue authority to men fallible like our- selves, and exalting the dicta of one or the other Father, which may be erroneous. 3. That the appeal to the Fathers entails a disparagement of the authority of our own Church, and innovations upon her discipline or doctrine. They, who so think, are of course right to be jealous for these things, — if only they be careful that they are jealous for the authority of Holy Scripture and of our Church, not for their own constructions of either ; — every Churchman should be careful that he place not any private authority, whether of ancient or modern, Father or recent teacher, domestic autho- rity or foreign. Churchman or Sectarian, above that of his Church, or put any human authority on a par with Holy Scripture. Our Church, however, once, solemnly met, did ascribe considerable authority to the Fathers, and it will be plain, both from the circumstances, and from the tenor of the words which she used, that she therein neither derogated from her own legitimate authority, nor from the supreme authority of Holy Scripture. It is plain from the circumstances, because it was the act of the Convocation of A.D. 1571, the same Convocation, which enforced Subscription to our Articles, — an act certainly evidencing their sense of the power of a par- ticular Church, and one involving the claim of considerable authority; and those Articles decidedly recognizing Holy Scripture, as the sole ultimate source of authority. In this very Convocation, in which she exerted her own authority, she secured also the legitimate authority of the Fathers. She then enacted. Clergy shall be careful never to teach any thing FROM the pulpit, TO BE RELIGIOUSLY HELD AND BELIEVED BY THE PEOPLE, BUT WHAT IS AGREEABLE TO THE DOCTRINE OF THE Old or New Testament, and collected out of THAT same DOCTRINE BY THE CaTHOLIC FATHERS, AND ANCIENT Bishops. Thus at the same time that she was, by enforcing subscrip- tion to the Articles, fencing herself round, as a particular PREFACE. iii Church, she formally maintained her connection with the Church Catholic, and made provision that her Ministers should not narrow her teaching, but retain it as co-extensive with that of the Universal Church. The very language of this Canon itself shews, that the rightful authority of the Fathers interferes neither with that of Holy Scripture, nor with her own. First then, there is no semblance of " contrasting Scripture and the Fathers, as coordinate authority." Scripture is reve- renced as paramount ; the " doctrine of the Old or New Testament" is the source ; the " Catholic Fathers and ancient Bishops" have but the office of " collecting out of that same doctrine ;" the Old and New Testaments are the fountain ; the Catholic Fathers, the channel, through which it has flowed down to us. The contrast, then, in point of authority, is not between Holy Scripture and the Fathers, but between the Fathers and us ; not between the Book interpreted and the interpreters, but between one class of interpreters and another; between ancient Catholic truth and modern private opinions ; not between the word of God and the word of man, but between varjdng modes of understanding the word of God. Scripture is the depositary of the will of our Heavenly Father, His will, His covenant ; but since every thing conveyed in the language of men will be liable to be by men differently inter- preted, it would, of course, be a merciful provision of Al- mighty God, if He has been pleased to give us, within certain limits, rules for understanding that word. Now any one would acknowledge, in any man's testament, that if the father, when yet with his children, had explained to them the meaning of his testament, (whether formally reading it to them, or con- veying to them its substance in other words,) such an exposi- tion would be of great authority in ascertaining the meaning of the general tenor of that testament, or of any portion of it which might otherwise seem capable of two interpretations. And if such children, when their father was no longer present here, were, when asked, without any wrong bias, to explain b2 \y preface. such will in one and the same way, and to declare that their father had told them that it was so to be understood, we should yield unhesitating assent to this testimony. Nor again would our value for that testimony be w^eakened, if, instead of the immediate children, the children's children should be the witnesses, especially had they been separated from each other in different countries, yet all agreed in the meaning which they had learnt from their several parents was to be attached to the will of their common father. All such illustrations as this must indeed fall short of the truth, because such refer- ence to the things of men can furnish no adequate parallel to those of God. Thus, this illustration omits, that Holy Scrip- ture is not a formal document, written for the purpose of conveying systematic, precise, statements ; or, again, that God did not leave the meaning of His word to be collected any how, or ever did employ it without living guardians and ex- pounders, and the like. It suffices, however, for the purpose for which it is here used. It gives an instance, how in the case of such agreement as to the meaning of a document, no one would doubt about it ; (the testimony of the sons of Jona- dab, the son of Rechab, was valid testimony as to that which their father commanded them;) nor, in the case of a written document, would any one say that these witnesses were re- garded as equal in authority to that to whose meaning they bore testimony, since the very fact of appealing to, and ex- pounding an original document, implies that it is the ultimate source of authority ; it is not, as men say, its independence, but ours, which is denied; it is the independent source of authority; but ive, to be satisfied of its meaning, are not inde- pendent, (as some would wish to be,) but depend upon the testimony of others. These points then are plain; 1. The paramount authority of the document appealed to. 2. The au- thority of concurring testimony to its meaning, if it is to be had from those to whom its meaning was originally explained, or their descendants. Now this is just what is claimed by our Church for the Fathers, i. e. for the ancient Church, in what- PREFACE. V ever way its testimony is to be collected ; whether they had themselves occasion to deposit it once for all, as at the General Councils (truly so called), or whether, though not collected by themselves, it is still capable of being collected from them. They are witnesses, and in whatever cases agreement is to be had, they are valid witnesses, as to the sense in which God willed His Scripture to be understood. Thus, we are assured at once, without further scruple, that the Nicene Creed contains the Scriptural Doctrine of the Holy Trinity, not only in case any can prove it to themselves to be such, (for as to some of its Articles many might find much difficulty in so doing,) but because we have the witness of the whole Church that it is so. We believe that it " may be proved by most certain warrant of Holy Scripture," (Art. VHI.) because it ivas so proved, and the Church Universal bore wit- ness that such was the meaning of Holy Scripture on these awful truths, and that such was the interpretation which they had received from their fathers, and so from the Apostles. It is our privilege, that questions so decided are closed — not against us, but for us — or, if we so will, for us against our- selves. We have ground to be satisfied that the results so gained are true, and may benefit by them, without the labour of further questioning. We are satisfied to " receive them as agreeable to the Doctrine of the Old and New Testaments," even because " the Catholic Fathers and ancient Bishops have gathered it out of that very Doctrine," for us as well as for themselves. The Fathers, then, are not, as some mistakenly suppose, equalled, much less preferred, to Holy Scripture, but only to ourselves, i. e. the ancient to the modern, the waters near the fountain to the troubled aestuary rolled back- ward and forward by the varying tide of human opinion, and rendered brackish by the continued contact with the bitter waters of this world, unity to disunion, the knowledge of the near successors of the Apostles to that of these latter times. The same will be the case as to any other truths, *« consen- taneous to the Doctrine of the Old and New Testament," vi PREFACE. which the Fathers had not occasion to collect, but which still may be collected from their existing works. The Creeds, indeed, happily contain the great mass of Doctrine, although even as to these, (as is apparent from the very expositions of the Creeds, e.g, Bp. Pearson's,) a further enquiry is necessary to ascertain what is the precise meaning of these compendious statements in some of their Articles. The process in such cases may be longer, but the result the same. We become assured that we know what was the Apostolic doctrine, when we have the agreement of early and independent witnesses as to that Doctrine. 2. There can be no notion of " appealing to fallible men, as of ultimate authority, or setting up unduly the authority of one or other of the Fathers.'' The appeal of our Church is not to the Fathers, individualli/, or as individuals, but as witnesses ; not to this or that Father, hut to the lohole body, and agreement of '^ Catholic Fathers and ancient Bishops." The appeal is not to St. Athanasius, or St. Cyprian, or St. Basil, much as we have reason to venerate those blessed servants of God, but to " the Church Universal throughout the world," to whose belief these are eminent, but still single, witnesses. We could not tell, from any single Father, unless where he directly avers it, whether any sentiment or statement of doctrine be peculiar to himself or his own Church, or to some particular Churches, or whether, finally, it belong to the belief of the Holy Church Universal. It may be, that any given Father, on some parti- cular point, is not speaking as a witness at all, but expressing only his own individual sentiments, as an enlightened Chris- tian of the present day might. Not but that he would even then be to be regarded with deference by individuals, (unless indeed he should be at variance with the majority of the ancients,) but it would be, in part, in a different capacity. We should regard him then with respect, in that he lived in holier and more self-denying times, before the Church was divided, while the memory of the truths first delivered was fresher, and men's perception of the " analogy of the Faith" PREFACE. vii more vivid. There would be greater likelihood that he would be in the right, as an individual, in that the tone of his mind would be more likely to be in entire accordance with that of the Holy Spirit, that he would have larger measures of that Spirit, and have no opposing prejudices to disturb His influence. There would be a greater likelihood also of his being a witness, in that the statement, which he was delivering, may very pro- bably have been affected or produced by the body of Catholic truth then floating in the Church, but which has not arrived orally down to us, or for which we have, through later circum- stances, a less keen perception. Still, we have thus far only a probability that he was herein speaking the truth, and it might be that he was under some secret bias of his own, as St. Augustine has generally been held to be with regard to some part of his controversy with the Pelagians. The words then of an individual Father may be only those of an enlight- ened man ; it is only by their harmony or unity with others, that we ascertain them to be part of the Catholic Verities. By comparing them with those of other members of his Church, (who have ever been quoted as of eminence in each Church,) we should ascertain them to be the doctrines of that Church; by comparison with other Churches, to be part of the teaching of the Church Catholic. Each Father is, in the first instance, probably a witness for the doctrine of his own Church, and indirectly, and ultimately, through his Church, of the Church Catholic, if so be his Church herein agree with the other Churches. For, some things we find in the African, some in the Latin Church, peculiar to those Churches ; some things, again, in two or more Churches, which yet we have no proof that they were ever Catholic. Things so held, or prac- tices so received, (such as the re-baptizing of heretics, held in the Churches of Africa proper, Egypt, Asia Minor,) would, of course, be entitled to their degree of weight, in that they were so entertained in ancient or Apostolic Churches, and would claim the more respect, if it should appear that there was no positive evidence on the other side, (as in case other Churches viii PREFACE. knew not of them, but knew of no authority positively opposed to them ;) — still they would be to be regarded very differently from what was universally received. It is this only, which, according to Vincentius' invaluable rule, was received " by all, in all Churches, and at all times," (i. e. that, whose begin- ning cannot be traced, so that it should appear that the Church ever knew not of it, and in the evidence of whose reception there are no flaws, as if it should appear not to have been held either by distinct Churches, or by eminent individuals in each Church,) w^hich has the degree of evidence, upon which we can undoubtingly pronounce that it is Apostolic. 3. Our Church being a sound member of the Church Ca- tholic, " there is no notion of innovating upon her doctrine or practice," but rather of bringing out more fully how Catholic that doctrine and practice are, to determine in many cases what the meaning of her teaching is, to shew that to be Catholic and Primitive, and so Apostolic, which people, because they have only seen it in our Church, think to be human. Thus, much doctrine is contained in our Collects, much in our Sacramental Services, which, as belonging to high antiquity, can only be fully understood by means of that antiquity, whence it is derived; and w^hich, so understood, will appear in its real character, as part of those primitive ordinances or teaching, which the Apostles were guided by the Holy Spirit to establish or impart in the Churches, which they severally founded. Thus, as far as any appeal is made to antiquity, as in the other case, it is made, not to the disparagement of Scripture, (God forbid !) but against modern interpretations of Scripture, so here it is made, not against our own Church, or as wishing to superadd any thing to it, but against modern misinterpretations of her meaning. The great object of prac- tical and reverential men, must be, for a long time, confined to bringing out her existing system, in its depth, beauty, and fulness: if it should please God, that these should be ever fully and generally appreciated and felt in the Church, not with the patronizing pretensions of '* friends of the Church," PREFACE. ix but with the dutiful devotion of sons, they, whose minds shall have been so purified and enlightened, will doubtless be guided to do what is best for their parent ; our office is not to amend her, but respectfully to learn her real character our- selves, and convey it to those who wish to know it. Rather, the office of the present generation is to restore her sons to her ; and she, when she shall again be raised from the dust, and have put on her jewels, like a bride, will be led by the Spirit of the Church, to do what is best for her children. What is done for the Church, as a whole, must be done by the Church, as a whole. The object then of recalling men's attention to the Fathers, so far as relates to the establishment of doctrine or practice, is, siibordinately to Scripture, to bring out the meaning of Holy Scripture, and, with respectful deference to our Church, to lead people to see the Catholic and Primitive character and meaning of the treasures which she possesses. To those, who doubt whether there be any such thing as Catholic agree- ment, having been accustomed to partial statements of the variations of the Fathers, it can only be said, as of old time, " Come and see ;" and we doubt not that they, who have the candour of Nathanael, will, under the guise of flesh, see Him "Whom they seek, will, in His Church, see Him, Who promised to be with His Church, " even to the end of the world," per- vading by His Spirit men of different temperaments, intellec- tual powers, learning, speech, discipline or depth or acuteness of mind, but fitting them alike, by docility and holiness, to carry on His message to the Church, and keep and transmit to us that one good thing committed unto them. Meanwhile one or two rem^arks or cautions may be of use, as well to prepare the more candid of those who have mis- givings about this study, to receive them, as not to receive them amiss. It is not denied then, that there is diversity among the Fathers ; the very contrary is implied in the very distinction of what is Catholic, and what is not ; since, if there were no X PREFACE. diversity, all would be Catholic. But then, as Bp. Beveridge ^ well retorts the objection, " all the dissensions which have been raised among them on certain points, take nothing from their supreme authority on those points on which they agree, but rather in an eminent degree confirm it. For the fact that in other things they have differed, most plainly manifests, that those things, on which they have agreed, they have handed down, not from any compact or agreement, not from any party formed, not from any communication of design, nor, finally, from their own private opinions, but naked and unadul- terated, as derived from the common and general interpretation of the Universal Church. And, indeed, although on certain less necessary points, as well of faith as of discipline, the ancient Fathers do in some little degree differ one from an- other, yet that very many things have been received with the fullest agreement by all, is so clear, that we may judge of it with our own eyes. For there are many things, which we see have been defined by the Universal Church in Councils truly oecumenical, many things which have been approved by the consent of several, many things by the consent of all the writers of the Church; many things, finally, concerning which there was in ancient times no controversy moved; some of this class have been mentioned by us above, to which very many others may be added; those especially, which, although not definitively prescribed in Holy Scripture, have yet been retained by our very pious and prudent reformers of the English Church." Any one, indeed, who would reflect how many subjects are contained in our Creeds, and how many other truths these involve, how many again in our Liturgy, and how many prac- tices and rites are herein contained, on all which there was universal agreement in the ancient Church, will be slow to receive the vague assertions of the discordancy of her teachers, ^ In his most valuable preface to the of Lirins' C'ommonitory, Oxford, 1836, (Joilt'X Canonum. The translation pre- has been employed. fixed to the Translation of Yincentius PREFACE. xi which are wont to be made by such as have but a superficial acquaintance with Christian antiquity. For a superficial ac- quaintance, and a superficial view, will only see discrepancy, where to one who can see a little below the surface, all is unity and harmony. The rills are different, the spring one. Then, also, the points of disagreement (where there is such) are offshoots, so to speak, remotely connected with the trunk, not the main stem of doctrine or practice : or they are details, where agreement is in principle; or they are points, which have been left free for the human mind to expatiate upon, and on which no definite result has been communicated, or is to be looked for. Disagreement on such points does not affect agreement upon the others, unless there be no such thing as partial knowledge, or because " we know in part," we know nothing, and are to be sceptics, because we are not " as God." As, indeed, these notions of Christian antiquity originate in an unconscious, and may, and have ended, in a conscious, scepticism. There is, indeed, one ground, on which people rest their despair of finding agreement in Christian antiquity, (per- haps, more truly in many cases, their hope that they may find none against themselves,) which deserves respect, for the sake of the source whence it is drawn : the descriptions of early divisions and heresies, in Holy Scripture. But the infer- ence is founded on two mistakes; 1. The divisions were not between the recognized teachers of the Church; nor arose in misapprehensions of their doctrine ; but the carnal among those who were taught, " would not endure sound doctrine ;" and so " heaped to themselves" heretical " teach- ers." Thus Paul and ApoUos taught the same doctrine ; it is the rivalry of heretical teachers, which St. Paul condemns; in speaking whereof, St. Paul " transfers to himself and Apollos" what others were guilty of, that they might " learn in them," that there was to be no private teaching or authority in the Church ; no name, however high, was to be set up as being any thing individually; but all were to " speak the xii PREFACE. same thing %" as having but one Gospel to deliver, and "with one mind, one mouth, glorify God**." 2. The authors of these heresies ceased to be members of the Church, " they went out from us;" so that one must not only speak of heresies, or heretical teachers " creeping into the Church," but of their being ejected out of it. They strove to assimilate themselves to it, but they could not ; the inherent vitality of the Church separated and rejected them from it; and if they still appeared on its surface, no one could any more mistake them for the Church, than in a fair human countenance they would the foul matter, which the healthy action of the body had detached from itself. Hence St. Augustine takes blame to himself, for not having been at pains to ascertain the Church's doc- trine, and having carped at what, after all, w^ere but his own notions of it^. So then he might have known it, had he pleased. There was a recognized body of Catholic truth, which belonged to the Church, and which whoso willed, might know to be her's. The modern doubts as to the meaning of the Church had no place then. In truth, the existence of early heresies, so far from at all disparaging Catholic unity, the more illustrates it ; there was unity within the Church, and that unity so living and so powerful, that whoso abandoned the true doctrine ceased to be a member of it ; " they went out from us, because they were not of us." " The rejection of heretics," says St. Augustine \ " makes the tenets of Thy Church and sound doctrine stand out more clearly." Even in a less healthy state of the Church, it becomes clear in the long run, which was of the Church, which was i?! the Church only ; no one, for instance, would mistake Hoadley for a representative of the English Church, though the Church had not strength to cast hkn out, but he sat in high office within her. The waters clear as they flow on ; much more then, when the primitive awe of the Church was so great, and her consciousness of the sacredness of her deposit so vivid, that c 1 Cor. 1,10. e Conf. vi. $. 4, 5. pp. 89, 90. d Rom. 15, 6. *■ Conf. vii. $. 25. p. 128. PREFACE. xiii they who violated it, stood convicted as offenders and aliens, and " went away ashamed." And not only was the line thus distinctly drawn between the Church, and the heretical depravations of her doctrine, but, even within the bosom of the Church, Christian antiquity itself stamped the peculiar opinions, even of those whom in the main it honoured. We ourselves also, in that we speak familiarly of the harshness of Tertullian, the predestinarianism of St. Austin, Origen's speculativeness, Arnobius' deficient ac- quaintance with the Gospel he defended, are witnesses that there is a tangible distinction between Catholic truth and individual opinion. We discovered not these peculiarities for ourselves, nor that they were peculiarities ; they were not dis- covered by any moderns, nor was it by reference to any standard of our own, that we knew them to be such ; they came down to us in the stream, along with-our knowledge of the writers themselves, and previous to any acquaintance of our own with them ; i. e, together with the doctrines, and opinions, which are known to have been held by the Fathers of the Christian Church, there were handed down to us certain criteria, whereby to judge of them. We have not received (as many now seem to think) a confused heap of opinions, expositions, doctrines, errors, which we are to unravel as we may, but a well-ordered body of truth, digested into its several compartments, and arranged, what was accepted, what unde- cided, what rejected, for those who wish to see. Those who will, may indeed dispute, whether Catholic truth be indeed truth, or whether it must not first be submitted to their own private judgment, to receive its stamp, and so be received, not on its own authority, but on theirs, not because it is in itself truth, but because it appears to a given individual to be such. But they who will, will have no difficulty in ascertaining what Catholic Truth is. It is plain, well-defined, uniform, con- sistent. Only we must not set up an estimate of that Truth for our- selves, and make that a criterion of it, or decide that those xiv PREFACE. things can be no portion of it, which are contrary to our own received notions. It may be, for instance, that systems of interpretation, which are now almost universally abandoned, are true, however foreign they may be to our notions, or though to us, as being foreign, they must at first needs seem fanciful. It is a vulgar and common-place prejudice, which would measure every thing by its own habits of mind, and condemn that as fanciful, to which it is unaccustomed, simply because it, confined and contracted by treading its own matter- of-fact round, cannot expand itself to receive it, or has no power to assimilate it to its own previous notions, or adapt them to it. It is the same habit, which would laugh at one, who came from a foreign clime, in a garb to which a peasant- eye is unwonted. " He who laughs first," says Dr. Johnson, " is the barbarian." A deeper philosophy sees harmony, where the unobservant sees only discord. There is a deep unity in Creation, though the Manichaeans could resolve its phaenomena, only upon the theory of two opposing principles; and that unity is not the less there though he cannot see it. There is a deep unity also in the Primitive Church, God's new Creation, although to those who reject the clue, it may become an entangled labyrinth. It were absurd for the short- sighted and unpractised to deny the existence of what them- selves see not; what one of practised sight sees, is there, although such as have been inured all their lives to look on the surface of the ground close before them, see it not. The horses and chariots of fire were round about Elisha, although his servant saw them not, until, at the Prophet's prayer, " the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw" what the Seer had all along seen^ The Angel of the Lord stood three times in the way to withstand Balaam, and the ass saw him, though the prophet saw not, but " smote the ass," who saved him from being slain, until the Lord, who had " opened the mouth" of the " dumb ass, speaking with man's voice," to " forbid the madness of the prophet," " opened the eyes of <" 2 Kings 6, 13—17. PREFACE. XV Balaam, and he saw the Angel of the Lord standing in the way, and his sword drawn in his hand." The voice came really from the cloud, although they who had no ears to hear, " said that it thundered." Saul saw Him, Whom he was persecuting, and heard His words, although they that were with him heard only an indistinct voice, and saw a light, but they " heard not His voice," and " saw no man^:" or though Festus thought him mad for attesting what he had seen. And not in cases only of extraordinary revelations, but as an universal rule, St. Paul says, " the carnal man cannot know the things of the Spirit of God, because they are spiritually discerned^;" he does not simply turn away from them, but being or having become what he is, he cannot see them, because he has not the faculty whereby they are discerned. Nor is that prayer without meaning, " Open Thou mine eyes, that I may behold won- drous things out of Thy law^" It may be then that they who mock at the spiritual interpretations of the ancient Church, do so because themselves are carnal; and it is antecedently probable, because they do mock. At any rate, we must not decide in our own cause ; we may not be " our own witnesses." At the same time, in this as in other cases, a distinction must be made between the general principle, (in this instance, what would to most, as being unaccustomed to it, appear an extreme of spiritual interpretation,) and the particular appli- cations of it. The first is Catholic, the second may frequently be individual, although in the details also there is a Catholic system, and fragments of it may frequently be traced. The caution, however, of not confounding what is individual with what is Catholic, may be probably needed in the opposite way. The Fathers are indeed, absolutely^ no terra incognita which we have to explore, no sea, to which men are committed without a compass ; rather its bearings have been laid down, and its depths sounded, by our standard Anglo-Catholic divines; and what remains to be filled up, is in detail only. ti Acts 9, 7. 22, 9. comp. Dan. "= 1 Cor. 2, 14. 10,7. <■ Ps. 119, 18. xvi PREFACE. Still they are relatively unknown; and it is to be expected that many mistakes might be made by ardent minds, throw- ing themselves at once into the rich and pleasant fields opened to them, if uncautioned. It may then be a necessary, though obvious, caution to the young, to beware of taking up at once, what may be no portion of Catholic Truth, although it occur in some particular Father, whom one with reason venerates, as also of exaggerating the importance of what may be new to any one, or of applying it, before he be sure that he have well grasped it. Catholic truth is indeed a broad, deep, clear, full, all- uniting tide, the unity of the world, which it pervades, penetrates, encompasses, holds together ; yet may it be easily disturbed, so that its face should no longer purely reflect that Heaven, which ordinarily rests and is mirrored on its deep waters. Precipitancy in embracing or refusing truth may alike injure its solid reception; but the former will, by its incongruities, cause the truth itself to be evil spoken of. It has been, in part with a view to anticipate such an abuse of the Fathers, that the selection now proposed has been rendered so varied; no one Father is to be taken as our model, or rule ; for no one mind can embody within itself the whole of the Catholic Faith, in equal depth; one brings out one portion, one, another, as to each was given ; one exhibits it in one form, another in another; (although each in har- mony with, and subordinate to, the " proportion of Faith,") and whoso accordingly should rest himself upon any one Father, and form himself on him, would risk taking what was peculiar to that Father, the especial hue and tinge which Catholic Truth received in his mind, rather than that full Truth itself. We dare no longer say, with St. Cyprian of Tertullian, " Da Magistrum," since we are no longer prac- tically^ surrounded by that Catholic atmosphere, or imbued with that Catholic i|fio^, which should correct to us the ten- dency of such exclusive study. We may not be Augustinians, anymore than Calvinists or Lutherans; for though St. Angus- PREFACE. xYii tine made no system, but transmitted Catholic Truth, unsys- tematized, and so unnarrowed, we might readily form a system out of St. Augustine, as indeed the effects of a too exclusive study of St. Augustine manifested themselves, though in unequal degrees, in the Jansenists, and Luther and Calvin ; the Jansenists retaining most of Catholic Truth, as uniting that study with no theories of their own, yet still in a degree narrowing it. Our Church on the contrar}^, as it was originally of Greek origin, and then, from the later Augustine, had blended with it, more of the character of the Western Church, so, in its reformation and its later divines, has it united for its model. East and West, the Fathers of all Churches, and formed its teaching upon all. And they who would under- stand and carry out her teaching, and teach in her spirit, must, as did our great Divines of the seventeenth century, do the like. But besides this, which is a more external caution, there are others even more necessary, as to the habits of mind of those who enter with affection upon this study, and to the end with which it is to be pursued. The end then is not discovery of new truth, for new truth there is none in the Gospel ; not any criticism of their own Church, this were irreverent and ungrateful ; not to see wdth their own eyes, for they will come to see with their own eyes, but not by making this their object; not to compare ancient and modern systems, and adopt the one or the other, or amalgamate both, taking of each what seems to them truth ; this were to subject the truth of God, and the authority which He has placed over them, to their own private judgment; it is not criticism of any sort, no abstract result of any sort, nor even knowledge in itself, but to understand and appreciate better and realize more thoroughly the estate to which God has called them, as members of that Branch of the Church Catholic, into which they were baptized, and in which^ perhaps, they have been, or look to be, made His Ministers. They are not, or are not to be, theorists in the Faith, but they are placed in a certain c xNiii PREFACE. definite practical position, involving practical duties; their business is not to speculate how things might have been otherwise, but to live up to what they are; not to set them- selves above their own Church, but rather, if they must discover something, discover how many Catholic points there are in her, which they have not as yet known to be such, which they have not realized or filled up. This indeed is the great practical end of the study of the Fathers — not to prove any thing, not to satisfy ourselves of any thing, but to bring more vividly home to our own thoughts and consciousness the rich treasures of doctrine and devotion, which our Church has from their days brought down for us. Our Creeds and the main part and centre of our Liturgy, being an inheritance from the same ages, of which the Fathers w^ere " burning and shining lights," must needs receive vividness and life, from being used in the light of those ages, of which they are some of the most precious relics. And whoso, after having imbibed, according to his measure, the spirit of the Fathers, and therewith have indeed drunk in the Spirit, which was promised to and dwells in the Church, shall afterwards examine our Liturgy and Offices, our Homilies, Rubrics, nay our very Calendar or our ancient Ecclesiastical Institutions, will be astonished and awed to find by what memorials of primitive ages we are every where sur- rounded, and we " knew it not," and how we have, provided for our use, so soon as we have eyes to discern it, just what people are now looking for, or feeling after. Catholic Antiquity, rightly and devotionally studied, is calculated to satisfy these cravings, to provide a haven for those weary of modern questionings, to fill up Christian belief to its full height and depth, where we (amid what we give out for practical statements of it, because they are ?«/? doctrinal) have often contented us with a mere skeleton, to restore a deeper study of Scripture, a more faithful fulfilment of Scripture duty, a perception of Scripture duty and obliga- tion, where. wo now see none, and higher duties, where we PREFACE. xix see only lower, and the privilege of having higher duty, where we think chiefly of the privilege of our unrestrained state. So, by the blessing of Almighty God, may primitive practice and primitive piety flourish again and abound in our Apo- stolic Church, and she, who unites within herself, East and West, and has stretched out her arms and oflshoots into the four quarters of the world, and furnishes a sort of type of the Church Catholic, niay realize to herself the treasures which she possesses, be a faithful medium of conveying Catholic Truth wherever God has planted her, and avoid the penalty of planting '^ strange slips," which, not being " planted" by her Heavenly " Father, shall be rooted up," and " the harvest be a heap in the day of grief and sorrow incurable ^" The " Confessions" themselves have ever been a favourite Christian study. St. Augustine says of them himself, " The thirteen books of my Confessions praise God, Holy and Good, on occasion of that which has in me been good or evil, and raise up man's understanding and affections to Him: for myself, they did so while they were being written, and now do, when read. Let others think of them, as to them seems right; yet that they have and do much please many brethren, I know^." And again, " what of my smaller works could be more widely known or give greater pleasure than my Confes- sions''.''" He further states their object, Ep. ad Darium, Ep. 231. *^ Accept the books of my Confessions, which you wished for. There see me, and praise me not more than I deserve ; there believe, not others about me, but myself; there mark me, and see what I was in myself, by myself; and if aught in me please thee, there praise with me, "Whom, and not myself, I wished to be praised for me. For He ' made us, and not we ourselves;' but we had destroyed ourselves; and Who made, re-made us. But when you have then learnt what I am, pray for me, that I fall not away, but be perfected." ^ Ip. 17, 11. ii De dono Perseveiantijc, c. 20. S Retract. 1. ii. c. 6. XX PREFACE. In modern times, they have been translated again and again into ahnost every European language, and in all loved. One may quote two sayings, prefixed to a French edition, and which bear evident marks of sincerity: " O how I wish the Confessions were familiar to all who hear me, that they would read and re-read them imceasingly. For there is no book in the world more capable to take away the human heart from the vain, passing, perishable things, which the world presents, and to cure self-love. I have known it but too late, and cease not to grieve thereat." Another says, " The Con- fessions of St, Augustine are, of all his works, that which is most filled with the fire of the love of God, and most cal- culated to kindle it in the heart; the most full of unction, and most capable to impart it; and where one best sees how faithfully and carefully this holy man recorded all the bless- ings which he had received from the mercy of God." The Confessions seemed also well calculated to commence this " Library," as bringing to our acquaintance, through his own reflections on his natural character and former self, one of the most remarkable men, whom God has raised up as a teacher in His Church. And, whatever we might beforehand expect, or whatever some may have imagined to themselves of early '^ corruptions of Christianity," the Fathers of this period, have more which is akin to the turn of mind of these later ages, than those of the earlier, St. Cyprian, perhaps, alone excepted. As, on the one hand, the remains of this period are larger, so also has the character of subsequent ages been far more influenced and more directly formed by them. Augustine, Chrysostom, Ambrose, Basil, Athanasius, Jerome, have left a much deeper impress, and moulded suc- ceeding periods in their own character, far more than the Apostolic Fathers, Clement of Alexandria, Origen, or Ter- tullian. These acted upon, and the peculiarities of some were modified in, those who are to us intervening links, as Tertul- lian in St. Cyprian, Origen in St. Ambrose. And the later Fathers have in these cases preserved more especially what PREFACP:. xxi is Catholic in their predecessors, free from that which belonged to their individual character. The influence of St. Augustine, especially, is very visible in Prosper of Aqui- taine, Gregory the Great, and in conjunction with the latter and Jerome in the Schoolmen, and so has, through the Reformers, descended to us and our Church. It is plain, for instance, that our Articles, in some cases, express Catholic truth through the medium of the language of St. Augustine. And it is remarkable, that a favourite work of modern times has borne the title of " Meditations of St. Augustine," and people have mistaken a compilation of an Abbot of Fescam in France at the end of the twelfth century, for that of a great Father of the African Church in the fourth. So long has his light shone, and so many, in after ages, has it kindled. But this being the case, it seemed most natm'al to begin with those, by whom ourselves had been — if, in these last days, imperceptibly, yet — most directly formed, and through them to ascend to the former ages and the writers, who had guided them in the understanding of the common source of all knowledge, the Holy Scriptures. The subject of the Confessions would naturally give them a deep interest, presenting, as they do, an account of the way in which God led, perhaps the most powerful mind of Christian antiquity, out of darkness to light, and changed one, who was a chosen vessel unto Himself, from a heretic and a seducer of the brethren, into one of the most energetic defenders of Catholic Truth, both against the strange sect to which he had belonged, and against the Arians, Pelagians, and Semi- pelagians, Donatists, Priscillianists. Such, not an autobio- graphy, is the object of the Confessions; a praise and confes- sion of God's unmerited goodness, but of himself only so much, as might illustrate out of what depth God's mercy had raised him. His proposed subject apparently was God's protection and guidance through all his infirmities and errors, to Baptism, wherein all his transgressions were blotted out ; that so others who were in the same state in which he had xxii PREFACE. been, might " not sleep in despair, and say, ' T cannot' ;' " and, accordingly, his Confessions would close, according to his own view, at the end of the ninth book; the only events, which he relates, subsequent to his conversion and baptism, being those connected with his mother's death, to whose prayers he had been given. It is evidently not without reluctance, that in the tenth book, in compliance with the importunity of some of the brethren, he enters at all into the subject, " what he then w^as" at the interval of ten years ; nor does he enter upon it, without much previous questioning, and lingers ujDon an enquiry into the nature of memory, which is only in part connected w^ith his immediate question, " By what faculty he came to know God," and not at all with the subject proposed to him. He seems to have glided into it, on occasion of his praise of God, and then to have dwelt upon it, partly through that habit of exactness of mind, which leads him to examine every question thoroughly, partly, it should seem, as keeping him from a subject upon which he had no inclination to enter. When moreover he does come to it, he confines himself to such temptations as are common to all, and so would lead to remarks which would be useful to all, specially such as would increase vigilance, and omits altogether such as are peculiar to himself. Thus, of the trials, which beset his Episcopal office, love of praise is the only one which he mentions, and that, incidentally only as connected with that office. Meanwhile, his standard is mani- festly (as appears, indeed, throughout) a very high one ; in that he felt vividly that account was to be given of all to God, and neither eyes nor ears, the purest of the senses, were to be allowed so to be distracted by temporal objects as to turn the mind from its habitual contemplation of eternal. His observations on " cmiosity," here and elsewhere, would pro- bably open to most in modern times, a class of duties and dangers, of which they had little notion. Yet deeply as he had been acquainted with sin, previous to his conversion and i Conf. b. X. §. 4. PREFACE. xxiii baptism, aiid now with the experience of ten years of purity and duty, he felt it Christianly inexpedient to enter into details. The same reserve is still more observable at the beginning of the eleventh book. The question there had apparently occurred to him, whether he should mention by what means he was brought into Holy Orders : but after just alluding " to the exhortations, terrors, comforts, guidances of God" herein, he peremptorily cuts off the question, alleging that his time was " too precious to him ;" and, as is known, occupies the three remaining books of the Confessions, with the exposition of the history of the Creation, (in part with reference to Manichaean cavils,) and enquiries connected therewith. His remaining writings contain very little to supply this, and that little chiefly in an extorted vindication of himself and his clergy''. The same delicacy which dictated this selection of subjects, is observable also in the previous books of the Confessions ; here, indeed, the case was different ; for this was the history of a former self, a self which had been washed away by the waters of Baptism, which was not the same self, and with which he had no more to do, except to praise God, that it was no longer he '. In speaking of this self, which he was not, there were not the same grounds for reserve, as in the other ; yet here also, in one remarkable instance, which may serve as a specimen, he alludes to a heinous act, aggravated by having been committed in the house of God, and on which God entailed punishment, but he does not even give a hint of what nature that act was "\ Although his subject is God's mercies to himself, himself is the subject w4iich he least likes to dwell upon ; and, most probably, upon analyzing the Con- fessions, would be surprised to find the comparative paucity of details, which they contain. For his principle being not to convey notices of hiinself, but to praise God on occasion of what had happened to him or in him, he does not accumulate k See p. 225, 6. note a. ^ B. iii. c 3. p. 31. ' See p. 223, note at the end of book x. xjLir PREFACE. instances of his own wickedness, but rather singles out pai'ti- ciilar acts as instances or specimens of a class, and as furnish- ing occasion to enquire into the nature of, or temptations to, such acts. The " Confessions" then rather contain a general sketch of his unconverted life, illustrated by some particular instances, than a regular biography. The details, on the other hand, which he gives as to his friend Alypius", remark- ably illustrate this absence of egotism, as does the brief sentence in which he relates his conversion, " Alypius, who always differed much from me for the better, without much turbulent delay, joined me"." This perhaps is it (next to the vivid account of his con- version, or the beautiful history of the last days of his mother) which has given such an abiding interest to the Confessions. With extreme naturalness, (as one to whom absence of self had become nature,) he passes at once from the immediate subject or fact to the principles with which it is connected, thus giving instruction as to man, or rising to the reverent, though eloquent, or rather to the eloquent, because reverent, praise of God. Thus his youthful sin in robbing the pear tree gives the occasion of enquiring into the nature of sins, committed without apparent temptation''; the loss of his friend, into the nature and real cure of grief 'i; his dedication of an early work to one known by reputation only, into the interest we bear to persons so known'; the effect produced by the jollity of a drunken beggar, into the nature of joy' and the like ; yet on all occasions ending not in these inqui- ries, but naturally rising up to God, who alone can explain what is mysterious, satisfy our longings, restore vi^hat is defective, fill up what is void, or rather viemng every thing habitually in God's sight and in His light, and so, from time to time leading the reader more sensibly into His Presence, in which himself unceasingly lived and thought. " B. vi. c. 7—10. q B. iv. ** B. viii. ult. r B, iv. P B. ii. s B. vi. PREFACE. XXV The same reference to principles gives interest to his allusions to the Manichoeans, whom, as being at that time formidable to the unstable, though now a forgotten heresy, he never notices without furnishing opposite and corrective principles. The value of these remains, as lying at the root of the difficulty or temptation, which then gained proselytes to Manicheism ; the inward bane and antidote being the same in different ages, though Satan disguises his temptations dif- ferently according to the varying characters of ages, people, and climate. The principles upon which St. Augustine meets the Manichaean cavils against the Old Testament, may be of use in this day to a class, which appears in a form out- wai'dly very different ; as may the observations, (founded in part upon his own experience,) on the effect of any one in- dulged error to prevent the reception of other truth. The last books are of a different character, being employed upon a subject wholly different, though with the same tacit reference to Manichsean errors and cavils ; this being a part of the practical character of St. Augustine's mind, continually to bear in mind the heresies by which his hearers were liable to be entangled, and, not in a formal way, but in a word or the tm'n of an expression, to convey the corrective. By those who have been chiefly interested in the former part as biography, these have been generally passed over; and to persons un- accustomed to abstract thought, the discussions on the nature of time will be little attractive, nor may it altogether be desirable for one, averse to typical interpretation, and who has read Holy Scripture hitherto with modern eyes only, at once to plunge into an exposition, which necessarily exhibits the system of the ancient Church in so condensed and strong a light. Yet to others, both may be of great use ; the abstract discussions, in that they shew how St. Augustine's acute and philosophic mind saw things to be difficulties, which people now-a-days think they understand, because they know certain rules, to which they have been subjected ; that, because they can refer them to a certain class of objects, therefore they xxvi PREFACE. understand the things themselves, and their common prin- ciple, (as, because people can refer the tides or the solar system, &c. to a principle of gravitation, that therefore they understand what is the principle of gravitation, or why bodies should possess this principle of attraction,) or because the things themselves are plain and common things, and open to observation, that therefore the hidden sources are plain and open ; or because they are regular and men know the rules, that therefore they know upon what the rule is founded. In this age then of experimental and physical science, these dis- cussions may be eminently useful, because by accumulating facts we are hiding from ourselves our ignorance of prin- ciples, and employing our knowledge as food for vanity, instead of a ground of humility ; all knowledge having two sides, and each accession of knowledge discovering to us not only something new, which we may know, but something also which we cannot know, just as our chemical analysis as far as it has yet been carried, has at one and the same time shewn that the elements are not elements, and that there are many more elements than before ; i. e. the further we cany our researches, and the more we explain, the more are things multiplied upon us which we cannot resolve or explain. Our age, however, has contrived to fix its attention on the one side, the things discovered, and so, practically to persuade itself that it is making progress towards discovering all which is discoverable, whereas these are infinite, and so discoveries, which may be numbered, can bear no ratio to them, and on the other hand, we are multiplying to ourselves the things undiscoverable. To this habit of mind, it may be beneficial to see how St. Augustine toiled in discovering what to many, and to himself in a popular way, would seem so plain, as " what is time ;" nor less interesting are his results, that it has no existence of which we can take account, except in the human mind, and that it has no relation whatever to eternity ; eternity being no extension of time, and time being but a creature of God, an incident only in eternity, which once was not, as it PREFACE. xxvii shall once cease to be. Not that any thing would be by this explained, but that it would appear that questions, which the human mind is fond of raising, uj)on the supposition that eternity is but lengthened time, are inexplicable, that it has not the data, upon which even to form them. But these results are not the only reward of the study ; for in the midst of investigations, abstract and to many dry, will occur those golden sayings, which may at once shew how his mind, amid every thing, burst upward towards his God, and may teach how things abstract may be studied devotionally. So also, amid the interpretations of Holy Scripture, even those, to whom the analogy between the spiritual and moral creation is less apparent than it was to the Fathers of the Church, may still find what will be instructive to them, (as the distinction between " fruit" and a " gift',") as may the interpretations themselves be, if, without attempting to force themselves to receive what at first goes against them, they do not yet, on its account, reject what even to them may seem probable or natural, but are content to remain in suspense and undecided, until they become more acquainted with them, and have seen them presented fi'om different points of view, and associated and harmonizing with others. For these interpretations are but fragments of a gigantic system, with which we have been too little acquainted, and of whose symmetry and mutual harmony we can form no notion from a first view of a detached portion. A pious mind cannot be wanting in real delicacy, and, on this ground also, as well as from the indications of refinement of mind, above pointed out, it will readily be anticipated, that so devotional a mind as St. Augustine's, would not be wanting in delicacy in alluding to the worst sins of his unregeneratc state. And so it in fact is ; he specifies only two periods of sin, sin, which, alas! under a softened name, is familiarly spoken of, by those who would be esteemed refined and " deli- cate women." St. Augustine, on the contrary, uses strong t B. xiii. §. 39—42. xxviii PREFACE. terms; he speaks of his sin in language which will be plain to those, who, in Heathen antiquity, have been accustomed to the like, but which is there made subservient to sin and vanity. But to those, who, themselves pure, have skimmed lightly over these subjects in Heathen antiquity or Chiistian heathenism, these passages will convey no notion, except that he was guilty of sin, which to himself afterwards was disgusting and revolting. These two periods of sin alluded to he is compelled to speak of, not merely as sources of sorrow and degradation, but as the chief impediments to his conversion, the latter, also, as a proof of his own exceeding weakness and slavery to sin, in that, though separated fi-om his former mistress, and with the prospect of mamage after two years, he still relapsed into his former habits, and took to him a new concubine. There is then no gratuitous mention of sin ; nor will any one here learn any thing of sin; and while modern descriptions of penitence, veiled in language, are calculated to produce an unhealthy excitement, and may rather prepare people to imitate the sin, with the hope that they may after^vards imitate the repentance, St. Augustine in unveiled language, creates the loathing which himself felt at the sin. Moderns have an outward purity of language; the ancient Church, with the Bible, a fearless plainness of speech which belongs to inward purity. This has been here and there modified in the translation, in consequence of our present condition ; yet it must be, with the protest, that the purity of modem times is not the purity of the Gospel; it is the purity of those who know and have delighted in evil as well as good ; it is often the hypocritical purity, which would willingly dwell upon '' things which ought not to be named," so that it does but not name them : it is a veiled impm'ity ; and, what is in itself pure and speaks purely of things impure, it associates with its own impui'ity and calls impure, because itself thinks impurely. And so the very Bible has become to them, what they call ^' improper," i. e. " unbefitting them," verifying herein the awful Apostolic saying, " unto the pure till things are PREFACE. xxix pure; but unto them that are defiled and unbelieving is nothing pure; but even their mind and conscience is defiled"." Thus much must be said, because it is easy to fi)resee that an age of spurious delicacy, i. e. of real indelicacy, will raise charges of indelicacy against passages in the Fathers, (as it does, though in a lower murmuring tone, against the Bible,) when the faxUt is in itself And would that there were not occasion for the warnings of St. Augustine, and that many in Christian England did not imitate the unbaptized Cartha- ginians, or require his earnest language against being ashamed of being innocent". For it must never be lost sight of, in reference to this whole story of St. Augustine, that he himself was, during the whole period, not a Christian, for he was not baptized ; his mother had been given in marriage to one, who was alto- gether a heathen, until long after Augustine's birth, (for in his sixteenth year his father was but recently a Catechumen, b. ii. §. 6.) and, as a heathen, lived in heathenish sin; and himself, although in infancy made a Catechumen, had fallen into a sect, which could in no way be called Christian. Christianity, as now in India, was then every where sur- rounded by Heathenism, which it was gradually leavening, and there was consequently a mixed race, born of inter- marriages with the heathen, or of parents who had not made up their minds to become wholly Christians, (like the " mixed multitude," which went up with Israel out of Egypt^,) and who were in a sort of twilight state, seeing Christianity but very imperfectly, although the grossness of their own darkness was much ■ mitigated. This should be borne in mind, lest any should think that St. Augustine's descriptions of himself and his comrades furnish any representation of the then state of the Christian Church, and that consequently it even then partook of the state of degradation, in which it is at this day. It also accounts for St. Augustine's mode of speaking of his " Tit. 1, 15. y Ex. 12, 38. Num. 11,4. ^ See p. 22. XXX PREFACE. past sins in terms of strong condemnation, yet, personally, of unconcern; as shocking and loathsome in themselves, but as what he had no more to do with, in that he had condemned them, and they had been washed away by Baptism ^ It now remains only to add a few words upon this and former translations of the Confessions. Into our own language they have been three times translated in whole or in part. The first by a Romanist, T. M. (Sir Tobias Matthews,) 1624. The object of this was apparently, to make the Confessions subserve the cause of Romanism. It was also very inaccurately done", and many of the errors were pointed out in the second translation by Rev. W. Watts, D.D. 1650. This, however, also still re- tained a good many faults ; and, with some energy, it had a good many vulgarisms, so that though it was adopted as the basis of the present, the work has in fact been retranslated. The third was a translation of the biographical portions only, with a continuation from Possidius and notices in St. Augus- tine's own writings by Abr. Woodhead of University College, " a most pious, learned, and retired person \" The former trans- lation was used as its basis, but it is more diffuse. Copious extracts of the Confessions have also been given in Milner's Church History. The former translations, however, were become scarce ; and the work seemed no inappropriate com- mencement of the translations from St. Augustine, in that it gives the main outlines of the first thirty-four years of his life, until a little after his conversion and baptism. It has been the object of the present translation to leave the Confessions to tell their own tale ; a few of the notes of the former edition have been retained, which seemed to con- vey useful information ; most have been omitted, as being employed in censuring the translation or notes of his pre- decessor, and that often in undesirable language. The ^ Comp. his frequent reference to his its badness, is given in the Biogr. Brit., Baptism, B. i. c. 1 1. B. ii. c. 7, B. v. with some acconntof the author. $. 15, 16. B. vi. c. 13. b See Ath. Ox. t. ii. p. 'ISO. * A saying of the time, indicative of PREFACE. xxxi present translation has been illustrated with notes, beyond what was contemplated for this undertaking generally, partly on account of the miscellaneous character of the work, in that it contained allusions to many things, which had been spoken of more expressly elsewhere ; partly as being the first work of this remarkable man, made accessible to ordinary readers ; partly also because this plan of illustrating St. Augustine out of himself, had been already adopted by M. Dubois in his Latin edition, though not in his translation, of the Confessions (Paris 1776) ; and it seemed a pity not to use valuable materials ready collected to one's hand. The far greater part of these illustrations are taken from that edition. Reference has, of course, been every where made to the context in the original work. With regard to the principles of translation, the object of all translation must be to present the ideas of the author as clearly as may be, with as little sacrifice as may be of what is peculiar to him; the greatest clearness with the greatest faith- fulness. The combination or due adjustment of these two is a work of no slight difficulty, since in that re-production, which is essential to good translation, it is very difficult to avoid introducing some slight shade of meaning, which may not be contained in the original. The very variation in the collo- cation of words may produce this. In the present work the translator desired both to preserve as much as possible the condensed style of vSt. Augustine, and to make the translation as little as might be of a commentary; that so the reader might be put, as far as possible, in the position of a student of the Fathers, unmodified and undiluted by the intervention of any foreign notions. The circumstances of the times, moreover, render even a somewhat rigid adherence to the original, (even though purchased by some stiffness,) the safer side, as it is that which most recommended itself to the translator. This common object of a strict faithfulness, must, of course, in a variety of hands, be attained in diff'erent degrees ; and different ways taken to obtain the same result. xxxii PREFACE. If, in parts of the present work, a more rigid style has been adopted, than will perhaps generally occur in this " Library," it was still hoped, that the additional pains, which might be requisite to understand it, would be rewarded by the greater insight into the author's uncommented meaning which that very pains would procure, and by the greater impression made by what has required some thought to understand; and it was an object to let St. Augustine speak as much as possible for himself, without bringing out by the translation, truths which he wrapped up in the words, for those who wish to find them. With the same view, the plan adopted by the Benedictine editors and others, of marking out for observation the golden sayings, with which the Confessions abound, has not been followed; it was thought that they would be read better in the context ; that they would be even more impressive, if attention were not called to them, but rather left to be called out hy them, by being read, as St. Au- gustine himself thought them, and as they arose; for florilegia do not make the impression, which is expected from them ; the mind is put in an unnatural position by being called upon to admire, fi*om w^ithout, rather than from within. But, chiefly, holy and solemn thoughts are not to be exhibited for admiration, like a gallery of pictures, which the eyes wander over, but whereby the heart is distracted and unsatisfied ; rather they are to be gazed at, and to be copied ; and they shine most brightly, when most naturally, amid the relief of thoughts on ordinary subjects, which they illumine. So also may we be taught how to sanctify things common, by first sanctifying the vessel, wherein they are received, our own hearts ; which, as it has been for fourteen centuries the fi-uit of this work of St. Augustine in our Western Church, so may it, by His mercy, again in this our portion of it. E. B. P. Oxford, Feast of St. Bartholomeic. 1838. CONTENTS THE FIRST BOOK. Confessions of the greatness and unsearchableness of God, of God's mercies in infancy and boyhood, and human wilfulness ; of his own sins of idleness, abuse of his studies, and of God's gifts up to his fifteenth year. page 1 THE SECOND BOOK. Object of these Confessions. Further ills of idleness developed in his sixteenth year. Evils of ill society, which betrayed him into theft. 19 THE THIRD BOOK. His residence at Carthage from his seventeenth to his nineteenth year. Source of his disorders. Love of shows. Advance in studies, and love of wisdom. Distaste for Scripture. Led astray to the Mani- chaeans. Refutation of some 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. 29 THE FOURTH BOOK. Aug.'s life from nineteen to eight and twenty ; himself a Manichaean, and seducing 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 baptized when in a swoon ; reflections on grief, on real and unreal friendship, and love of fame ; writes on " the fair and fit," yet cannot rightly, though God had given him great talents, since he entertained wrong notions of God ; and so even his knowledge he applied ill. 46 d XXXIV CONTENTS. THE FIFTH BOOK. S. Aug.'s twenty-ninth year. Faustus, a snare of Satan to many, made an instrument of deliverance to S. Aug., by shewing the ignorance of the Manichees on those things, wherein they professed to have divine knowledge. Aug. gives up all thought of going further among the Manichees : is guided to Rome and Milan, where he hears S. Ambrose, leaves the Manichees, and becomes again a Catechumen in the Church Catholic. 65 THE SIXTH BOOK. Arrival of Monnica at Milan ; her obedience to S. Ambrose, and his value for her; S. Ambrose's habits; Aug.'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 ; Aug. debates with himself and his friends about their mode of life ; his inveterate sins, and dread of judgment. 85 THE SEVENTH BOOK. Aug.'s thirty-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 Mani- chsean heresy, but cannot altogether embrace the doctrine of the Church; recovered from the belief in Astrology, but miserably per- plexed about the origin of evil ; is led to find in the Platonists the seeds of the doctrine of the Divinity of the Woeiu, but not of His humiliation ; 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 S. Paul. 107 THE EIGHTH BOOK. Aug.'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 S. 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. 133 CONTENTS. XXXV THE NINTH BOOK. Aug. determines to devote his life to God, and to abandon his profession \ of Rhetoric, quietly however; retires to the country to prepare himself to receive the grace of Baptism, and is baptized with Alypius, and his son Adeodatus. At Ostia, in his way to Africa, his mother Monnica dies, in her fifty-sixth year, the thirty-third of Augustine. Her life and character. 155 THE TENTH BOOK. Having in the former books spoken of himself before his receiving the grace of Baptism, in this Aug. confesses what he then was. But first, he enquires by what faculty we can know God at allj 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 pride ;" what Christian continency pre- scribes as to each. On Christ the Only Mediator, who heals and will heal all infirmities. 182 THE ELEVENTH BOOK. Aug. 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 first words Li the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. Answer to cavillers who asked, ** what did God before He created the heaven and the earth, and whence willed He at length to make them, whereas He did not make them before?" Inquiry into the nature of Time. 225 THE TWELFTH BOOK. Aug. proceeds to comment on Gen. 1, I. 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 he adduces, but rather confesses that such is the depth of Holy Scripture, that manifold senses may and ought to be extracted from it, and that whatever truth can be obtained from its words, does, in fact, lie con- cealed in them. 249 XXXvi CONTENTS. 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 support of the Church, 276 CONFESSION^ OF S. AUGUSTINE, BISHOP OF HIPPO. IN THFRTEEN BOOKS. BOOK I. Confessions of the greatness and unsearchableness of God, of God's mercies in infancy and boyhood, and human wilfulness ; of his own sins of idle- ness, abuse of his studies, and of God's gifts up to his fifteenth year. [I.] 1. Great art Thou, O Lord, and greatly to he praised ; ps 145, great is Thy power, and Thy wisdom infinite. And Thee?-^"*^' would man praise ; man, but a particle of Thy creation ; man, that bears about him his mortality, the witness of his sin, the witness, that Tliou resistest the proud: yet would Jas. 4.6, man praise Thee ; he, but a particle of Thy creation. Thou ^ 5^** awakest us to delight in Thy praise ; for Thou madest us for Thyself, and our heart is restless, until it repose in Thee. Grant 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 know^eth 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 ? But how shall they call on Him in Rom. 10, whom they have not believed? or how shall they helieve^^' without a preacher ? And they that seek the Lord shall Ps. 22, praise Him. For they that seek shall Jin d Him, and they^^* that find shall praise Him. I will seek Thee, Lord, by calling 7. on Thee ; and will call on Thee, believing in Thee ; for to us hast Thou been preached. My faith, liord, sliall call on Thee, which Thou hast given me, wherewith Thou hast B 2 Difficulties in conceiving of God. CONF. inspired me, through the Incarnation of Thy Son, through — '—^ the ministry of the Preacher ^. [II.] 2. And how shall I call upon my God, my God and Lord, since, when I call for Him, I shall be calling Him to myself? and what room is there within me, whither my God can come into me ? Whither can God come into me, God who made heaven and earth ? 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 shouldest enter into me, who were not. Avert Thou not in me ? Why? Because I am not gone down in hell, and yet Thou Ps. 139, art there also. For if I go down into hell, Tliou art there. I could not be then, O my God, could not be at all, wert Rom. Thou not in me ; or, rather, unless I were in Thee, of whom 1 1 Sfi 7 7 7 7 ^ ' ' are all things, hy whom are all things, hi 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 my God Jer. 23, should come into me, who hath said, I Jill the heaven and the earth f [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 Acts 2, poured out. And when Thou art jjoured out on us. Thou art not cast down, but Thou upliftest us; Thou ail not dissipated, but Thou gatherest us. But Thou who fillest all things, fillest Thou them with Thy whole self ? or, since all thmgs 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 of ^ S. Ambrose ; from whom were the whom he was baptized, beginnings of his conversion, and by b Against the Manichees. God's atirihutes to men contradictory. 3 Thee greater, another less ? or, art Thou wholly every where, while nothing contains Thee wholly ? [IV.] 4. What art Thou then, my God ? What, but the Lord God ? For who is Lord hut the Lord ? or who is Godv^. is, 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 npon the proud, and they know it not ; ever working, ever at rest ; still gathering, yet nothing lacking ; supporting, filling, and over- spreading ; creating, nourishing, and maturing ; seeking, yet having all things. Thou lovest, without passion ; art jealous, without anxiety ; repentest, yet grievest not ; art angry, yet serene ; changest Thy works. Thy purpose unchanged ; re- ceivest again what Thou findest, yet didst never lose ; never in need, yet rejoicing in gains ; never covetous, yet exacting Matt. usury. Thou receivest over and above, that Thou mayest ^^' '^^^; owe ; and who hath aught that is not Thine ? Thou payest rogatur debts, owing nothing ; remittest debts, losing nothing. And what have I now said, my God, my life, my holy joy.? 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 ? In Thy pity, teach me to utter it. Or what am I to Thee that Thou demandest my love, and, if I give it not, art A\Toth with me, and threatenest me with grievous woes ? 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 salvation. So speak, thatPs.35,3. I may hear. Behold, Lord, my heart is before Thee ; open Thou the ears thereof, and say unto my soul, I am thy salva- tion. After this voice let me haste, and take hold on Thee. Hide not Thy face from me. Let me die'' — lest 1 die — only let me see Thy face. 6. Narrow is the mansion of my soul ; enlarge Thou it, ^ i. e. Let me see the face of God, it not, but it be turned away, I must tbough I die, (Ex. 33, 20.) since if T see needs die, and that " the second death." B 2 4 (toiVs mercies in uifancij. CONF. that Thou mayest enter in. It is ruinous ; repair Tliou it. — '—^ It has that within which must offend Thine eyes ; I confess and know it. But who shall cleanse it ? or to whom should I Ps. 19, cry, save Thee ? Lord, cleanse me from my secret faults, and 12 13 ' . .^ . Psi iie,'^/'^'''^ "^Ml "^errant from the power of the enemy '^. I believe, 10- and therefore do I speak. Lord, Thou knowest. Have I ^* '' 'not confessed against myself my transgressiotis unto Titee, and Thou, my God, hast forgiven the iniquity of my heart ? I 3oh9, 3. contend not in judgment with Thee, who art the truth ; I fear ^9'v^' ^^ deceive myself; lest mine iniquity lie unto itself There- Pg i3Q*fore I contend not in judgment with Thee; for if TIiou, 3. Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall abide it ? [VI.] 7. Yet suffer me to speak unto Thy mercy, me, dust and GenAS, ashes. Yet suffer me to speak, since I speak to Thy mercy, and not to scornful man. Thou too, perhaps, desjiisest me, Jer. 12, yet wilt Thou return and have compassion upon me. For what would I say, O Lord my God, but that I know not whence I came into this d}dng 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. Thus there received me the comforts of woman's milk. For neither my mother nor my nurses stored their own breasts for me ; but Thou didst bestow the food of my 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, with an heaven-taught affection, willingly 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 since learned. Thou, through these Thy gifts, mthin me and without, proclaiming Thyself unto me. For then I knew «1 So the Greek Versions and Vulg. one from one's self, the other from the rendering CD*iy as C^^'^Jf. as it else- persuasion of others; to which the prophet where signifies " the proud," not " proud refeis, I suppose, when he says, ' Cleanse presumptuous sins." They interpret it "^e from my secret faults,' and ab alienis of sins forced on a person by the ' spine Thy servant.' " S, Aug. de Lib. enemy. " There arc iwo sources of sins ; ^'^'■''- '■ "'• <"• ^O- Wilfulness nj' hijanci/. 5 but to suck ; to repose in \\ hat pleased, and cry at what offended my flesh ; nothing more. 8. Afterwards I began to smile ; first in sleep, then M^aking : lor 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 became conscious where I was ; and to have a wish to express my wishes to those who could content them, and 1 could not; for the wishes were within me, and they ^^^thout ; nor could they by any sense of theirs enter within my spirit. So I flung about at random limits and voice, making the few signs I could, and such as I could, like, though in truth very little like, what I \vished. And when I was not presently obeyed, (my wishes being hurtful or unintelligible,) then I was indignant with my elders for not submitting to me, with those o\ving me no senice, for not sening me ; and avenged myself on them by tears. Such have I learnt infants to be fi'om observing them ; and, that I was myself such, they, all unconscious, have shewn me better than my nm'ses who knew it. 9. And, lo ! my infancy died long since, and 1 live. J>ut / 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 ai't 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 change- able, the springs abide in Thee unchangeable : and in Thee live the eternal reasons of all things unreasoning and tem- poral. 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 myself 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 mock me for asking this, and bid me praise Thee and acknow- ledge Thee, for that I do know } 10. I acknowledge Thee, JiOrd of heaven and earth, and ])vaise Thee for my first rudiments of being, and my infancy, whereof I remember nothing ; for Thou liast a])])ointed that 6 Sinfulness in in/ants without actual sin. CO INF. man should from others ffuess much as to himself; and — L-l_ believe much on the strength of weak females. Even then I had being and life, and (at my infancy's close) T could seek for signs, whereby to make known to others my sensations. AVhence could such a being be, save from Thee, Lord ? Shall ^j^^ any be his own artificer ? Or can there elsewhere be derived • ^ any vein, which may stream essence and life into us, save irom Thee, O Lord, in whom essence and life are one ? for aial. 3, Thou Thyself art supremely Essence and Life. For Thou art ^' 7?iost high, 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 such things also are in Thee. For they had no way to pass away, unless Thou upheldest them. And since Ps. 102, TJiy years fail not, Thy years are one To-day. How many of om's and ovir fathers' years have flowed away through Thy ' to-day,' and from it received the measure and the mould of such being as they had ; and still others shall flow away, Ibid, and so receive the mould of their degree 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 hast done to-day. What is it to me, though any comprehend not this .'' Let him Ex. 16, also rejoice and say, What thing is this ? Let him rejoice ^* even thus ; and be content rather by not discovermg to dis- cover Thee, than by discovering not to discover Thee. [VII.] 1 1. 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 Job 25, infancy ? for in Thy sight none is pure from sin, not even the infant whose life is hut 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 suitable to my age, justly should I be laughed at and reproved. What I then did was worthy reproof; but since I could not imderstand reproof, custom and reason forbade me to be reproved. For those habits, when grown, we root out and cast away. Now no man, though he John is.pnmes, 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 Infant malice and God's goodness. 7 elders, yea, the very authors of its birth, serv ed it not ? that many besides, wiser than it, obeyed not the nod of its good pleasui'e ? to do its best to strike and hurt, because commands 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 envious ; it could not speak, yet it turned pale and looked bitterly on its foster- brother. ^Vho 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 it, 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 tempers 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, ornamenting its propor- tions, and, for its general good and safety, implanting in it all vital functions, Thou commandest me to praise Thee in these things, to confess unto Thee., and sing nnto Thy name, Fs.92,\. Thou most Highest. For Thou art God, Almighty 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 o\vn fairness makest all things fair ; and orderest all things by Thy law. This age then. Lord, whereof I have no remembrance, which I take on others' word, and guess fi'om other infants that I have passed, true though the guess be, I 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 sltapen in iniquity, and in sin did Ps.5l,7.( my mother conceive me, where, I beseech Thee, O my God, where, Lord, or when, was I Thy servant guiltless ? But, lo ! that period I pass by ; and what have I now to do with that, of which I can recal no vestige ? [ VIIL] 13. Passing hence from infancy, 1 came to boyhood, or rather it came to me, displacing infancy. Nor did that depart, • — (for whither went it ?) — and yet it was no more. For I was nr> 8 Learning to speak — boyish prayer. CONF. longer a speechless infant, but a speaking boy. This I re- ^- ^- member ; 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 so I might have my will, and yet unable to express all I willed, or to whom I willed, did myself, by the understanding 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 fiom the motion of their body, ihe natural language, as it were, of all nations, expressed by the countenance, glances of the eye, gestures of the limbs, and tones of the voice, indi- cating the affections of the mind, as it pursues, possesses^ rejects, or shuns. And thus by constantly hearing words, as they occmTed in various sentences, I collected gradually for what they stood; and having broken in my mouth to these signs, I thereby gave utterance to my will. Thus 1 exchanged with those about me these current signs of our wills, and so lamiched deeper into the stormy intercoTu^e of human life, yet depending on parental authority and the beck of elders. [IX.] 14. O God my God, what miseries and mockeries did I now experience, when obedience to my teachers was pro- posed 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 deceitful 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 om* forefathers ; and many, passing the same course before us, framed for us weaiy paths, through which we were fain to pass ; multiply- ing toil and grief upon the sons of Adam. But, 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 One, who, though hidden from our senses, couldst hear and help us. For so I began, as a boy, to pray to Thee, my aid and refuge ; and broke the fetters of my tongue to call on Thee, praying Thee, though small, yet with no small earnest- Childish griefs great to children. Inconsistency to them. 9 ness, that I might not be beaten at school. And when Thou heardest me not, {not thereby giving me over to folly '\) my Ps. 2 1,3. elders, yea, my very parents, who yet wished me no ill, ^'"'&* mocked my stripes, my then great and grievous ill. 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 de- voutly to Thee, is endued with so great a spirit, that he can think as lightly of the racks and hooks and other tonnents, (against which, throughout all lands, men call on Thee with extreme di'ead,) mocking at those by whom they are feared most bitterly, as our parents mocked the torments which we suffered in boyhood from oiu* masters } For we feared not our torments less ; nor prayed we less to Thee to escape them. And yet we sinned, in writing or reading or stud}dng less than was exacted of us. For we wanted not, O Lord, memory or capacity, whereof Thy will gave enough for our age ; but oui* 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, being really ' the same, is pimished by those elders ; and none commise- rates 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 unbeseemingly } And what else did he, who beat me : who, if worsted in some trifling discussion with his fellow-tutor, was more embittered and jealous than I, when beaten at ball by a play -fellow? [X.] lt>. And yet, I sinned herein, O Lord God, the Creator and Disposer of all things in natm'e, of sin the Disposer only, O Ordina- Lord my God, I sinned in transgressing the commands of my ^^^' parents and those my masters. For what they, with whatever motive, would have me leani, I might afterwai'd have put to good use. For 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 <* " Many cry in trouble and are not, give llieni) to foolishness." S. Aug. heard; but to their salvation, not (to ad loc. 10 Baptism wrongly deferred ; on what grounds. CONF. those who give these shows are in such esteem, that almost all ^' ^' wish the same for their children, and yet are very wilhng 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 deUver 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 oiu* God stooping to oiu* 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 op- pression of the stomach, and like near to death — Thou sawest, my God, (for Thou wert my keeper,) mth what eager- ness 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 my God and Lord. Whereupon the mother of my flesh, being much troubled, (since, with a heart pure in Gal. 4, Thy faith, she even more lovingly travailed in hirth of my sal- vation,) 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 defile- ments of sin would, after that washing, bring greater and more perilous guilt. I then akeady believed ; and my mother, and the whole household, except my father : yet did not he pre- vail 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, shouldest be my father ; and in this Thou didst aid her to prevail over her husband, whom she, the better, obeyed, therein also obey- ing 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 defeiTed ? * A rite in the Western Churches, on Christians. See S. Aug. de Catechiz. admission as a Catechumen, previous to rudib. c. '26. Concil. Carth. 3. can. 5 ; Baptism, denoting the purity and un- and Liturgies in Assem. Cod. Liturg. corruptedness and discretion required of t. i. Aug. compelled to learn; GocTs wisdom herein. 11 Was it for my good that the rein was laid loose, as it were, upon me, for me to sin ? or was it not laid loose ? If not, why does it still echo in oiu: ears on all sides, ^' Let 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 tnily. But how many and great waves of temptation seemed to hang over me after my boyhood ! These my mother foresaw ; and prefeiTed to expose to them the clay whence I might afterwards be moulded, than the veiy cast, when made f. [XIL] 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 w^as 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 leam, except to satiate the insatiate desires of a wealthy beggary, and a shameful glory. But Thou, hy whom the very hairs o/Matt. our head are numbered, didst use for my good the eiTor of all ^^' ^^' who urged me to leam ; and my own, who would not leam. Thou didst use for my punishment — a fit penalty for one, so small a boy and so gi'eat 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 commanded, 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 stuched as a boy ? I do not yet fiilly 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 / was flesh, and Ps. 78, a breath that passeth away and cometh not again ? For ^ His unregenerate nature, on which the image of God was not yet impressed, rather than the regenerate. 1*2 Poetry a vanity to the un regenerate. CONF. those first lessons were better certainly, because more certain; -^lll- by them I obtained, and still retain, the power of reading what I find written, and myself writing what I w ill ; whereas in the others, I was forced to learn the wanderings of one ^Eneas, forgetful of my own, and to weep for dead Dido, because she killed herself for lo^ e ; the while, wdth dry eyes, I endm-ed my miserable self dying among these things, far from Thee, 6 God my life. •21. For what more miserable than a miserable being who commiserates not himself; weeping the death of Dido for love to JEneas, but weeping not his own death for want of love to Thee, O God. Thou hght of my heart. Thou bread of my inmost soul, Thou Power who givest vigom* to my mind, who quickenest my thoughts, I loved Thee not. I committed fornication against Thee, and all around me thus fornicating Jas. 4, 4. there echoed " Well done! well done !" for the friendship of this world is fornication 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 wept for Dido slain, and " seeking by the sword a stroke and wound extreme," myself seeking the while a worse extreme, the extremest and lowest of Thy creatures, having forsaken Thee, eailh passing into the eailh. 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 a richer learning, than that by Avhich I learned to read and write. •2*2. But now, my God, cry T'hou aloud in my soul ; and let Thy tnith tell me, " Not so, not so. Far better was that first study." For, lo, I would reachly forget the 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 em- blem of aught recondite, as a cloke of eiTor. Let not those, whom I no longer fear, cry out against me, while I confess to Thee, my God, whatever my soul will, and acquiesce in the S The" vail" was an emblem of honour, and the school itself, besides being a used in places of worship, and subse- mark of dignity, may, as S. Aug. perhaps quently in courts of law. Emperors' implies, have been intended to denote the palaces, and even private houses. See hidden mysteries taught therein, and that Du Fresnc and Hofl'mann sub v. 'J'liat the mass of mankind were not fit hearers between the vestibule, or proscholium, of truth. Irk so men ess oj' learning tempered by God to f/ood. 18 condemnation of my evil ways, that I may love Thy good ways. Let not either buyers or sellers of grammar-learning cry out against me. For if I question them whether it be true, that ^neas came on a time to Cailhage, as the Poet tells, the less learned will reply that they know not, the more learned that he never did. But should I ask with what letters the name " ^Eneas" is \vritten, eveiy one who has learnt this will answer me aright, as to the signs which men have con- ventionally settled. If, again, I should ask, which might 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 .? I sinned, then, when as a boy I prefeiTed 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 hateful sing-song : " the wooden horse lined with armed men," and '^ the burning of Troy," and " Creusa's shade and .^n. 2. 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 my boyish taste. And so I suppose would Virgil be to Grecian childi'en, when forced to learn him as I was Homer. Difii- culty, 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 my heart urged me to give birth to its conceptions, which I could only do by learning words not of those who taught, but of those who talked with me ; in whose ears also I gave birth to the thoughts, whatever I conceived. No doubt then, that a free cm'iosity has more force in our learning these things, than a frightfid enforcement. Only this enforcement re- strains the roviugs of that freedom, through Thy laws, O my God, Thy la\\ s, from the master's cane to the martyr's trials, 14 Evils in classical study ^ CONF. being able to temper for us a wholesome bitter, recalling us • • to Thyself from that deadly pleasm'e which lures us from Thee. ~ — — [XV.] 24. Hear, Lord, my prayer ; let not my soul faint under Thy discipUne, 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 become a delight to me above all the allurements which I once pursued ; that I may most entu'ely love Thee, and clasp Thy hand with all my affections, and Thou mayest yet rescue me from every tempt- ation, even unto the end. For, lo, O Lord, my King and my God, for Thy service be whatever useful thing my childhood learned ; for Thy service, that I speak — wiite — read — reckon. For Thou didst grant me Thy discipline, while I was learning vanities; and my sin of dehghting in those vanities 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 } How long shalt thou not be dried up? How long roll the sons of Eve into that huge and hideous ocean, which even they scarcely overpass who climb the cross .? Did not I read in thee of Jove the thmiderer and the adulterer ? Both, doubtless, he could not be ; but so the feigned thunder might countenance and pander to real adultery. And now which of our gowned masters, lends a sober ear to one^ who from their own school cries out, " These 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 fictions ; but attri- buting a divine natm'e to wicked men, that 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 rich rewards, for compassing such leaiiiing; and a great solemnity is made of it, when this is going on in the forum, within sight of laws appointing a salary beside the scholar's payments ; and thou lashest thy rocks and roarest, " Hence words are learnt ; hence eloquence ; most neces- 8 Cic. TuscuUl. i.e. 26, degrading God and man. 15 sary to gain your ends, _o r maintai n^c^anjons^" As if we should have never known such words as " golden shower," " lap," " beguile," " temples of the heavens," or others in that passage, unless 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 en-or which is diTink to us in them by intoxicated teachers ; 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 hiut may remember this,) all this unhappily I leai'ut willingly with great delight, and for this was pronounced a hopeful boy. [XVII.] 27. Beai' ^\'ith me, my God, while I say somewhat of my 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 feai* of stripes, to speak the words of Juno, as she raged and momned that she could not This Trojan prince from Latium turn. Which words I had heard that Juno never uttered ; but we were forced to go astray in the footsteps of these poetic fictions, and to say in prose much what 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 dignity of the cha- racter. What is it to me, O my true fife, my God, that my » Coleman's Terence, Eunuch, actiii. sc. 5. 16 Human knonledije preferred to dimne. CONF. declamation was apj^lauded above so many of my own age • and class ? Is not all this smoke and wind ? And was there nothing else whereon to exercise my wit and tongue ? Thy praises, Lord, Thy praises might have stayed the yet tender shoot of my heart by the prop of Thy Scriptm'es ; so had it not trailed away amid these empty trifles, a defiled prey for the fowls of the air. For in more ways than one do men sacrifice to the rebellious angels. [XVIIL] 28. But what marvel that I was thus carried away to vanities, and went out from Thy presence, O my God, when men were set before me as models, who, if in relating some action of theirs, in itself not ill, they committed some bar- barism or solecism, being censured, were abashed ; but when in rich and adorned and well-ordered discourse they related their own disordered life, being bepraised, they gloried ? These things Thou seest. Lord, and boldest Thy peace ; Ps. 86, lo}ig-sifffering, and plenteous in mercy and truth. Wilt Thou hold Thy peace for ever.^ And even now Thou drawest out of this horrible gulf the soul that seeketh Thee, that thirsteth Ps.27,8. for Thy pleasures, ivhose heart saith unto Thee, I have sought Rom. 1, Thy face ; Thy face, Lord, will I seek. For darkened affec- ' * tions is removal from Thee. For it is not by our feet, or change of place, that men leave Thee, or return unto Thee. Or did that Thy younger son look out for horses or chariots, or ships, fly with visible wings, or journey by the motion of his hmbs, that he might in a far country waste in riotous living all Thou gavest at his depai'ture } A loving Father, when Thou gavest, and more loving unto him, when he returned empty. So then in lustful, that is, in darkened aflections, 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- nanted rules of letters and syllables received from those who spake before them, neglecting the eternal covenant of ever- lasting salvation received from Thee. Insomuch, that a teacher or learner of the hereditary laws of pronunciation 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 Thine. As if any enemy could be more hurtful Inconsistent waynardness of his childhood. 17 than tlie hatred with which he is incensed against him; or conld wound more deeply him whom he xDersecutes, 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 w^ould be loth to suffer." How deep are Thy ways, O God, Thou only great, tit at sittest silent on high and by an unwearied law Is. 33,5. dispensing penal blindness to lawless desires. In quest of the fame of eloquence, a man standing before a human judge, suiTounded by a human throng, declaiming against his enemy with fiercest hatred, will take heed most watchfully, lest, by an eiTor of the tongue, he murder the word " human-being ;" but takes no heed, lest, through the fury of his spirit, he murder the real human being'. 30. This was the world at whose gate unhappy I lay in my boyhood; this the stage, where 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 away from Thine eyes. Ps.Si. Before them what more foid than I was already, displeasing even such as myself? with in numerable lie s deceiving my . A^ tutor, my masters, my parents, from lo ve of play , eagerness to L^| see vain shows, and restlessness to imitate them ! Thefts also I commiltedTlSnrmy parents^"^!^ an£L_taliLe>. enslaved b^;__ ^^ greedmesvtjr-that-i-mi^hthave to give to boys, who sold me their jDlay/whiclrainire while ~they-4iked- n_oiless_thanjr^ In this play, too, 1 often soiigKFuiilair con^iiests^-jCoiiquered myself meanwhile by vaiiTcIesire of preeminence. And what could I so ill endure, or, when I~dctccted it, upb raided I so fiercely, as that I was doing to others ^ and for which if, detectert^ I was upbraided, I chose rather to_quarrel, than toj yield. And is this the innocence of boyhood .? Not 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 spaiTows, to magistrates and kings, to gold and manors and slaves, just as * Lit. is careful not to say *' inter hominibus," but takes no care, lest — he destroy " homincm ex hominibus." 18 All admirable in him, but his sin. CONF. severer punishments disj^lace the cane. It was the low sta- — '—^ ture then of childhood, which Thou our King didst commend ^lait. as an emblem of lowliness, when Thou saidst. Of such is the 19 14. . kiuf/dom 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 well-being, — a trace of that mysterious Unity "^, whence I was derived ; — I guarded by the^ inward sense the entireness" 6"f~'my~seiises^, and in these minute pm'suits, and in my thoughts on things minute, I leamt to delight in truth, I hated to be deceived, had a vigorous memory, was gifted with speech, was soothed by friendship, avoided pain, baseness, ignorance. In so small a creatm'e, what was not wonderful, not admirable } But all are 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 w^ill I exult for every good which of a boy I had. For it was my sin, that not in Him, but in His creatures — myself and others — I sought for pleasm'es, sublimities, tiniths, and so fell headlong into sorrows, confusions, eiTors. Thanks be to Thee, my joy and my glory and my confidence, my God, thanks be to Tliee 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 even to be Thou hast given me. k To be, is no other than to be one. selves, because they are one ; but things In as far, therefore, as any thing attains compounded, imitate unity by the har- unity, in so far it ' is.' For unity work- mony of their parts, and, so far as they etb congruity and harmony, whereby attain to unity, they are. Wherefore order things composite are, in so far as they are: and rule secure being, disorder tends to for things uncompounded are ia them- not-being. Aug. de morib. Manich. c. 6. THE SECOND BOOK. 01)ject of these Confessions. Further ills of idleness developed in his sixteenth year. Evils of ill society, which betrayed him into theft. [T.] 1. I will now call to mind my past foulness, and the carnal con-uptions of my soul : not b ecause I love^ them, but that I may love Thee, O my God. For love of Thy love I do it ; reviewiiigluy most wicked ways in the very bitterness of my remembrance, that Thou mayest grow sweet unto me ; (Thou sweetness never failing, Thou blissful and assured sweetness ;) and gathering me again out of that my dissipation, wherein I was torn piecemeal, while tiuiied from Thee, the One Good, I lost myself among a multiplicity of things. For I even bmiit in my youth heretofore, to be satiated in things below; and I dared to grow wild again, with these various and shadowy loves : my beauty consumed away, and I stank in Thine eyes ; pleasing myself, and desirous to please in the eyes of men. [II.] 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 bright boundary ; 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 Jove, from the fog of lust;^ fulness. Both did confusedly boil in me, and huiiied my unstayed youth over the precipice of unholy desires, and sunk me in a gulf of flagitiousnesses. Thy wrath had gathered over me, and I knew it not. I was gro^\Ti deaf by the clank- ing of the chain of my mortality, 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 fiiiitless seed-plots of sorrows, with a proud dejectedness, and a restless weariness. c 2 '20 Man's neglect of youlh, and God's care of it. CONF. 3. Oh! that some one had then attempered my disorder, and — '■ — — turned to accomit the fleeting beauties of these, the extreme points of Thy creation ! had put a bound to their pleasurable- ness, that so the tides of my youth might have cast themselves upon the marriage shore, if they could not be calmed, and kept within the object of a family, as Thy law prescribes, OLord: who this way formest the offspring of this om' death, being able with a gentle hand to blunt the thorns, which were excluded from Thy paradise ? For Thy omnipotency is not far from us, even when we be far from Thee. Else ought I more watchfully to have heeded the voice from the clouds ; ^ Cq\ J , Nevertheless such shall hare trouble in the Jiesh., but I spare ver 1 y^^^' ^^^^ '^ is good for a man not to touch a woman. And, ver. 32, he that is unmarried thinketh of the things of the Lord, how ^^- he may please the Lord ; but he that is married careth for tlie things of this world, how he may please his tvife. 4. To these words I should have listened more atten- Mat. I9,tively, and being severed for the kingdom of heaven's sake, had more happily awaited Thy embraces ; but I, poor wretch, foamed hke a troubled sea, follo\^dng the rushing of my o\vn tide, forsaking Thee, and exceeded all Thy limits ; yet I escaped not Thy scom'ges. For what mortal can? For Thou wert ever with me mercifully rigorous, and besprinkling with most bitter alloy all my unlawful pleasures: that I might seek pleasures mthout alloy. But where to find such, I coidd not discover, save in Thee, O Lord, who teachest by sorrow^, and woundest Deut. us, to heal ; and killest us, lest we die from Thee. Where 32, 29. ^^g j^ Q^^ ]^Q^ £^j, ^g^g J q^^Iq^ fj-ojjj ^l^g delights of Thy house, in that sixteenth year of the age of my flesh, when the madness of lust (to which human shamelessness giveth free license, though milicensed by Thy laws) took the rule over me, and I resigned myself wholly to it ? My friends mean- while took no care by maniage to save my fall ; their only care was that I shoidd learn to speak excellently, and be a persuasive orator. » Ps. 93, 20. Vulg. Lit. " formest those Thy sons, that they should not be trouble in or as a precept." Thou mak- without fear, lest they should love some- est to us a precept out of trouble, so that thing else, and forget Thee, their true trouble itself shall be a precept to us, i.e. good. S. Aug. ad loc. hast willed so to discipline and instruct Effects of idleness — his moiher^s fears for 1dm. 21 [III.] 5. For that year were my studies intermitted: whilst after my return from Madaura**, (a neighbour city, whither I had journeyed to learn grammar and rhetoric,) the expenses for a further journey to Carthage w^ere being provided for me ; and that, rather by the resolution than 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 Thee to mine own kind, even to that small portion of mankind as may light upon these writings of mine. And to what pmpose.? that ^ whosoever reads this, may think out of ichat depths ice are P§. 130, to cry unto TJiee. For what is nearer to Thine ears than a '1 confessing heart, and a life of faith ? Who did not extol my father, for that beyond the ability of his means, he would furnish his son with all necessaries for a far journey for his studies' sake ? For many far abler citizens did no such thing for then* children. But yet this same father had no concern, how I grew towards Thee, or how chaste I were; so that I were but copious in speech, how^ever baiTen I were to Thy rijr^ culture, (J (J od, who art the oiily true and good Lord of Thy ^ field, my heart. -^ 6. But while in that my sixteenth year I lived with my parents, leaving all school for a while, (a season of idleness being interposed through the narrowness of my parents' fortunes,) the briers of miclean desires grew rank over my head, and there was no hand to root them out. When that my father saw me at the baths, now grooving toward man- hood, and endued with a restless yovithfidness, he, as already hence anticipating his descendants, gladly told it to my mother; rejoicing in that tumult of the senses wherein the world forgetteth Thee its Creator, and becometh enamom*ed of Thy creature, instead of Thyself, through the fumes of that , invisible wine of its self-will, tmiiing aside and bowing down to the very basest things. But in my mother's breast Thou hadst already begun 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 b Formerly an episcopal city; now a fathers," in a litter persuading them to small village. At this lime the inhabitants embrace the (iospel. Kp. 23i. were heathen, S. Aug. call? them " his 22 God spake to him through his mother — 7?ien ashamed not to sin . CONF. yet baptized, feared for me those crooked ways, in which — : — '- they walk, who turn their hack to Thee, and not their face. 27.' ' 7. Woe is me ! and dare I say that Thou heldest Thy peace, my God, while I wandered further from Thee ? Didst Thou then indeed hold Thy peace to me ? And whose but Thine . 'fl were these words which by my mother. Thy faithful one, Thou Ijr^ ^ sangest in my ears ? Nothing whereof simk into my heart, so . ' as to do it. For she wished, and I remember in private with ^V^ great anxiety warned me, " not to commit fornication; but especially never to defile another's wife." These seemed ^ JUv to me womanish advices, 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 w^ert not silent unto me ; and in her wast despised by Ps. li6,me, her son, the son of Thy handmaid, Thy servant. But ^^' I knew it not; and ran headlong with such blindness, that, amongst my equalsfl was ashamed of a less shamelessness, ^ when I heard them obast of their flagitiousness, yea, and the more boasting, 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 dispraise but Vice ? But I made myself worse than I was, that 1 might not be dispraised; and when in any thing I had not sinned as the abandoned ones, 1 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 what companions I walked the streets of Babylon, and wallowed in the mire thereof, as if in a bed of spices, and precious ointments. And that I might cleave the faster to its veiy centre, the invisible enemy trod me down, and seduced me, for that I was easy to be seduced. Neither Ter. 51, did the mother of my flesh, (who had now Jted out of the centre of Babylon, yet went more slowly in the skirts thereof,) as she advised me to chastity, so heed what she had heard of me from her husband, as to restrain mthin the bounds of conjugal affection, (if it could not be pared away to the quick,) what she felt to be pestilent at present, and for the future dangerous. She heeded not this, for 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 reposed 6. Aiig^'s theft for the mere pleasure of thieciug. 23 in Thee; but the hope of learning, which both my parents were too desirous I should attain; my father, because he had next to no thought of Thee, and of me but vain conceits ; my mother, because she accounted that those usual courses of learning woidd not only be no hindrance, but even some fiutherance towards attaining Thee. For thus I conjectui'e, recalling, as well as I may, the disposition of my parents. The reins, mean time, were slackened to me, beyond all temper of due severity, to spend my time in sport, yea, even unto dis- soluteness in whatsoever I affected. And in all was a mist, intercepting from me, O my God, the brightness of Thy truth ; and mine iniquity hurst out as from very fatness. Ps. 73, [IV.] 9. Theft is punished by Thy law, O Lord, and"^- the law written in the hearts of men, which iniquity itself effaces not. For what thief will abide a thief .^ not even a rich thief, one stealing through want. Yet I lusted to thieve, and did it, compelled by no hunger, nor poverty, but through -^l.^ a cloyedness of welldoing, and a pamperedness of iniquity. r For I stole that, of which I had enough, and much better. ^^ Nor cared I to enjo}^ what I stole, but joyed in the theft and 4 sin itself. A j)ear tree there was near oiu- vineyard, laden otCL ^^dth fruit, tempting neither for colom* nor taste. To shake and rob this, some lewd young fellows of us w^ent, 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, but to do, what we liked only, because it was misliked. Behold my heart, O God, behold my heart, which Thou hadst pity upon in the bottom of the bottomless pit. Now, behold let my heart tell Thee, what it sought there, that I should be gratuitously evil, having no temptation to ill, but the ill itself. It was foul, and I loved it; I loved to perish, I loved mine own fault, not that for which I was faulty, but my fault itself. Foul soul, falling from Thy firmament to utter destruction ; not seeking aught through the shame, but the shame itself! [v.] 10. For there is an attractiveness in beautiful bodies, in gold and silver, and all things ; and in bodily touch, sym- pathy hath much influence, and each other sense hath his 24 All siji pro})Oses some end; CONF. proper object answerably tempered. Worldly honour 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 Lord, nor decline from Thy law. The life also which here we live hath its own enchantment, through a certain proportion of its own, and a correspondence with all things beautiful here below. Human friendship also is endeared with a sweet tie, by reason of the unity fonned of many souls. Upon occasion of all these, and the like, is sin committed, while through an immoderate inclination towards these goods of the lowest order, the better and higher are forsaken, — Thou, our Lord God, Thy truth, and Thy law. For these lower things have their delights, Ps. 64, but 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, then, we ask why a crime was done, we be- lieve it not, unless it appear that there might have been some desire of obtaining some of those which we called lower goods, or a fear of losing them. For they ai'e beautiful and comely ; although compared with those higher and beatific goods, they be abject and low. A man hath mur- dered another ; why } he loved his wife or his estate ; or would rob for his own livelihood ; or feared to lose some such thing by him ; or, wronged, was on fire to be revenged. Would any commit murder upon no cause, delighted simply in murdering } Wlio 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''; " lesf (saith he) " through idleness hand or heart should grow in- active." And to what end \ That, through that practice of guilt, he might, having taken the city, attain to honom-s, empire, riches, and be freed from fear of the laws, and his embaiTassments from domestic needs, and consciousness of villanies. So then, not even Catiline himself loved his own villanies, but something else, for whose sake he did them. [VL] 1*2. AVhat then did \vretched I so love in thee, thou theft of mine, thou deed of darkness, in that sixteenth year of my age.? Lovely thou wert not, because thou wert theft. But <= Sallust. de Bell. Catil. c. 9. iuiitates penerledly some excellence of God. 25 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 ^^Tetched soul desire; for I had store of better, and those I gathered, only that I might steal. For, when gathered, I flung them away, my only feast therein being my own sin, which I was pleased to enjoy. For if aught of those pears came within my mouth, what sweetened it was the sin. And now, O Lord my God, I enquire what in that theft delighted me ; and behold it hath no loveliness ; I mean not such loveliness as injustice and wisdom ; nor such as is in the mind and memory, and senses, and animal life of man ; nor yet as the stars are glorious and beautiful in their orbs; or the earth, or sea, full of embryo-life, replacing by its bu'th that which decayeth ; nay, nor even that false and shadowy beauty, which belongeth to deceiving vices. 13. For so doth pride imitate exaltedness; whereas Thou Alone art God exalted over all. Ambition, what seeks it, but honours and glory? whereas Thou Alone art to be honoured above all, and glorious for evermore. The cruelty of the great would fain be feared; but who is to be feared but God alone, out of whose power what can be wTested or with- drawn.? when, or where, or whither, or by whom? The tendernesses of the wanton would fain be counted love : yet is nothing more tender than Thy charity; nor is aught loved more healthfully than that Thy truth, bright and beautiful above all. Curiosity makes semblance of a desire of know- ledge ; whereas Thou supremely knowest all. Yea, igno- rance and foolishness itself is cloked under the name of simplicity and uninjuriousness; because nothing is found more single than Thee: and what less injurious, since they are his own works, which injm'e the sinner*^? Yea, sloth would fain be at rest; but what stable rest besides the Lord? Luxury affects to be called plenty and abundance; d After this will come just judgment, and ineffable light of God need produce of which he (the Psalmist) so speaks, that out of Itself that whereby sins were to be we may understand that each man's own punished ; for He so disposeth sins, that sin is the instrument of his punishment, what were delights to n)an sinning, are the and his iniquity is turned into his torment ; instruments of the lord punishing. S. that we niav not think, that that serenity A»ig. in Ps. 7, 15. 26 Men seek in the creature, what is only in the Creator. CONF. but Thou art the fulness and never-failing plenteousness of — '• — - incorruptible pleasures. Prodigality presents a shadow of liberality: but Thou art the most overflowing Giver of all good. Covetousness would possess many things: and Thou possessest all things. Envy disputes for excellency: what more excellent than Thou.? Anger seeks revenge: who revenges more justly than Thou.? Fear startles at things unwonted and sudden, which endanger things beloved, and takes forethought for theu' safety; but to Thee what Rom. 8, im wonted or sudden, or who separateth from Thee what ^' Thou lovest? Or where but with Thee is mishaken safety? Grief pines away for things lost, the delight of its desires ; because it would have nothing taken from it, as notliing can from Thee. 14. Thus doth the soul commit fornication, when she tmiis from Thee, seeking without Thee, what she findeth not pm'e and untainted, till she returns to Thee. Thus all pervertedly imitate Thee, who remove far from Thee, and lift themselves up agamst Thee. But even by thus imitating Thee, they imply Thee to be the Creator of all nature; whence there is no place whither altogether to retire from Thee. What then did I love in that theft.? and wherein did I even corruptly and perv^ertedly imitate my Lord? Did I wish even by stealth to do contrary to Thy law, because by power I could not, so that being a prisoner, I might mimic a maimed liberty by doing with impmiity things mipennitted Jonah nie, a darkened likeness of Thy Omnipotency^? Behold, c.i.&4.'p]^y servant, fleeing from his Lord, and obtaining a shadow. rottenness, O monstrousness of life, and depth of death ! could I like what I might not, only because I might not ? Ps. 116, [VII.] 15. What shall I render unto the Lord, that, whilst my memory recals these things, my soul is not af- fi-'ighted at them? / will love Thee, O Lord, and thank Thee, and confess unto Thy name; because Thou hast forgiven me these so great and heinous deeds of mine. To Thy grace I ascribe it, and to Thy mercy, that Thou hast melted away my sins as it were ice. To Thy grace 1 ascribe also ^^hatsoever I have not done of evil; for what * Souls in tlieir very sins seek but a perverted, and, so to say, slavish freedom, sort of hkeness of God, in a proud and Aug. de Trin. 1. xi. c. 5. Through God alone are men keptfrom^ or healed of, a?i{/ sin. 27 might I not have done, who even loved a sin for its own sake? Yea, all I confess to have been forgiven me; both what evils I committed by my own wilfulness, and what by Thy guidance I committed not. AVhat man is he, who, weighing his o\vn infirmity, dares to ascribe his purity and innocency to his own strength ; that so he should love Thee the less, as if he had less needed Thy mercy, whereby Thou remittest sins to those that turn to Thee? For whosoever, called by Thee, followed Thy voice, and avoided those things which he reads me recalling and confessing of myself, let him not scorn me, who being sick, was cm'ed by that Physician, through Whose aid it was that he was not, or rather was less, sick: and for this let him love Thee as much, yea and more ; since by Whom he sees me to have been recovered from such deep consumption of sin, by Him he sees himself to have been from the like consumption of sin preserved. [VIII.] 16. What fruit had I then (wretched man!) /;? Rom. 6, tltose tilings, of the remembrance whereof I am now * asliamed? Especially, in that theft which I loved for the theff s sake ; and it too was nothing \ and therefore the more miserable I, who loved it. Yet alone I had not done it: such was I then, I rememb er, alone I had never done it. I J oved then in it ^l^o_the~^compajTT^~^3f^j^g[^a^ with whom I did it? I did not then love nothmgnelse^ but ttie theft, yea rathernr~Hrd~~luTe~ TnTthing^e Isel jfor that circumstance of the company was also nothing. What i&,-m -truth ? who can-teaijlrnie, save HethaF enlighteneth my heart, and discovereth its dark comers? What is it which hath come into nly mind to enquire, and discuss, and consider? For had I then loved the pears I stole, and wished to enjoy them, I might have done it alone, had the bare commission of the theft sufficed to attain my pleasm'e; nor needed I have inflamed the itching of my desires, by tlie excitement of accomplices. But since my pleasure was not in those pears, it was in the offence itself, which the com- pany of fellow-sinners occasioned. [IX.] 17. What then was this feeling? For of a truth it was too fold : and woe was me, who had it. But yet what ' See iii. 7. vii. 12. (old ed.) 28 Man not strong enough to hear ill society. CONF. was it ? Who can understand his errors ? It was the sport, B II which, as it were, tickled our hearts, that we beguiled, those J I* * who little thought what we were doing, and much misliked it. 'Why then was my delight of such sort, that I did it not alone ? Because none doth ordinarily laugh alone ? 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. Yet I had not done this alone ; alone I had never never done it. Behold my G od, before Thee, the vivid remembrance of my soul ; alone, I had never committed that theft, wherein what I stole pleased me not, but that I stole ; nor had it alone liked me to do it, nor had I done it. O friendship too unfriendly ! thou incomprehensible inveigler of the soul, thou greediness to do mischief out of mirth and wantonness, thou thirst of others' loss, without lust of my own gain or revenge : but when it is said, " Let's go, let's do it," we are ashamed not toi0 shameless. ~ ■ ""^ [X.] 18. Who can disentangle that twisted and intricate knottiness ? Foul is it : I hate to think on it, to look on it. But Thee I long for, O Righteousness and Innocency, beau- tiful and comely to all pure eyes, and of a satisfaction un- sating. With Thee is rest entire, and life imperturbable. Matt. Whoso enters into Thee, enters into the joy of his Lord: and shall not fear, and shall do excellently in the iUl-Excel- lent. 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 to myself a barren land. 25,21. THE THIRD BOOK. His residence at Carthage from his seventeenth to his nineteenth year. Source of his disorders. Love of shows. Advance in studies, and love of wisdom. Distaste for Scripture. Led astray to the Manichaeans. Re- futation of some 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. [I.] 1. To Carthage I came, where there sang all around me in my ears a cauldron of unholy loves. I loved not yet, yet I loved to love, and out of a deep-seated want, I hated myself for wanting not. I sought what I might love, in love \^'ith loving, and safety I hated, and a way without snares. For within me was a famine of that inward food. Thyself, my God ; yet, through that famine I was not hungered ; but was \Aithout all longing for incorruptible sustenance, not be- cause filled therewith, but the more 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 scraped by the touch of objects of sense. Yet if these had not a soul, they 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 defiled, therefore, the spring of friendship with the filth of concupiscence, and I beclouded its brightness with the hell of lustfulness ; and thus foul and unseemly, I would fain, through exceeding vanity, be fine and coiu*tly. 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 sweet- ness } For I was both beloved, and secretly arrived at the bond of enjoying ; and was with joy fettered with sorrow- bringing bonds, that I might be scourged mth the iron burn- ing rods of jealousy, and suspicions, and fears, and angers, and quan-els. [II.] 2. Stage-plays also carried me away, full of images of my miseries, and of fuel to my fire. Why is it, that man desires to be made sad, beholding doleful and tragical things, which yet himself would by no means suffer.? yet he desires 30 Difference between false and real sympathy ; CONF. as a spectator to feel son-ow at them, and this very soitow — '- '- is his pleasure. What is this but a miserable madness ? for a man is the more affected with these actions, the less free he is from such affections. Howsoever, when he suffers in his own person, it uses to be styled misery : when he compassionates others, 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 teai's, 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. Or whereas no man likes to be miserable, is he yet pleased to be merciful? which because it cannot be without passion, for this reason alone are passions loved ? This also springs from that vein of friendship. But whither goes that vein,? whither flows it? wherefore nms it into that'' toiTent of pitch bubbling forth those monstrous tides of foul lustfulness, into which it is wilfully changed and transformed, being of its own mil preci- pitated and coriTipted from its heavenly clearness ? Shall compassion then be put away? by no means. Be griefs then sometimes loved. But beware of uncleanness, O my soul, under Song of the guardianship of my God, the God of our fathers, who is to Chil- he praised and exalted above all for e^'er,beware of uncleanness. dren, jTor I have not now ceased to pity ; but then in the theatres '• I rej oiced with lovers, when they mckedl y enj oy ed one another, although this was imaginary only in the play. And when they lost one another, as if very compassionate, I soiTowed with them, yet had my delight in both. But now I 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 it, grief delights not. For though he that grieves for the miserable, be commended for his office of •c He alludes co the sea of Sodom, itself, remain unmoveable : wherefore it which is said to bubble out a pitchy is called the Dead Sea. (old. ed.) See slime, into which other rivers running. Tacit. Hist. 1. v. are there lost in it. And like the lake injury of u ureal sympathy. 31 charity; yet had he, who is genuinely compassionate, rather there were nothing for him to grieve for. For if good will be ill willed, (which can never be,) then may he, who truly and sincerely commiserates, wish there might be some miserable ^ that he might commiserate. Some soitow may then be al- lowed, none loved. For thus dost Thou, O Lord God, who lovest souls far more purely than we, and hast more incor- ruptibly pity on them, yet art wounded with no soiTowfulness. And who is sufficient for these things? 2 Cor. 2, 4. But I, miserable, then loved to grieve, and sought out what to grieve at, when in another's and that feigned and personated misery, that acting best pleased me, and attracted me the most vehemently, which di'ew tears from me. What marvel that an mihappy sheep, straying from Thy flock, and impatient of Thy^ keeping, I became infected with a foul 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 upon hearing their fictions should lightly scratch the surface; upon which as on envenomed nails, followed inflamed swelling, impostumes, and a putrified sore. My life being such, was it life, O my God? [III.] 5. And Thy faithful mercy hovered over me afar. UjDon how grievous iniquities consumed I myself, pm'suing a sacrilegious curiosity, that having forsaken Thee, it might bring me to the treacherous abyss, and the beguiling ser- vice of devils, to whom I sacrificed my evil actions, and in aU these things thou didst scourge me ! I dared even, while Thy solemnities were celebrated within the walls of Thy Church, to desire, and to compass a business, deserving death for its fruits, for which Thou scourgedst me with grievous punish- ments, though nothing to my faidt, O Thou my exceeding mercy, my God, my refuge from those tenible destroyers, among whom I wandered with a stiff neck, withdrawing further from Thee, loving mine own ways, and not Thine ; loving a vagrantlibcrty. ^^^o^ ■ 6. Those studies also, which were accounted commendable, had a view to excelling in the courts of litigation ; the more hPjl22j?i^^^li ^^^^ ^^Vift^fT Such is men's blindness, glorying even in their blindness. And now I was chief in the rhetoric school, whereat I joyed proudly, and T swelled with arrogancy, 3*2 Philofiophy made the hegimunys of his cofiversio??. CON F. though (Lordj Thou knowest) far quieter and altogether re- — Amoved from the subvertings of those '' Subverters*"* " (for this ill-omened and devilish name, was the very badge of gallantry) among whom I lived, with a shameless shame that I was not even as they. With them I lived, and was sometimes delighted with their friendship, whose doings I ever did abhor, i. e. their *' subvertings," wherewith they wantonly persecuted the modesty of strangers, which they disturbed by a gratuitous jeering, feeding thereon their ma- licious mirth. Nothing can be liker the very actions of devils than these. What then could they be more truly called than " subverters .?" themselves subverted and alto- gether perverted first, the deceiving spirits secretly deriding and seducing them, wherein themselves delight to jeer at, and deceive others. [IV.] 7. Among such as these, in that unsettled age of mine, learned I books of eloquence, wherein I desired 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 " Hortenslns?'* 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 incredibly burning desire for an immortality of wisdom, and began now to arise, that I might return to Thee. For not to sharpen my tongue, (which thing I seemed to be purchasing mth my mother's allowances, in that my nineteenth 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. 8. How did I bum then, my God, how did I burn to re- mount 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 which * Eversores. This appears to have Ep. 1 85. ad Bonifac. c. 4 ; and below, been a name which a pestilent and sa- 1. 5. c. 12, whence they seem to have vage set of persons gave themselves, licen- consisted mainly of Carthaginian slu- tious alike in speech and action. Aug. dents, whose savage life is mentioned names them again, de Vera Relig. c. 40. again, ib. c. 8. Aug^sloveofthe name of Christ, hut distaste for Scripture. 33 that book inflamed mc. Some there be that seduce through philosophy, under a great, and smooth, and honourable name colouring and disguising their own errors : and almost all who in that and foimer ages w^ere such, are in that book censured and set forth : there also is made plain that whole- some advice of Thy Spirit, by Thy good and devout servant ; Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain Col. 2, deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ. For in Him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead hodily. And since at that time ^ (Thou, O light of my heaii, knowest) Apostolic . Scriptiue was < not known to me, I was delighted with that exhortation, so far only, that I was thereby strongly roused, and kmdled, and inflamed to love, and seek, and obtain, and hold, and embrace not this or that sect, but wisdom itself whatever 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, O Lord, this name of my Saviour Thy Son, had \ my tender heart, even with my mother's milk, devoutly dnink / in, and deeply treasured ; and whatsoever was without that / name, though never so learned, polished, or true, took not entire hold of me. [v.] 9. I resolved then to bend my mind to the holy__ Scriptures, that I might see what they were. But behold, I see a thing not understood by the proud, nor laid open to children, lowly in access, in its recesses lofty, and veiled with mysteries ; and I was not such as could enter into it, or stoop my neck to follow its steps. For not as I now speak, did I feel when I turned to those Scriptvu-es ; but they seemed to me unworthy to be compared to the stateliness of Tju11j-> for my swelling pride shmnk from their lowhncss, nor could my sharp wit pierce the interior 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. [VI.] 10. Therefore I fell among men" ])roudly doting, cxceed- a In the Preface to the book " On the them, on the benefits of believing before Benefit of Believing," S. Aug. speaks we can see. " Thou knowest, Hono- further on the errors which betrayed him ratus, that the circumstance which led to the INIanichees. He is writing to Ho- me among those men, was their profes- noratus, who was still detained among sion, that, setting aside the terrors of 34 Aug's love of truths while he fell into error. CONF. ing carnal and prating, in whose mouths were the snai'es of ?Jiilthe Devil, limed with the mixture of the syllables of Thy name, and of our Lord Jesus Christ, and of the Holy Ghost, the Paraclete, our Comforter. These names departed not out of their mouth, but so far forth, as the sound ^ only and the noise of the tongue, for the heart was void of truth. Yet they cried out '' Truth, Truth," and spake much thereof to me, 1 John yet it was not in them : but they spake falsehood, not of ^' "^- Thee only, (who truly art Tmth,) but even of those elements of this world. Thy creatures. And I indeed ought to have passed by even philosophers who spake truth concerning them, for love of Thee, my Father, supremely good. Beauty of all things beautiful. 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 ? And these were the dishes wherein to me, hungering after Thee, they, instead of Thee, served up the Sun and Moon, beautifid 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 they be, and shining. But I hvmgered and thirsted not even after those first works of Thine, but after Thee Thy- Jam. 1, self, the Truth, m tvho7n is no variableness, neither shadow of ^'' turning: yet they still set before me in those dishes, glit- tering fantasies, than which better were it to love this very sun, (which is real to our sight at least,) than those fantasies which by our eyes deceive oiu mind. Yet because I thought them to be Thee, I fed thereon; not eagerly % for Thou didst authority, they would lead such as would school, despising things as old wives' listen to them, to God by the plain and fables, and longing to drink in and retain simple way of reason, and would rescue the open and unmixed truth which they them from all errors. For what else led promised ? But what again recalled me me, for nearly nine years, despising the from being altogether fixed among them, religion which was in my boyhood in- and held me in the class of ' Hearers,' grafted into me by my parents, to follow as they term it, so that I let not go the and be a diligent hearer of those men, hopes and cares of this world, but that I but that they alleged that we were terri- observed that they were rather fluent and fied by superstition, and that faith was copious in refuting others, than solid and enjoined to us before reason, while they settled in establishing their own views 1" urged no one to believe, until the Irath t» See note A at the end ; §. iii. had been sifted and cleared ? Who would ^ " I fell among men, who held that that not be attracted by such promises, espe- light which we see with our eyes, is to be cially such as they then found me, an worshipped as a chief object of reverence, youthful mind, longing for truth, but I assented not; yet thought that under puffed up and prating by aid of the dis- this covering they veiled something of putes of some even learned men in the great account, which they would after- Erroneous belief in God nourishes not. 35 not in them taste to mc as Thou art; for Thou wast not these emptinesses, nor was I nourished by them, but exhausted rather. Food in sleep shews very Hke our food awake ; yet are not those asleep nomished by it, for they are asleep. But those were not even any way like to Thee, as Tliou hast now spoken to me; for those were corporeal fantasies, false bodies, than which these true bodies, celestial or terrestrial, w^hich with om* fleshly sight we behold, are far more certain: these things the beasts and birds discern as well as we, and they are more certain than when we fancy them. And again, we do with more certainty fancy them, than by them conjec- tiu-e other vaster and infinite bodies which have no being. Such empty husks was I then fed on ; and was not fed. But Thou, my soul's Love, in looking for whom I fail, that I may Ps. 69, become strong, art neither those bodies which we see, though ' in heaven; nor those which we see not there; for Tliou hast created them, nor dost Thou account them among the chief- est of Thy w^orks. How far then art Thou fi*om those fantasies of mine, fantasies of bodies which altogether are not, than which the images of those bodies, which are, are far more cer- tain, and more certain still the bodies themselves, which yet Thou art not ; no, nor yet the soul, which is the life of the bodies. So then, better and more certain is the life of the bodies, than / the bodies. But Thou art the life of souls, the life of lives, having life in Thyself; and changest not, life of my soul. 1 1 . Where then wert Thou then to me, and how far from me ? Far verily was I straying from Thee, baiTcd from the very husks of the swine, whom with husks I fed. For how much better are the fables of poets and grammarians, than these snares } For verses, and poems, and '' Medea flying," are more profitable truly, than these men's five elements*^, variously disguised, answering to five dens of dai'kness, which have no being, yet slay the believer. For verses and poems I can turn to *^ ti*ue food, and " Medea flying," though I did sing, I maintained not ; though I heard it sung, I believed not : but those things wards lay open." Aug. de vita Beata, him (Petilian) defame, if he will, by the Praef. See further, note A at the end ; ludicrous title of poisoning and corrupt- $. i. and iii. b. ing phrensy." Aug. meant in mockery, *1 See note A at the end ; ^. i. b. that by verses he could get his bread ; « Of this passage S. Aug. is probably his calumniator seems to have twisted the speaking, when he says, "Praises be- word to signify a love-potion, c. lit. Peti- stowed on bread in simplicity of heart, let liani, 1. iii. c. IG. d2 S6 God, sought wrongly, is ttol found . CONF. I did believ^e. W<)e, woe,- by what steps was I brought down — : Lto the depths of hell/ toilmg and turmoiling through want of jg"^* ' 'Truth, since I sought after Thee, my God, (to Thee I confess it, who hadst mercy on me, not as yet confessing,) not accord- ing to the understanding of the mind, wherein Thou wdlledst that I should excel the beasts, but according to the sense of the flesh. But Thou wert more inward to me, than my most inward part; and higher than my highest^. I lighted upon Prov. 9, 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 ivaters 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 through 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, persuaded to assent to foolish deceivers, when they asked me, '' whence is eyiP ?" " is God bounded by a bodily shape, f!nd has haii^ and nails .?" " are they to be esteemed righteous, who had many 1 Kings wives at once, and did kill men, and sacrificed living creatures V ' ' At which I, in my ignorance, was much troubled, and depart- ing 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 my mind to a phantasm ? And I knew not .John 4, God to he a Spirit, not One who hath parts extended 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 certain space, than in its infinitude ; and so is not wholly every where, as Spirit, as God. And what that should be in us, by which we were like to God, and might in Scripture be rightly said Gen. 1, to be after the Image of God, I was altogether ignorant. 13. Nor knew I that true inward righteousness, which 'I See below, b. vii. c. 12 and 16. such heaps of empty fables, that unless <= EvoD. Tell me whence we do evil? my love of finding the truth had ob- Auo. You start a question, which, when tained for me the Divine aid, I could rather young, greatly harassed me, and never have come out thence, or have drove and cast me headlong and worn breathed even -so freely, as to be able among the heretics. Through which fall to enquire at all. Aug. de lib. Arb. I. i, 1 was so broken and overwhelmed by ^. 4. 27 God's laiv in itself Ihe same, iit application varies. 37 judgeth not according to custom, but out of tlie most rightful law of God Almighty, whereby the ways of places and times were disposed, according to those times and places ; itself meantime 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, and all those commended by the mouth of God ; but were judged unrighteous by silly men, judging out of manh judgment^ and measuring by their own i Cor. petty habits, the moral habits of the whole human race. As if ' * in an ai^ory, one ignorant what were adapted to each part, should cover his head with greaves, or seek to be shod with a helmet, and complain that they fitted not: or as if on a day, when, business is publicly stopped in the aYtemoon, one were ^ angered at not being allowed to keep open shop, because he had been in the forenoon ; or when in one house he observeth some servant take a thing in his hand, which the butler is not suffered to meddle with; or something per- mitted 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 allotted every where, and to all. Even such are they, H^ho are fretted to hear something to have been lawful for righteous men formerly, which now is not ; or that God, for certain temporal respects, commanded them one thing, and these another, obeying both the same righteous- ness : 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 tim.e not so ; in one comer permitted or commdnded, but in another rightly forbidden and punished. Is justice therefore various or mutable ? No, but the times, over which it presides, flow not evenly, because they are times. But men, whose dags h)h 14, are few upon the earth, for that by their senses' they cannot^" harmonize the causes of things in former ages and other nations^ which they had no experience of, with these which they have experience of, whereas in one and the same ])ody, ^ " In this world of sense, we must very again, what, as a part, nftends, docs, in earnestly consider the force of time and the judgment of one well-skilled, only place; so as to understand, that what as offend, because the whole is not seen, a part, whether of time or place, gives wherewith that part admirably harmo- pleasure, is, as a whole, far better ; and nizcs." Aug. de Ordine. 1. ii. $. 51. 38 Actions of Pa trlarchs prophetic. CONF. day, or family, they easily see what is fitting for each — 1 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 obsen^ed; they struck my sight on all sides, and I saw them not. I indited verses, in which I might not place every foot every where, but differ- ently in different metres ; nor even in any one metre the self-same foot in all places. Yet the art itself, by which I in- dited, 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 contain in one all those things which God commanded, and in no part varied ; although in vai-ying times it prescribed not every thing at once, but apportioned and enjoined what was fit for each. And I, in my blindness, censui'ed the holy Fathers, not only wherein they made use of things present as God commanded and inspired them, \ ' but also wherein they were foretelling things to come, as God was revealing in them ' . Mat. 22, [VIII.] 15. Can it at any time or place be imjust to love ~ ' God with all his heart, with all his soul, and with all his 7nitid; and his neighbour as him self f Therefore are those foul offences which be against natm'e, to be every where and at all times detested and punished ; such as were those of the men of Sodom : which should all nations commit, they should all stand guilty of the same crime, by the law of God, which hath not so 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 natm'e, of which He is Author, ? As in typical actions of the Pa- For all these things, as the Apostle says, triarchs. " On this [the calumnies against were our ensamples." (1 Cor. 10, 6.) the Patriarchs] I would first say, that not Aug. c. Faust. 1. xxii. c. 24. " God so their words only, but their life was pro- accounted of these men, and at that time phetic ; and that the whole kingdom of made them such heralds of His Son, that the Hebrew nation was one great prophet, not only in what they said, but in what because the prophet of one Great One. they did, or what happened to them. Wherefore in those among them, who ivere Christ is sought, Christ is found. What- tanght within by theWisdom of God, (Ps.89, ever Scripture saith of Abraham, both 12. Vulg.) we must, not in what they said happened and is ^ prophecy." Id. Serm. only,butalso in what they did, search for 2. de Tentat. Abr. §. 7. " We know that prophecy of the Christ who was to come, prophecy was given as in words, so in and His Church ; but in the rest of that deeds. Both in deeds and words is the nation ; collectively in those things, which resurrection preached beforehand." Ter- were done in them or to them by God. tull. de Resurr. Carnis, c. 28. God to he obeyed in human laics or ayainst Iheni. 39 is polluted by the perversity of lust. But those actions which are offences 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 violated at the lawless pleasure of any, whether native or foreigner. For any part, which harmo- nizeth not with its whole, is offensive. But when God com- mands a thing to be done, agaifist the customs or compact of any people, though it were never by theirTdone heretofore, it is to be done ; and if intermitted, it is to be restored ; and if never ordained, is now to be ordained. For lawful if it be for a king, in the state which he reigns over, to command that, which no one before him, nor he himself heretofore, had commanded, and 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 all His crea- tm'es ! For as among the powers in man's society, the greater authority is obeyed in preference to the lesser, so must God above all. >t 16. So in acts of \dolence, where there is a wish to , hurt, whether by reproach or injury ; and these either for revenge, as one enemy against another ; or for some profit A)elongihg to another, as the robber to the traveller ; or to avoid some evil, as towards one who is feared ; or through envy, as one less' fortunate to one more so, or one well thriven in any thing, to him whose being on a par with himself he feai's, or grieves at, or%r the mere pleasure at another's pain, as spectators of gladiators, or deriders and mockers of others. These be th^heads of iniquity, which spring from the lust of the flesh, i Jolm of the eye, or of rule, either singly, or two combined, or all to- ' ' gether; and so do men live ill against the three, and seven'', h S. Augustine (Quaest. in Exod. 1. ii. alludes to his division again, Serm. 8. 9. qu. 71.) mentions the two modes of divid- de x chordis, and S. 33 on this Psalm, ing the Ten Commandments, into three " To the first Commandment there be- and seven, or four and six, and gives long three strings, because God is Trine, what appear to hav(! been his own pri- To the other, i. e. the love of our neigh- vate reasons for preferring the first. Both bour, seven strings. These let us join to commonly existed in his day, but tlie those three, which belong to the love of Anglican nfode appears to have been the God, if we would on the psaltery of ten most usual. It occurs in Origen, Greg, strings sing a new song. If ye do it out Naz., Jerome, Anibrose, Chrys. S. Aug. of love, je sing a new song ; if ye do it 40 Self-will and self-love source of all sin. CONF. that psaltery often strings, Thy Ten Commandments, O God^ — : most high, and most sweet. But what foul oifences can 9, ' ' there be against Thee, who canst not be defiled ? or, what acts of violence against Thee, who canst not be harmed ? But Thou avengest what men commit against themselves, seeing also when they sin against Thee, they do wickedly Ps. 26, against their own soids, and iniquity gives itself the lie, by y j^ corrupting and perverting their nature, which Thou hast created and ordained, or by an immoderate use of things Rora. 1. allowed, or in burning in things unallowed, to that use which is against nature; or are found guilty, raging with heart and Acts 9, tong-ue against Thee, kicking against the pricks; or when, bursting 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. And these things are done when Thou art forsaken, O Fountain of Life, who art the only and true Creator and Governor of the Universe, and by a self-willed pride, any one false thing is selected there- from and loved''. So then by a humble devoutness we return to Thee ; and Thou cleansest us from our evil habits, and art Ps. 102, naerciful to their sins who confess, and hear est the groaning ^^* of the prisoner, and loosest us from the chains which we made for ourselves, if we lift not up against Thee the horns of an um'eal liberty, suffering the loss of all, through^^ovetousness of more, by loving more our own private good, than Thee, the Good of all. [IX.] 17. Amidst these offences of foulness and violence, and so many iniquities, are sins of men, who are on the whole mak- ing proficiency; which by those that judge rightly, are, after the rule of perfection, discommended, yet the persons commended, upon hope of future fruit, as in the green blade of gi'owing corn. And there are some, resembling offences of foulness or violence, which yet are no sins ; because they offend neither Thee, our Lord God, nor human society; when, namely, things fitting for a given period are obtained for the sei*vice from fear, but still do it, ye bear indeed man." the psaltery, but do not yet sing ; but if l» " Man's true honor is the image and ye do not even this, ye cast away the likeness of God, which is only retained psaltery itself. Better even to bear, than by reference to Him by whom it is im- cast away ; but again, better with joy to pressed. Men cleave then the more to sing, than to bear as burthensome. But to God, the less they love any thing of their ' sing a new song,' he must be a new own." Aug.de Irin. xii. 11. Who speak against Truth, fall into gross error. 41 of life, and we know not whether out of a kist of having; or when things are, for the sake of correction, by constituted authority punished, and we know not whether out of a hist of hurting. Many an action then which in men's sight is disajjproved, is by Thy testimony approved ; and many, by men praised, are (Thou being witness) condemned: because the shew of the action, and the mind of the doer, and the unknoA^Ti exigency of the period, severally vary. But when Thou on a sudden commandest an unwonted and 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', seeing that society of men is just which serves Tliee } But blessed are they who know Thy com- mands ! For all things were done by Thy servants " ; either to shew forth something needfid for the pre^nt, or to foreshew 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 in- sensibly and step by step drawn on to those follies, as to believe that a fig-tree wept when it was plucked', and the tree, its mother, shed milky tears } Wliich fig notwithstanding (plucked by some other's, not his own, guilt ') had some (Mani- choean) 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, miless they had been set at liberty by the teeth or belly of some " Elect'" saint ! And I, miserable, believed ^ •' Wliat then doth Faustus object to so that with the Lord should be the the spoiling of the Egyptians, not knowing counsel to command, with the servant whathesaith? In doing which Moses so the obedience to perform." Aug. c. far from sinned, that he had sinned had Faust. 1. xxii. c. 71. " We may not he not done it. For God had com- believe of Samson but that he was com- manded it, who knoweth not merely from manded by God to destroy liimself. But men's actions, but from their thoughts, when God commands, and intimates what each should suffer and by wliom." — clearly and explicitly that He does com- And after assigning a reason, "there may roand, who shall criminate obedience? have been other most hidden reasons, why who accuse the service of jncty ?"' I)e this people should have been enjoined Civ. Dei, 1. i. c. 26. this by God, but to Divine commands ^ The Patriarchs. Sec noteonc. 7.p.38. we must yield by obeying, not resist by • On the IManichasan errors here al- disputing. — I'his I stedfastly affirm, that luded to, see note A at the end ; $. iii. Moses might no other than God had said, a and b. 42 Aug's conversion foretold to his Mother in a dream. CONF. that more mercy was to be shewn to the fiTiits of the earth, — Ithan men, for whom they we/e 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 '. Ps. 144, [XI.] 19. And Thow sentest Thine hand from above , oxidi '^' 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 despisedst not her tears, when streaming down, they watered the ground"" under her eyes in every place where she prayed ; yea Thou 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 begmi to shrink from, abhorring and detesting the blas- phemies of my eiTor ? For she saw herself standing on a certain wooden rule, and a shining youth coming towards her, cheerful and smiling upon her, herself grieving, and overwhelmed with grief. But he having (in order to instruct, as is their wont, not to be instructed) enquired of her the causes of her grief and daily tears, and she answering 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 in 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 only ; and so for all, as if they were but one ! 20. Whence was this also, that when she had told me this virion, 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 ?' " 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, — that she was not peiplexed by the 1 See note A at the end ; §. iii. b. v. fin. ner of the Eastern ancients, who used to ™ He alludes here to that devout man- lie flat on their faces in prayer. Old Ed. Heretics often not to be argued uith^ hut prayed for. 43 plausibility of my false interpretation, and so quickly saw what was to be seen, and which I certainly had not perceived, before she spake, — even then moved me more than the dream itself, by wlvLch a joy to the -holy woman, to be fulfilled so long after, was, for the consolation of her present anguish, so long before foresignified. For almost nine years passed, in which I wallowed in the mire of that deep pit, and the dark- ness of falsehood, often assaying to rise, but dashed dowii the more giievously. All which time that chaste, godly, and sober widow, (such as Thou lovest,) now more cheered with hope, yet no whit relaxing in her weeping and mourning, ceased not at all hom*s of her devotions to bewail my case unto Thee. And hex prayers entered into Thy presence ; and yet Thou Ps. 88, sufferest me to be yet involved and reinvolved in that dark- ' ness. [XTL] 21. Thou gavest her meantime another answer, ^vhich I call «"to mind ; for much I pass by, hasting to those things which more press me to confess unto Thee, and much I do hot remember. 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. Whom when this woman had entreated to vouchsafe to converse with me, refute my eiTors, unteach me ill things, 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 afterwards per- ceived. For he answered, that I was yet unteachable, being puffed up with the novelty of that heresy, and had already pei'plexed divers unskilful persons with captious questions", as she had told him ; " but let him alone a while," (saith he,) " only pray God for him, he will of himself by reading find what that error is, and how great its impiety." At the " " Two things principally, which rea- the great evil of obstinacy. And having (.lily captivate that unguarded age, over- commenced this sort of disputing, after came me ; one, intimacy, creeping round I had heard them, whatever ability I at- nie with a sort of semblance of good, tained, either by my own powers, (whatever entwining itself, like a twisted chain, they were,) or by other reading, I readily manifoldly round the neck. The other, ascribed to them alone. So from their that I had frequently gained a pernicious discourses there was daily excited in me victory in disputing with unskilful Chris- ardent love for contests, and from the tians, who yet would strive eagerly to result of the contests, a love for them, defend their faith as best they might. Thus it happened, that whatever they And this success being very frequent, the said, I strangely assented to as true, not excitement of youth gained ground, and because I knew it, but because 1 wished recklessly pressed on its energies towards it to be true. And so, although step by . 44 Unceasing prayer's and tears never fail. CONF. same time he told her, how himself, when a Uttle one, had — by his seduced mother been consigned over to the Manichees, and had not only read, but frequently copied out almost all, their books, and had (without any argument or proof from any one) seen how much that sect was to be avoided ; and had avoided it. Which when he had said, and she would not be satisfied, but urged him more, with intreaties and many tears, that he would see me, and discourse with me ; he, a little displeased at her importunity, saith, " Go thy ways, and God bless Thee, for it is not possible that the son of these tears should perish." Which answer she took (as she often mentioned in her conversations with me) as if it had somided from heaven. step, and cautiously, yet long did I follow iii. b. v. fin.) Aug. de duab. Anim. c. men, who preferred a shining straw to a Manich. c. 9. living soul." (See note A at the end; THE FOURTH BOOK. Aug.'s life from nineteen to eight and twenty ; himself a Manichaean, and seducing 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 baptized when in a swoon ; reflections on grief, on real and unreal friendship, and love of fame; writes on " the fair and fit," yet cannot rightly, though God had given him great talents, since he entertained wrong notions of God; and so even his knowledge he applied ill. [I.] 1. For this space of nine years then (from my nine- teenth year, to my eight and twentieth) we Uved seduced and seducing, deceived and deceiving, in divers kists ; openly, by sciences which they call liberal; secretly, with a false named religion ; here proud, there superstitious, every where vain ! Here, himting after the emptiness of popular praise, down even to theatrical applauses, and poetic prizes, and strifes for grassy garlands, and the follies of shows, and the intemperance of desires. There, desiring to be cleansed from these defilements, by carrying 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 mth my friends, deceived by me, and with. me. Let the aiTogant mock me, and such as have not been, to their soul's health, 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 forepassed time, and to offer unto Thee the sacrifice of thankfigiviiKj. For what Ps. 49, am I to myself without Thee, but a guide to mine o^^^l down- ^^' 'fall ^ } or what am I even at the best, but an infant sucking the milk Thou givest, and feeding upon Thee, the food that John 6, perisheth not? But what sort of man is any man, seeing he^^* ^ See note A at the end ; $. iii. a. without puperintendence, belongs to God ** " To be happy, by his own power, only." Aug. de Gen. c. INIanich. ii. 5. 46 Sin restrained, hut without fixed principle. CONF. is but a man? Let now the strong and the mighty laugh £ii^ at us, but let us poor and needy confess unto Thee. Ps. 73, j-jj J 2. In those years I taught rhetoric, and, overcome by cupidity, made sale of a loquacity to overcome by. Yet I preferred (Lord, Thou knowest) honest scholars, (as they are accoimted,) and these I, without artifice, taught artifices, not to be practised against the life of the guiltless, though some- times for the life of the guilty. And Thou, O God, from afar Is. 42, perceivedst me stumbling in that slippery course, and amid 12^20.* much smoke sending out some sparks of faithfulness, which I Ps. 4, 2. shewed in that my guidance of such as loved vanity, and sought after leasing, myself their companion. In those years I had one, — not in thaj^which is called lawful marriage, but whom I had found out in a wayward passion, void of imder- standing; yet but one^ remaining faithful even to her; in whom I in my own case 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 bom against their parents' will, although, once born, they 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 mys^teries, answered, " Though the garland were of impe- rishable gold, I would not suffer a fly to be killed to gain me it." For he was to kill some living creatures in his sacrifices, and by those honours to invite the devils to favour me. But this ill also I rejected, not out of a pure love'^ for Thee, O <^ " He alone is truly pure, who wait- loveth ; if it love aught beside, it is no eth on God, and keepeth himself to Him purejove. You depart from the immortal alone." Aug.de vita beata, §.18. "Whoso flame, you will be chilled, corrupted, seeketh God, is pure, because the soul Do not depart ; it will be thy corruption, hath in God her legitimate Hu>band. will be fornication in thee." Aug. in Ps. Whosoever seeketh of God any thing 72. \^orse than death. But in me there had arise'n some miexplained feeling, too contrary to this, for at once I loathed exceedingly ^to live, sfiid feared to die. I sup- pose, the more I loved him, the more did I hate, and fear (as a most cruel enemy) death, which had bereaved me Ij (I Were any to say, I had rather to be. Give thanks then for that thou die than be unhappy, Pshould answer, art, which thou dost will, that so what 'Thou speakest false.' For now thou thou art against thy will may be removed art unhappy, and wiliest not to die, for no from thee. For willingly thou art, but other cause than to be ; so then, though unwillingly art unhappy." Aug. de Lib. you will not to be unhappy, you do will Arb. iii. $. 10. E 2 52 Misery increased hy distraction. CONF. of him : and I imagined it would speedily make an end of ^liXl 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 remember it, O my Hope, who cleansest me from the impurity of such affections, directing Ps. 25, mine eyes towards Tliee, and plucking my feet out of the snare. For I wondered that others, subject to death, did live, since he whom I loved, as if he shoidd never die, 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 soid :" for I felt that my soul and his soul were " one soul in two bodies '' :" and therefore was my life a hoiTor to me, because I would not live halved. And therefore per- chance * I feared to die, lest he whom I had much loved, should die wholly. [VII.] 12. O madness, which knowest not how to love men, like men ! O foolish man that I then was, enduring impatiently^ the lot of man ! I fretted then, sighed, wept, was distracted ; had neither rest nor counsel. For I bore about a shattered and bleeding soul, impatient of being borne by me, yet where to repose it, I found not. Not in calm groves, not in games and music, nor in fragrant sj)ots, nor in cm-ious banqjUettings, nor in the pleasures of the bed and the couch ; nor (finally) in books or poesy, found it repose. All things looked ghastly, yea, the very light ; whatsoever was not what he was, was revolting and hateful, except groaning and tears. For in those alone found I a little refreshment. But when my soul was withdrawn fi-om them, 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 neither could nor would ; the more, since, when I thoughf of Thee, Thou wert not to me any solid or substantial thing. For Thou wert not Thyself, but a mere phantom ^, and my error was my God. If I offered to discharge my load thereon, that it might rest, it glided through the void, and came rushing down ^ Hor. Carm. L. i. od. 3. chance T feared," &c. which seems to me <• Ovid. Trist. 1, iv. Eleg. iv. 72. rather an empty declamation than a grave ^ In confessing the misery of my mind confession, although this folly in it may at the death of my friend, saying, that be somewhat tempered by the addition of our soul was, as it were, made out of ' perchance.' Aug. Retract. 1. ii. c. 6. two, one, I said, " and therefore per- ' See Note A at the end; $. i. a. TJie world cures grief hy sources of fresh gruf. 53 again on me ; and I had remained to myself a hapless spot, where I could neither be, nor be from thence. For whither should my heart flee from my heart ? Whither should I flee from myself? Whither not follow myself? And yet I fled out of my country ; for so should mine eyes less look for him, where they were not wont to see him. And thus from Y Thagaste, I came to Carthage. r [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 imagin- ations, and other remembrances ; and little by little patched me up again with my old kind of delights, unto which that my son'ow gave way. And yet there succeeded, not indeed other griefs, yet the causes of other griefs ^. For whence had that fonner gi'ief so easily reached my very inmost soul, but that I had pom-ed out my soul upon the dust, in loving one that must die, as if he would never die? For what restored and re- freshed me chiefly, was the solaces of other friends, with whom I did love, what instead of Thee I loved : and this w^as a great fable, and protracted lie, by whose adulterous stimulus, our soul, which lay itching in our ears, was being defiled. But that fable would not cUe to me, so oft as any of my friends died. There were other things which in them did more take my mind; to talk and jest together, to do kind oflices by tuiiis ; to read together honied books ; to play the fool or be earnest together ; to dissent at times without discontent, as a man might with his own self; and even with the seldomness of these dissentings, to season our more frequent consentings ; sometimes to teach, and sometimes learn ; 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 loved and were loved again, by the countenance, the tongue, the eyes, and a thousand pleasing gestiu'es, were so much fuel to melt our souls together, and out of many make but one. [IX.] 14. This is it that is loved in friends ; and so loved, that a man's conscience condemns itself, if he love not him that loves him again, or love not again him that loves him, look- 8 See above, i. 1. below c. 10. 12. $. 18. vi. 16. 54 Amid the changes of the creature, rest only in the Creator. CONF. ing for nothing from his person, but indications of his love. Hence that mourning, if one die, and darkenings of soitows, that steeping of the heart in tears, all sweetness turned to bitterness ; and upon the loss of life of the dying, the death of the living. Blessed whoso loveth Thee, and his friend in Thee, and his enemy for Thee. For he alone loses none dear to him, to whom all are dear in Him Who cannot be Gen. 2, lost. And who is this but our God, the God that made 24 Jer. 23, heaven and earth, and filleth them, because by iiUing them 24. He created them''.? Thee none loseth, but who leaveth. And who leaveth Thee, whither goeth or whither fleeth he, but from Thee well -pleased, to Thee displeased ? For where doth Ps. 119, he not find Thy law in his own punishment? And TJty law John 14,**' truth, and truth Thou. 6- [X.] 15. Turn, us O God of Hosts, shew us Thy counte- Ps. 80, * ^ 19. nance, and ive shall be whole. For whithersoever the soul of man turns itself, unless towards Thee, it is rivetted upon soitows', yea though ijt is rivetted on things beautiful. And yet they, out of Thee, and out of the soul, were not, unless they were from Thee. They rise, and set; and by rising, they begin as it were to be ; they grow, that they may be perfected ; and perfected, they wax old and wither; and all grow not old, but all wither. So then when they rise and tend to be, the more quickly they grow that they may be, so much the more they haste not to be. This is the law of them. Thus much hast Thou allotted them, because they are portions of things, which exist not all at once, but by passing away and succeeding, they together complete that universe, whereof they are por- tions. And even thus is our speech completed by signs giving forth a sound : but this again is not perfected 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 with the glue of love, through the senses of the body. For they go whither they were to go, that they might not be ; and they rend her with pestilent longings, because she longs to be, yet loves to repose in what she loves ''. But in these things is no place of repose; they '> See above i. 2 and 3. ^ In this life men, with much toil, ' See above $. 13. seek rest and freedom from care, but God invites us to Him, by the changes around us. 55 abide not, they flee; and who can follow them with the senses of the flesh? yea, who can grasp them, when they are hard by? For the sense of the flesh is slow, because it is the sense of the flesh; and thereby is it bounded. It sufficeth for that 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 arc created, they hear their decree, " hence and hitherto." [XI.] 16. Be not foolish, O my soul, nor b(^come deaf in the ear of thine heart with the tumult of thy folly. Hearken thou too. The Word Itself calleth thee to return : and there is the place of rest imperturbable, where love is not forsaken, if itself forsaketh not. Behold, these things pass away, that others may re{)lace them, and so this lower universe be completed by all his pai'ts. But do I depart any whither ? saith the Word of God. There fix thy dwelling, trust there whatsoever thou hast thence, O my soul, at least now thou art tired out with vanities. Entrust Truth, whatsoever thou hast from the Truth, and thou slialt lose nothing ; and thy decay shall bloom again, and all tJiy diseases he healed, and Ps. 103, thy mortal pai'ts be re-formed and renewed, and boimd aroimd " thee : nor shall they lay thee whither themselves descend ; but they shall stand fast with thee, and abide for ever before God, ivho ahideth and standeth fast for ever. i Pet. i, 23 17. "Why then be perverted and follow thy flesh ? Be it con- verted and follow thee. Whatever by her thou hast sense of, is in part ; and the whole, whereof these are parts, thou knowest not; and yet they delight thee. But had the sense of thy flesh a capacity for comprehending the whole, and not itself also, for thy punishment, been justly restricted to a part of the whole, thou wouldest, that whatsoever existeth at this present, should pass away, that so the whole might better please thee'. For what we speak also, by the same sense of the flesh thou hearest ; yet wouldest not thou have the syllables stay, but fly away, that others may come, and thou hear the whole ". And through peiTcrse longings tliey fiml it Aug. de Catechiz. Rud. $. 14. not. They wish to find rest in things ' See below on 1. xiii. c. 18. which rest and abide not, and these, since '" For the beauty olthe whole discourse they are withdrawn by time and pass is not from the single letters, or syllables, away, harass them with fears and sor- but from the whole. Aug. de Gen. c rows, and will not let them be at rest. Manich. i. 21. 56 All thmgs are in God and so to be loved in God. CONF. ^j^^^ver, when any one thing is made up of many, all of which ~ — — do not (exist together, all collectively would please more than they do severally, could all be perceived collectively. But far better than these, is He who made all ; and He is our God, nor doth He pass away, for neither doth aught succeed Him. [XII.] 18. If bodies please thee, praise God on occasion of them, and turn back thy love upon their Maker™; lest in these things which please thee, thou displease. If souls please thee, be they loved in God : for they too are mutable, but in Him are they firmly stablished ; else would they pass, and pass away. In Him then be they beloved ; and cany unto Him along with thee what souls thou canst, and say to them, " Him let us love, Him let us love : He macje these, nor is He far oif. For He did not make them, and so depart, but they are of Him, and in Him ". See there He is, where tiTith is loved. He is within the very heart, yet hath the heart ^ strayed from Him. Go hack into your hearf*, 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 ? Whither go ye } The good that you love is from Him**; but it is good and pleasanf through *" Wherever you turn, He speaketh their hearts, but because thou wert strayed, to thee by traces, which He has impressed as a vagabond, from thy own heart, so upon His works, and by the very forms of He, who is every where, laid hold on outward things recalls thee, when sink- thee, and recalled thee to thine own ing down to things outward. — Woe to inward self. What then does the written them who leave Thee as their guide, and law cry aloud to such as have forsaken ' go astray in the traces of Thee, who, for the law written in their hearts? " return Thee, love these intimations of Thee, and to your hearts, ye transgressors." — What forget what Thou intimatest ! O Wisdom, then thou wouldest not have done to 'J'hou most sweet light of the cleansed thee, do not to another. Thou decidest mind; for Thou ceasest not to intimate it to be evil, in that thou wouldest not to us what and how great Thou art, and endure it, and the inward law, wiitten in these intimations of Thee is the universal thy very heart, forces thee to know this, beauty of creation. Aug. de lib. arb. ii. Thou didst it, and men groaned at thy 16. hands ; how art thou forced to " go " This Good is not placed far from back into thy own heart," when thou every one of us ; for in Him we live and endurest it at the hands of others. Aug. move and are. But by love must we in Ps. 57. $. 1. hold and cleave to Him, that we may P Shame we, since other things are enjoy Him present with us, from whom only loved, as being good, by cleaving we are, who, were He absent, we could to them to cease to love Him, through not even be. Aug. de Trin. viii. §. 5, 6. whom they are good. c. 3. Aug.de Trin. ° Because men seeking things without, viii. 3. become strange even to themselves, the 1 Men revolt not to evil things but in written law also was given them ; not an evil way, i. e. not to evil natures, but because it was not already written in therefore in an evil way, because against The Son of God humbled, that we being Mimbled, might rise. 57 reference to Him, and justly shall it be embittered', because unjustly is any thing loved which is from Him, if He be forsaken for it. To what end then would ye still and still walk these difficult and toilsome ways? There is no rest, where ye seek it. Seek what ye seek ; but it is not there where ye seek. Ye seek a blessed life in the land of death ; it is not there. For how should there be a blessed life, where life itself is not ?*' 19. " But our true Life came down hither, and bore our death, and slew him, out of the abmidance of His own life : and He thundered, calling aloud to us to return hence to Him into that secret place, whence He came forth to us, first into the Virgin's womb, wherein He espoused the human creation, our mortal flesh, that it might not be for ever mortal, and thence like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, rejoic- Ps. 19, ing as a giant to run his course. For He lingered not, but ^* ran, calling aloud by words, deeds, death, life, descent, ascen- sion ; crying aloud to us to return unto Him. And He departed from our eyes, that we might return into our heart, and there find Him. For He departed, and lo. He is here. He would not be long with us, yet left us not ; for He departed thither, whence He never parted, because the world John i, was made by Him. And in this u'orld He was, and into this ' world He came to save sinners, unto whom my soul confesseth, i, 15. aiid He healeth it, for it hath sinned against Him. O ye sons Ps. 41, of men, how long so sloiv of heart ? Even now, after the descent ^' ^f Life to you, will ye not ascend and live ? But whither \'uig! ascend ye, when ye are on high, and set your moutJx against Ps. 73, the heavens? Descend, that ye may ascend', and ascend to^' the natural order, they go from Him, deserting that whereto the mind should who is the Highest, to things which in a cleave as to its first principle, would lesser degree are. Aug. de Civ. Dei, become and be, as it were, a first principle xii. 8. to itself. — There is then, strange to say, •■ What so unjust as that good should something in humility, which raises the be with him who deserteth what is good ? heart upwards, and something in elation, Nor can it be. But sometimes the evil which sinks it downwards A reverent of the loss of the higher good is not felt, humility makes one subject to him who is through the possession of the lower good, higher; but nothing is higher than God; which men love. But it is the law of and so humility, which makes subject to Divine justice, that whoso hath with his God, exalts. But a faulty elation, in good-will lost what he ought to love, that it rejects this subjection, sinks down shall with sorrow lose what he hath from Him, than whom nothing is higher, loved. Aug. de Gen. ad litt. viii. 14. and thereby becomes lower. Aug. de * It is a perverted loftiness, when men Civ. Dei, xiv. 13. 58 Aug. appreciates the heautifiil, though not understanding God. CONF. God. For ye have fallen, by ascending against Him'." Tell ^' ^^' them this, that they may weep in the valley of tears, and so Q^ ' carry them up with thee, unto God ; because out of His Spirit thou speakest thus unto them, if thou speakest, burning with the fire of chaiity. [XIII.] 20. These things I then knew not, and I loved these lower beauties, and I was sinking to the very depths, and to my friends I said, " do we love any thing but the beau- tiful ? AVhat then is the beautiful ? and what is beauty ? What is it that attracts and wins us to the things we love ? for unless there were in them a grace and beauty, they could by no means draw us unto them." And I marked and per- ceived that in bodies themselves, there was a beauty, from their forming a sort of whole, and again, another from 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, O Lord, for it is gone from me ; for I have them not, but they are strayed fi'om 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 his I had heard, which pleased me .? But more did he please me, for that 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 one most learned in things pertaining unto philosophy. One is com- mended, and, unseen, he is loved : doth this love enter the heart of the hearer from the mouth of the commender ? Not so. But by one who loveth is another kindled. For hence he is loved, who is connnended, when the commender is believed to extol him with an unfeigned heart ; that is, wlien one that loves him, praises him. ^ By the lowliness of repentance the the whole mortal nature of man was soul recovers her high estate. Aug. de swelled with pride — Lest then men lib. Arb. iii. 5. He made a way for us should disdain to follow a humble man, through humility ; because through pride God humbled Himself; that even the we had departed from God, we could pride of the human race might not dis- not return but through humility, and one dain to follow the track of God. Aug. in to take as a pattern we had not. For Ts. 33. Enarr. 1. §.4. 4 Man a riddle to himself- — sees not the truth just before him. 59 22. For so did I then love men, upon the judgment of men, not thine, O my God, in Whom no man is deceived. But yet why not for qualities, like those of a famous charioteer, or fighter with beasts in the theatre, known tar and wide by a vulgar popularity, but far otherwise, and earnestly, and so as I would be myself commended? For I would not be com- mended 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. Where now 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, if I did not hate, T should not spurn and cast from myself? For it holds not, that as a good horse is loved by him, who would not, though he might, be that horse, therefore the same may be said of an actor, who shares our nature. Do I then love in a man, what I hate to be, who am a man ? Man himself is a great deep, whose very hairs Thou numherest, O Lord, Mat. 10, and they fall not to the ground icithout 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 swelling pride, and tvas tossed ahout with every ivind, but yet was steered byEph.4, Thee, though very secretly. And whence do I know, and ^' whence do I confidently confess unto Thee, that I had loved him more for the love of his commenders, than for the very things for which he was -commended? Because, had he been unpraised, and these selfsame men had dispraised him, and with dispraise and contempt told fhe very same things of him, I had never been so kindled and excited to love him. And yet th>e things had not been other, nor he himself other ; but only tlje feelings of the relators. See where the impotent soul lies along, that is not yet stayed up by the solichty of truth ! Just as the gales of tongues blow from the breast of the opinionative, so is it earned this way and that, driven forward and backward, and the light is overclouded to it, and the truth unseen. And lo, it is before us. And it was to me a great matter, that my discourse and labours should be known to that man: which should he approve, I were the more kindled; but if he disapproved, my empty heart, void of 60 One error hinders from seeing other truth, CONF.Thy solidity, had been wounded. And yet the " fair and ^' ^^ • fit," whereon I wrote to him, I dwelt on with pleasure, and surv^eyed it, and admu*ed it, though none joined therein. [XV.] 24. But I saw not yet, whereon this weighty matter Ps I06,ttimed in Thy wisdom, O Thou Omnipotent, who only doest ^' loonders; and my mind ranged through corporeal forms; and "fair," I defined and distinguished what is so in itself, and "fit," whose beauty is 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 substance to lineaments, and colours, 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 to be some un- ; known substance of irrational life, and the nature of the chief I 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 a Duad ; — anger, in deeds of violence, and in flagitiousness, lust; not knowing whereof I spake. For I had not kno\^Ti or learned, that neither was I evil a substance, nor our soul that chief and unchangeable goody. 25. For as deeds of violence arise, if that emotion of the soul be corrupted, whence "^ ehement action springs, stining itself insolently and unrulily; and lusts, when that affection of the soul is ungovemed, whereby carnal pleasures are drunk in, so do errors and false opinions defile the conversation, " See Note A at the end ; §. i. b. implying strength may be looked on as ^ Or " an unintelligent soul ;" very the male, " lust'' was, in mythology, re- good MSS. reading " sensu," the majority, presented as female ; if we take " sensu," it appears, " sexu ;" if we read " sexu," it will express the living, but unintelli- the absolute unity of the first principle, gent, soul of the world, in the JManicha^an, or IMonad, may be insisted upon, and as a Pantheistic, system. in the inferior principle, divided into ? See Note A at the end ; $. ii. a. " violence" and " lust", " violence" as for Ood repels proud, though earnest, search. 61 if the reasonable soiil itself be con'upted; 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 thaf nature of truth. For Thou sJiali light my candle, Ops. 18, Lord my God, Thou shalt enlighten my darkness: and of Thy'^^' fulness have we all received, for TJiou art the true light that le. 9. ' lighteth every man that cometh into 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 resistest the 2>roud. i Pet. 5, But what prouder, than for me with a strange madness to^' ^*"™* maintain myself to be that by natm-e^ 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. There- fore J was repelled by Thee, and Thou resistedst my vain stifF- neckedness, and I imagined corporeal forms, and — myself flesh, I accused flesh'; and, a wind that passeth away, I returned Ps.iQ, 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 myself, I stood exiled,) I was wont, prating and foolishly, to ask them, " Why then doth the soul err which God created ?" But I would not bp asked, " Why then doth God eiT ?" And I maintained, that Thy unchangeable substance did en* upon constraint, rather than confess that my changeable substance had gone astray voluntarily, and now, in punishment, lay in error. 27. I was then some six or seven and twenty years old when I wrote those volumes ; revolving within me corporeal fictions, buzzing in the ears of my heart, which I tm-ned, O sweet truth, to thy inward melody, meditating on the ^' fair and fit," and longing to stand and hearken to Tlicc, and to rejoice John 3, greatly at the' Bridegroom^ s voice, but could not; for by the^^' voices of mine own errors, I was humed abroad, and through the weight of my own pride, I was sinking into the lowest pit. y See Note A at the end; §. ii. a. 62 Great qiiickness, when relied upon, a hindrance. CONF. For Thou didst not 7nake me to hear jo]f and gladness, nor — — 1 did the hones exitlt which were not yet humhled. < Ps 51 J . ^. ' ' [XVI.] 28. And what did it profit me, that scarce twenty years old, a book of Aristotle, which they call the ten Pi^edica- ments, falling into my hands, (on whose very name I hung, as on something great and divine, so often as 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 ^ble tutors, not only orally explaining it, but drawing 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 hi« relation- ship,' whose brother he is ; or where placed : or when bom ; 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 imder these nine Predicaments^, of which I have given some specimens, or under that chief Predi- cament of Substance. 29. Wh^t did all this fm*ther me, seeing it even hindered me ? when, imagining whatever was, was comprehended under those ten Predicaments, T essayed in such wise to understand, my G od. Thy wonderful and unchangeable 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 greatness and beauty ; but a body is not great or fair in that it is a body, seeing that, though it were less great or fair, it should not- withstanding be a body. But it was falsehood which of Thee I conceived, not truth ; fictions of my misery, not the realities of Thy Blessedness. For Thou hadst commanded, and it was done in me, that the eartJt should bring forth briars and thorns to me, and that in the sweat of my brows 1 should eat my bread. 30. And what did it profit me, that all the books I could * All the relations of things were these with that wherein they might be comprised by Aristotle under nine heads; found, or " substance," make up the ten quantity, quality, relation, action, passion, categories or predicaments, where, when, situation, clothing; and Piety, not knowledge or talents, enlightens. 63 procure of the so-called liberal arts, I, the vile slave of vile affections, retvd by myself, and understood ? And I delighted in them, but knew not whence came all, that therein was true or certain. For I had my back to the light, and my face to the things enlightened ; wherice my face, with which I discerned the things enlightened, itself was not enlightened. Whatever was wiitten, either on rhetoric, or logic, geometry, music, and arithmetic, by myself without much difhculty'or any instnictor, I understood. Thou knowest, O Lord my God ; because both» quickness of understanding, and acuteness in discerning, is Thy gift : yet did I not thence sacrifice to Thee. So then it served not to my use, but rather to my perdition, since I went about to get so good di portion of my substance into my Luke 15. ow^i keeping ; and I kept not my strength for Thee, but ^^' wandered from Thee into a far country, to spend it upon Vulg. harlotries. ' For what profited me good abilities, not em- ployed to good ii^es ? For I felt not that those arts were attained with great difficulty, even by the studious and ta- lented, until I attempted to explain them to such ; when he most excelled in them, who followed me not altogether slowly. 31. But what did this further me, imagining that Thou, O Lord God, the Truth, wert a vast and bright body, and I a fragment of that body" ? Perverseness too great ! But such was I. Nor do I blush, O my God, to confess to Thee Tluj mercies towards me, and to call upon Thee, who blushed not then to profess to men my blasphemies, and to bark against Thee. What profited tne then my nimble wit in those sciences and all those most knotty volumes, unravelled by me, without aid from human instruction ; seeing I erred so foully, and with such sacrilegious shamefulness, in the doctrine of piety ? Or what hindi-ance was a far slower wit to Thy little ones, since they departed not far from Thee, that in the nest of Thy Church they might securely be fledged, and nourish the wings of charity, by the food of a sound faith. O Lord our God, under the shadow of Thy wings let us hope ; protect us, and caiTy us. Thou wilt carry us both when little, and even to hoar hairs wilt Thou carry us ; for our firmness, is. 46, when it is Thou, then is it firmness ; l)ut when our own, ^*- it is infirmity. Our good ever lives with Thee ; from which 3 See Note A at the end ; §. i. a. ii. a. 64 Ood unc?ui7igeable, there/ore man may return to Him. CONF. when we turn away, we are turned aside. Let us now, O ^' ^^^' Lord, return, that we may not be overturned, because with Thee our good lives without any decay, which good art Thou ; nor need we fear, lest there be no place whither to return, be- cause we fell from it : for through our absence, our mansion fell not— Thy eternity. THE FIFTH BOOK. S. Aug.'s twenty-ninth year. Faustus, a snare of Satan to many, made an instrument of deliverance to S. Aug., by shewing the ignorance of the Manichees on those things, wherein they professed to have divine knowledge. Aug. gives up all thought of going further among the Manichees: is guided to Rome and Milan, where he hears S. Ambrose, leaves the Manichees, and becomes again a Catechumen in the Church Catholic. [I.] 1 . Accept the sacrifice of my confessions from the ministry of my tongue, which Thon hast fonned and stiiTed up to con- fess unto Thy name. Heal Thou all my hones, and let them Ps. 35, say, O Lord, who is like unto Thee? For he who confesses ~^* to Thee, doth not teach Thee what takes place within him ; seeing a closed heart closes not out Thy eye, nor can man's hard-heartedness thrust back Thy hand : for Thou dissolvest it at Thy will in pity or in vengeance, and nothing can hide Ps. 19, itself from Thy heat. But let my 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 ceaseth not, nor is silent in Thy praises ; neither the spirit of man with voice directed unto Thee, nor creation animate or inanimate, by the voice of those who meditate thereon : that so our souls may from their weariness arise towards Thee, leaning* on those things which Thou hast created, and passing on to Thyself, who madest them wonderfully ; and there is refreshment and true strength. [II.] 2. Let the restless, the godless, depart and flee from Thee; yet Thou seest them, and dividest the darkness. And « " On whatever place a man have i. e. the eyes, ears, and other penses of fallen, thereon he must lean, that he may the body. These sensible or corporeal rise. Therefore we must lean on those forms children must of necessity cling to very sensible forms, whereby we are held and love ; the young almost of necessity ; back, that we may know those, which thenceforward as nge goes on, it is no sense tells us not of. Sensible I call, longer necessary.' Aug. de vera Rclig. what can be perceived through the senses, c. 24. 66 llie wicked, though they obey not, must serve God. CONF. behold, the universe with them is fair, though they are fovil^ ^- ^' And how have they injured Thee ' ? or how have they disgraced'* Thy government, which, from the heaven to this lowest earth, Ps. 139, is just and perfect ? For whither fled they, when they fled '• from Thy presence? Or where dost not Thou find them? Gen. 16, But they fled, that they might not see Thee seeing them, Jvjgj and, blmded, might stumble against Thee; (because TJwufor- ^1, 25. sakest nothing Thou hast made ;) that the unjust, I say, might old vers. ^^^^^^^^^ upon Thee, and justly be hurt; withdra^\dng them- selves from Thy gentleness, and stumbling at Tliy uprightness, and falling upon their own ruggedness. Ignorant, in truth, that Thou art every where, \Vliom no place encomjDasseth ! and Thou Ps. 73, alone art near, even to those that remove far from Tliee. Let ^^' them then be turned, and seek Thee ; because not as they have forsaken their Creator, hast Thou forsaken Thy creation. Let them be turned and seek Thee ; and behold. Thou art there in their heart, in the heart of those that confess to Thee, and cast themselves upon Thee, and weep in Thy bosom, after all their rugged ways. Then dost Thou gently wipe away their tears, and they weep the more, and joy in weeping; even for that 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? And Thou wert before me, but I had gone away from Thee ; nor did I find myself, how much less Thee ! [III.] 3. I would lay open before my God that nine and twentieth year of mine age. There had then come to Car- thage, a certain Bishop of the Manichees, Faustus^ by name, b " As a picture, wherein a black co- and order of the universe should in any louring occurs in its proper place, so is the way be deformed, since to their wills of universe beautiful, if any could survey it, whatever sort, though evil, certain fitting notwithstanding the presence of sinners, bounds are assigned to their power, and although, taken by themselves, their proper the due measure to their deservings, so deformity makes them hideous." Aug.de that even with them, thus placed under Civ. Dei, xi. 23. the fitting and due order, the universe is <= " Persons are in Scripture called the fair." Aug. de Gen. ad Lit. 1. xi, c 21. enemies of God, who, not by nature but «= " Faustus, of African origin, born at by sins, oppose His government ; able to Milevis, of a sweet discourse and clever injure, not Him, but, themselves. For wit." Aug. c. Faust. 1, i. init. S.Aug, they are enemies through the will to speaks again of his talent, (whence Aug. resist, not through the power to hurt." the more suspected thathesaw through the ib. xii. 3. fallacy of his own arguments,) ib. xvi. J " Nor by their wickedness do they 2(i. and (whereas he claimed exclu- efFect that under the rule, power, and sively for the INIanichees the Evangelical wisdom of the All-ruling God, the beauty blessings on poverty and self-denial,) Discoveries of science do not lead to God. 07 a great snare of the Devil, and many were entangled by him through that hu'e of his smooth language: which though I did commend, yet could I 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, set before me to feed upon. Fame had before bespoken him most knowing in all valuable learning, •and exquisitely skilled in the liberal sciences. And since I had read and well remembered much of the philosophers, I 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 judpne/itwhd. of this loiver world, the Lord of it they could hy no means ^^' ^' find out. For Thou art great, O Lord, and hast respect ujitoPs. 138, the humble, hut the proud Thou beholdest afar off. Nor dost ' thou draw near, but to the contrite in heart, nor ai't found by Ps. 34, the proud, no, not though by cmious skill they could number ^^' the stars and the sand, and measure the starry heavens, and track the courses of the planets. 4. For with their understanding and wit, which Thou bestowedst on them, they search out these things ; and much have they found out; and foretold, many years before, eclipses of those luminaries, the sun and moon, — what day and rhour, and how many digits, — nor did their calcidation fail ; and it came to pass as they ibretold ; 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 smi is to be eclipsed, and so it shall be, as it is foreshewed. 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 failui'e of the sun's light, which shall be, so long before, but see not their own, which is. For they search not religiously whence they have the ^\'it, wherewith they his luxury, as being notorious to all the as a Manichee, banished to an island by " Hearers" of the iSIanichees, especially the proconsul, the (Christians however at Rome, (ib, v. 7.) while he despised the interceding for him. (ib. c. 8.) poverty of his parents, (ib. c. 5.) He was, f2 68 Self mil fit he mcrijiced, ihat we may know God. CONF. search out this. And findmg that Thou madest them, they ^- ^ • give not themselves up to Thee, to preserve what Thou madest, nor sacrifice to Thee, what they have made themselves; nor slay their own soaring imaginations, as fowls of the air^ , nor Ps. 8,7. their own diving curiosities, (wherewith, like the Jishes of the ^* sea, they wander over the unknown paths of the abyss,) nor Deut. 4, their own luxuriousness, as beasts of the field, that Thou, ^"^* Lord, a consuming fire, mayest bum up those dead cares of theirs, and re-create themselves immortally. Joli.1,3. 5. But they knew not the way. Thy Word, by Whom Thou madest these things which they number, and themselves who number, and the sense whereby they perceive what they num- ber, and the understanding, out of which they number; or ]*s. 147, that of Thy wisdom there is no number. But the Only ^■p , Begotten is Himself made unto us wisdom, and righteous- 30. ness, and sa notification, and was numbered among us, and M3lx.\7, ])aid tribute unto Ccesar. They knew not this Way^ whereby '^^' to descend to Him from themselves, and by Him ascend unto Is. 14, Him. They knew not this way, and deemed themselves ex- l?ev 12 ^^^^ amongst the stars and shining; and behold, they /^// ^' upon the earth, and their foolish Iteart was darkened. They o\ ■ 'discourse many things tiidy concerning the creature; but Truth, Artificer of the creature, they seek not piously, and therefore find Him not; or if they find Him, knowing Him to be lb. God, they glorify Him not as God, neither are thankful, but become rain in their imaginations, and profess themselves to he ivise, 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 Yer. 23. ch(f /tying the glory of the uncorruptible God, into an image ^" The beasts of the field are most aptly these three sorts of sins, i. e. pleasure of understood of men rejoicing in carnal the flesh and pride and curiosity, include pleasures, who mount up to nothing ar- all sins." Aug. ad loc. vid. sup. iii. 8. inf. duous, nothing laborious. The bird^ of x. 30 sqq. the air, the proud, of whom it is said, % " He is the home whither we go, He " they have set their face in the heaven." the way whereby we go ; go we by Him Behold again the fishes of the sea, i. e. to Him and we shall not go astray. Aug. the carnally curious, who walk, through Serm. 92. Christ, as God, is the home the patlis of the seas, i. e. in the depths whither we go; Christ, as man, is the of this world search out the things of way whereby we go. lb. 123. Christ time; which, like paths in the sea, vanish carrieth us on, as a leader, carrieth us in and perisli as soon as the water is rain- Him, as the way, carrieth us up to Him, gled together again, after yielding a pas- as our home." Aug. in Ps. 60. §. 4. sage to what has passed through. For Knowledge of God the liapphiesfi of all happinesfi. G9 made like corruptible man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things, changing^ Thy truth into a lie, and worsJiippi)tg and serring the creature more than the Creator. 6. Yet many tniths concerning the creature retained I - from these men, and saw the reason thereof from calculations, the succession of times, and the visible testimonies of tlie stars; and compared them with the saying of Manichacus, which in his phrenzy he had written most largely on these subjects; but discovered not any account of the solstices, or equinoxes, or the eclipses of the greater lights, nor what- ever of this sort I had learned in the books of secular phi- losophy. But I was commanded to believe; and yet it cor- responded not with what had been established by calculations and my own sight, but was quite contrary. [IV.] 7. Doth then, O Lord God of truth, whoso knoweth ^ 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 happier for them, but for Thee only,' if, knowing Thee, he glorifies Thee as Rom. God, and is thankful, and becomes not vain in Ms imagin-^^' ations. 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 cubits high it i.s, or how ^Wde it spreads, than he that can measure it, and count all its boughs, and neither oa^tis it, nor knows or loves its Creator: so a believer, whose all this world of wealth is, and uJto having 2 Cor. nothing, get possesseth all things, by cleaving unto Thee, ^'^^' whom all things serve, though he know not even the circles of the Great Bear, yet is it folly to doubt but he is in a better state than one who can measiue the heavens, and number the h " More praiseworthy is the mind, concerned tho\igh thou knowest not the which knoweth its very weakness, than that circuits of the stars, or the numbers of which, regarding it not, searches out the bodies celestial or terrestrial. Hehold paths of the stars, yea though it shall, or the beautu of the world, and praise the doth already, know them, not knowing counsels of the Creator. Behold what by what path he may enter upon his own fie made ; praise Him who made ; hold salvation and abiding strength." Aug.de this chiefly; love Ilim who made; for 'JVin. iv. 1. S. Aug. has the same train thee also, who lovest Ilim, He made in of thought, as in these sections, Serm. 68. His own image." $. 1, 2, which he closes, " Be not much 70 The vanities of heretics ordered to he a warning to the faithful. CONf\*^tars, and poise the elements, yet neglecteth Thee who hast — — -made all things in number ^ iveight, and measure. \\%'o. [V.] 8. But yet who bade that Manichaeus v^Tite on these thmgs also, skill in which was no element of piety? For Job 28, Thou hast said to man, Behold, piety and wisdom ; of which Lxx ^^6 might be ignorant, though he had perfect knowledge of these things ; but these things, since, knowing not, he most impudently dared to teach, he plainly could have no know- ledge of piety. For it is vanity to make profession of these worldly things even when known; but confession to Thee is piety. Wherefore this wanderer to this end spake much of these things, that convicted by those who had truly learned them, it might be manifest what imderstanding he had in the other abstruser things. For he would not have himself 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 mthin him'." When then 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,) yet his sacri- legious presumption would become evident enough, seeing he delivered things which not only he knew not, but which were falsified, with so mad a vanity of pride, that 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 behold such a man holding his opinion ; nor do I see that any ignorance as to the position or character of the coi*poreal creation can injure him, so long as he doth not believe any thing unworthy of Thee, O Lord, the Creator of all. But it doth injm*e him, if he imagine it to pertain to the form of the doctrine of piety, and will yet affinn that too stiffly whereof he is ignorant. And yet is even such an infirmity, in the infancy of faith, borne by Eph. 4, our mother Chai'ity, till the new-bom may grow np unto a ' perfect man, so as not to he carried about icith every wind of doctrine. But in him, who in such wise presumed to be the teacher, som'ce, guide, chief of all whom he could so persuade, that whoso followed him, thought that he followed, not a mere man, but Tliy Holy Spirit; who would not judge that ' See Note A ; $. iv. Truth not to be valued nor suspected for its outward garh. 71 so great madness, when once convicted of having taught any thing false, 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 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 with vmsettled mind I had 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 conference with whom, these and greater chfficulties, if I had them, were to be most readily and abundantly cleared. AVhen then he came, I found him a man of pleasing discom'se, and who could speak fluently and in better tenns, 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 they seem to me therefore better, because better said ; nor therefore true, because eloquent ; nor the soul therefore wise, because the face was comely, and the language graceful. But they who held him out to me, were no good judges of things ; and therefore to them he appeared understanding and wise, because in words pleasing. I felt however that another sort of people were suspicious even of truth, and refused to assent to it, if delivered in a smooth and copious discourse. But Thou, O my God, hadst already taught me by wonderful and secret ways, and therefore 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 therefore ^ On INIanichaean asceticism, see Note liimself, unless this pnssage be a proof. A ; $.iii.a. It does not appear elsewhere • Sec below on 1. vii. ^. 15. that any was specially ascribed to Manes 72 Fcmstiis* superjicialness how disguised to the many. CONF. falsely, because the utterance of the lips is inharmonious; nor, ^'^' again, therefore true, because rudely delivered ; nor therefore false, because the language is rich ; but that wisdom and folly, are as wholesome and unwholesome food ; and adonied or unadorned phrases, as courtly or country vessels ; either kind of moats may be served up in either kind of dishes. 11. That greediness then, wherewith I had of so long time 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 then delighted, and, with many others and more than they, did I praise and extol him. It troubled me, however, that in the assembly of his auditors, I was not allowed to put in, and communicate™ those questions that troubled me, in familiar converse \^dth him. Wliich when I might, and with my friends 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 Tully's Orations, a very few books of Seneca, some things of the poets, and such few volumes of his own sect, as were written in Latin and neatly, and was daily practised in speaking, he acquired a certain eloquence, which proved the more pleasing and seductive, because under the guidance of a good wit, and with a kind of natural gracefulness. Is it not thus, as I recall it, O Lord my God, Thou Judge of my conscience ? Before Thee is my heart, and my remembrance, Who didst at that time direct me by the hidden mystery of Ps. 50, 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 with prolix fables ", of the heaven, and stars, "> This was the old fashion of the East ; did our Saviour with the Doctors. (Luke where the scholars had liberty to ask 2, 46.) So it is still in some European questions of their masters, and to move Universities. (Old Ed.) See e. g. Statuta doubts as the professors were reading, or Oxon. Tit. iv. Sect. ii. $. 4. «0 soon as the lecture was done. Thus " See Note A ; $. iii. b. Aug. loosed from his snare hy ichat was a snare to others. 73 Sim, and moon, and I now no longer thought him able satis- factorily to decide what I much desired, whether, on com- parison of these things with the calculations I had elsewhere read, the account given in the books of Manichoeus were preferable, or at least as good. Which when I j)roposed to be considered and discussed, he, so far modestly, shrunk from the burthen. For he knew that he knew not these things, and was not ashamed to confess it. For he was not one of those talking persons, many of whom I had endured, who undertook 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. For he was not altogether ignorant of his own ignorance, nor would he rashly be entangled in a dispute, whence he could neither retreat, nor extricate himself fairly. Even for this I liked him the better. For fairer is the modesty of a candid mind, than the knowledge of those things which I desired" ; and such I found him, in all the more difficult and subtile questions. 13. My zeal for the writings of Manichajus being thus blunted, and despairing yet more of their other teachers, seeing that in divers things which perplexed me, he, so re- nowTied among them, had so turned out ; I began to engage with him in the study of that hterature, on which he also was much set, (and which as rhetoric-reader I was at that time teach- ing 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 I had purposed to ad- vance in that sect, upon knowledge of that man, came utterly to an end; not that I detached myself from them alto- gether, but as one finding nothing better, I had settled to be content meanwhile \^Titli what I had in whatever way fallen upon, unless by chance something more eligible should da^\Ti upon me. Thus that Faustus, to so many a snare of death,! had now, neither willing nor witting it, begun to looseni that wherein I was taken. For Thy hands, () my CJod, in the secret puq^ose of Thy providence, did not forsake my o Man must not blush to confess he on himself never to know. Aug. Kp. knows not what he floth not know, lest 190, §. 16. while he feigns that he knoweth, he bring 7 4. Aug. led toRome,forhis salvation,hy others' vanities and his own . CONF. soul ; and out of my mother's heart's blood, through her ^' ' tears night and day poured out, was a sacrifice offered for Joel 2, me unto Thee; and Thou didst deal with me by woncbous P^' 37 W3,ys. Thou didst it, O my God : for the steps of a man 23. are ordered hy 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. Thou didst deal mth me, that I should be persuaded to go to Rome, and to teach there rather, what I / was teaching at Carthage. And how 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 us, must be considered and confessed. I did not wish therefore to go to Rome, because higher gains and higher dignities were waiTanted 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 almost only reason was, that 1 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 pleasures, petulantly rush into the school of one, whose pupils they w^ere not, nor were even admitted without his permission. Whereas at Carthage, there reigns among the scholars a most disgraceful and unruly licence. They bm*st in audaciously, and with gestiures almost frantic, disturb all order which any one hath esta- blished 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 etcmal law shall never be lawful ; and they think they do it unpunished, ^^'hereas they are punished with the very blindness whereby they do it, and suffer incomparably worse than what they do. The manners then which, when a student, I would not make my ownP, I was fain, as a teacher, to endure in others: and so I was well pleased to go where, all that knew it, as- Ps. 142, surcd 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 P See above, l. iii. $. 6. His mother^ s prayers heard, by being denied. 75 Rome didst proffer me allurements, whereby I might be drawn thither, by men in love with a dying life, the one doing frantic, the other promising vain, things ; and, to correct my steps, didst secretly use their and my own perverseness. For both they who disturbed my quiet, were blinded with a disgraceful phrenzy, and they who invited me elsewhere, savoured of earth. And I, who here detested real misery, was there seeking unreal happiness. 15. But why I went hence, and went thither, Thou knew- est, O God, yet shewedst it neither to me, nor to my mother, who grievously bewailed my journey, and followed me as far as the sea. But I deceived her, holding me by force, that either she might keep me back, or go with me, and I feigned that I had a friend whom I could not leave, till he had a fair \^dnd 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 fidl of execrable defilements, from the waters of the sea, for the water' of Thy Grace; whereby when I was cleansed, the streams of my mother's eyes shoidd be dried, \^'ith^ which for me she daily watered the grornid under her face. And yet refusing to retmni without me, I scarcely persuaded her to stay that night in a place hard by oiu: ship, where was an Oratory' in memory of the blessed Cyprian. That night I privily departed, but she was tiot behind in weeping and prayer. And what, O Lord, was she with so many tears asking of Thee, but that Thou wouldest not suffer me to sail .^ But Thou, in the depth of Thy comisels and hearing the main point of her desire, regardedst not what she then asked, that Thou mightest make me what she ever asked. The wind blew and swelled our sails, and with- drew the shore from our sight; and she on the morrow was there, frantic with soitow, and with complaints and groans filled Thine ears, who didst then disregard them; whilst 4 The waters of baptism. (Old Ed.) (de Civ. Dei, xxii. 10.) where he says, ' Such [churches] as vvere built over " We do not build temples to our I\Iar- the grave of any INIartyr, or called by his tyrs as (Jods, but only memorials of them, name to preserve the memory of him, as dead men, whose spirits slill live with had usually the distinguishing title of God, nor do we erect altars to them in iMartyrium, or Confessio, or Memoria those memorials, or offer sacrifice there- given them. The Latins instead of Mar- on to our IMartyrs, but to the only God, tyrium commonly use the name of jNIemo- both theirs and ours." Bingham, Antiq. ria Martyrum for such kind of churches, b. viii. c. 1. $. 8. As in that noted passage of St. Austin, 70 BeUef in ihe Cross noi saving, if other faith unsound. CONF. through my desires, Thou wert huiTying me to end all desire, JLZl_and the earthly part of her affection to me was chastened by the allotted scom-ge of sorrows. For she loved my being with her, as mothers do, but much more than many; 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 hardheart- edness, she betook 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, canying all the sins which I had committed, both against Thee, and my- self, and others, many and grievous, over and above that 1 Cor. bond of original sin, whereby ire all die in Adam. For 15, 22. xhou hadst not forgiven me any of these things in Christ, nor had He abolished hj His cross' the'^^mitt/ which by my sins I had incuiTcd Avith Thee. For how should He, by the crucifixion of a phantasm", which I believed Him to be } So tme, then, was the death of my soul, as that of His flesh seemed to me false ; and how true the death of His body, so false was the life of my soul, which did not believe it. And now the fever heightening, I was parting and departing for ever. For had I then parted hence, whither had I depailed, but into fire and torments, such as my misdeeds deserved in the tmth of Thy appointment ? And this she knew not, yet in absence prayed for, me. But Thou, every where present, heardest her where she was, and, where I was, hadst compassion upon me ; that I should recover the health of my body, though phrcnzied as yet in my sacrilegious 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 confessed'". But I had grown up to my own shame, ^ and I madly scoffed' at the * S. Avig. substitutes " by Ilis Cross" him who believed not in His flesh." See for " by His flesh ;" (Eph. 2, 14.) since, Note A ; j. lii. as a IManichec, he had not the true faith " See ibid, in the Incarnation of Christ, neither did ^ Sec above, b. i. i. 10. hisbeliefintheCrossavailhim. " Christ,"' * See note on b. iv. c. 8. he would say, " saved not by His Cross, Mo}}inc(i\ (Jevotio)is diid risiotis. 77 prescripts of Thy medicine, who wouldest not suffer me, being such, to die a double death. With which wound had my mother's heart been pierced, it could never be healed. For I cannot express the affection she bare to me, and with how much more vehement anguish she was now in labour of me Gul.4,9. in the spirit, than at her childbearing in the flesh. 17. 1 see not then how she should have been healed, had such a death of mine stricken through the bowels of her love. And where would have been those her so strong and un-^ ceasing prayers, unintermitting to Thee alone ? But wouldest Thou, God of mercies, despise the contrite and hunihled heart Ps. 51, of that chaste and sober widow, so frequent in almsdeeds, so full of duty and service to Thy saints, no day intermitting the oblation at Thine altar, twice a day, morning and evening, | Y\in. without any intermission, coming to Thy chm'ch, not for idle 5, 10. tattlings and old w'wq?, 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 ^louldest 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 upon Thee, as Thine own handwriting. For Thou, because Thy mercy endureth for ever^ vouchsafest to those to whom Thou forgivest all their debts, to become also a debtor by Thy promises. [X.] 18. Thou recoveredst me then of that sickness, and healedst the son of Thy handmaid, for the time in 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 whicli 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 y See above, 1. iii. c. 11, 12. " See Note A at the end ; ^. iii. a. * L. iii. c. 12, beg. 78 Risk of scepticism in parting from errm-. CONF.not we that «in, but that I know not what other nature sinned ^:^- in us;" and it dehghted my pride, to be free from blame ^; and when I ^lad done any evil, not to confess I had done any, Ps. 41, that Tliou 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 my- Ps. 141, self of Thee to salvation. Not as yet then hadst Thou set Vuta. « watch before my mouth, and a door of safe keeping around my lij^s, that my heart might not turn aside to wicked speeches, to make excuses of sins, with men that work ini- quity : 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, for that they held, men ought to doubt every thing, and laid down that no truth can be compre- hended by man : for so, not then understanding eveiji their meaning, I also was clearly convinced that they thought, as they are commonly ^ reported. Yet did I freely and openly b lb. §. ii. a. and of the mind. But now there is such * From the LXX. S. Aug. applies the shrinking from toil, and carelessness of passage to the IManichees at length in valuable studies, that as soon as it is his Comm. See Note A, and Lat. Ed. noised abroad, that very acute philoso- ecaiise Scripture against them . 81 [XI.] 21. Furthermore, what the Maiiichees had criticised' in Thy Scriptures, I thought could not be defended ; yet at times verily I had a wish to confer upon these several points with some one very well skilled in those books, and to make trial what he thought thereon : for the words of one Ilelpidius, as he spoke and disputed face to face against the said Mani- chees, had begun to stir me even at Carthage : in that he had produced things out of the Scnptures, not easily with- stood, 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 Scnptures of the New Testa- ment had been corrupted*^ by I know not whom, who wished to engraff the law of the Jews upon the Christian faith : yet themselves produced not any uncorrupted copies. But I, con- ceiving of things corporeal only, was mainly held down, vehemently oppressed 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. [XII.] 2*2. 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 yoimg men, were not here prac- tised, as was told me : but on a sudden, said they, to avoid paying their master's stipend, a number of youths plot toge- ther, and remove to another; — breakers of faith, who for love of money hold justice cheap. These also 7?ig heart hated, p though not with a perfect hatred: for perchance I hated 22. 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 temporal, 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 ^ See above, 1. iii. $. 14. p. 38. at the end. •« See Note A at the end ; v. fin. "> Sec b. iii. c. 3. end. 1 See above, c. 10. p. 79 ; and note A (J 82 Sources of S. Ambrose's injinence. CON F. them if conigible, so as to i)refer to money the learning, ^•^'- which they acquire, and to learning. Thee, O God, the truth and fulness of assured good, and most pure peace. But then I rather for my own sake misliked them evil, than liked and wished them good for Thine. [XIII.] -23. When therefore they of Milan had sent to Rome to the prefect of the city, 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 Manichaean vanities, to be freed wherefrom I was to go, neither of us however knowing itjdhat Symmachus, then prefect of the city, would try me by setting me some subject, 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 dis- Ps. 4, 7. pense unto Thy people the flour of Thy wheat, the gladness 104, 15. q£ fjjjy qIj^ ^^^ ^YiQ sober inebriation of Thy wine. To him was I unknowing led by Thee, that by him I might know- ingly be led to Thee. That man of God received me as a father, and shewed me an Episcopal kindness on my com- ing. 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 that intent I ought, but, as it were, trying his eloquence, whether it answered the fame thereof, or flowed fuller or lower than was reported ; and I hung on his words attentively ; but of the matter I was as a careless and scornful looker-on ; and I Was delighted with the sweetness of his discourse, more recondite, yet in manner, less winning and harmonious, than that of Faustus. Of the matter, however, there was no com- parison ; for the one was wandering amid Manichaean de- lusions, the other teaching salvation most soundly. But Vs. \\^, salvation is far from sinners, such as I then stood before him ; and yet was I drawing nearer by little and little, and unconsciously. [XR\] 24. For though I took no pains to learn what he spake, but only to hear 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 Carnal notions of God and of Scripture A .'s chief difficulties. 83 into my mind the things which I woukl refuse ; for I could not separate them. And while I opened my heart to admit " how eloquently he spake," there also entered '^ how truly he spake ;" but this by degrees. For first, these things also had now begun to appear to me capable of defence ; and the Catholic faith, for which I had thought nothing could be said against the Manichees' objections, 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.Jigure^^ which when I understood literally, I i Cor. was slain spiritually. A^ery many places then of those books 2*^: or^3 having been explained, I now blamed my despair, in 6. believing, that no answer could be given to such as hated and scoffed" at the. Law and the Prophets. Yet did I not therefore then see, that the Catholic way was to be held, because it also could find learned maintainers, who could at large and with some shew of reason answer objections; nor that what I held was therefore to be condemned, because 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 Manichees of falsehood. Could I once have conceived a spiritual sub- stance, 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 natui*e, 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 have been much more probable. So then after the manner of the Academics (as they are supposed ^5) doubting of every thing, and wavering between all, I settled so far, that the Manichees were to be abandoned ; judging that, even while doubting, I might not continue in that sect, to which I already prefeiTed some of the philosophers ; to which philosophers notwithstanding, for that they were without the saving Name of Christ, I utterly refused to commit the cure n This wa? the main weapon of the ^ See above, ^. 19. Manichees. See Note A. v. fin. G 2 84 AKf/.refHrnstotfte Church, tilUie Hhouldfind any thing safer. CONF.of my sick soul. I detennined therefore so long to be a JL^ Catccliumen in the Catholic Church, to which I had been commended by my parents, till something certain should dawn upon me, whither I might steer my course**. P S. Aug. relates this part of his life c. 28. for the sake of his friend Honora- summarily in liis " Benefit of Believing," tus, who was still a Manichee. THE SIXTH BOOK. Arrival of Monnica at Milan ; her obedience to S. Ambrose, and his vahie for her ; S. Ambrose's habits; Aug.'s «rradual 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 ; hovv shaken in his worldly pursuits ; God's guidance of his friend Alypius ; Aug. debates with himself and his friends about their mode of life ; his inveterate sins, and dread of judgment. [I.] 1. O Thou, my hope from my youth, where wert ThouPs.71,5. to me, and whither wert Thou gone } Hadst not Thou created me, and separated me from the beasts of the field, and fowls of the air ? 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 distrusted and de- spaired 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 com- forted the very mariners, (by whom passengers unacquainted with the deep, use rather to be comforted when troubled,) assuring them of a safe anival, 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 discovered to her, that I was now no longer a Manichee, though not yet a Catholic Christian, she was not overjoyed, as at something unexpected ; although she was now assured concerning that part of my misery, for which she bewailed me as one dead, though to be reawakened by Thee, canying me forth upon the bier of her thoughts, that Thou mightest say to the son of Luke 7, the tcidow, Young man, I say \into thee, Arise; and he should revive, and hegin to speak, and thou shouhlest deliver him to his mother. Her heart then was shaken mth no tumultuous exultation, when she heard that what she daily * Go not abroad, return unto thyself, de vera Relig. c. 30. See below vii. in the inner man dwelleth truth. Aug. c. 7. and 10. 14. 86 Monntca's conjident expectations of her son's conversion. CONF. vvith tears desired of Thee, was already in so great part realized ; _?i_Yl: in that, though 1 had not yet attained the truth, I was rescued from falsehood; but, as being; assured, that Thou, who hadst promised the whole, wouldest 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 to me. 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 Ambrose, John 4, 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 confidently, that I should pass from sickness unto health, after the access, as it were, of a sharper fit, which physicians call " the crisis." [IL] 2. When then my mother had once, as she was wont in Afiic, 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 so piously and obediently embraced his b Fidelem Catholicum, one baptized whereas in these their monuments offer- into the Catholic Faith. ings are made to God, who made them ^ Baptism. [Old Ed.] The text is both men and martyrs, and joined them quoted in the prayers for the consecra- in heavenly glory with His holy angels : tion of the water of Baptism in the old that by those holy rites we may both Roman and Galilean Liturgies. See thank the true God for their victories ; Assem. Cod. Liturg. t. ii. p. 6, 7. 33. 35. and by the renewal of their memories, and 41. imploring His aid, may exert ourselves d S. Aug. goes over some of these sub- to gain the like crown. Whatever ser- jects in the Civ. ])ei, 1. viii. c. 27. It is vices then religious persons may perform addressed to heathens. " Nor do we in these spots, are adornings of the mar- make temples, priestly offices, rites, sacri- tyrs' churches, not oblations or sacrifices fices, to these same martyrs, since not to the deceased, as though gods. They they, but their God, is our God. We too, who bring their meals thither, (which honour the chapels indeed erected in the better sort of Christians does not do, memory of them, as those of holy men and in most countries is no such custom,) of God, who have contended to the death yet they who do it, (and having done it of tiicir bodies for the truth, that the true they pray, and then remove to eat or faith might be spread, the false and give of them to the poor,) seek to have feigned convicted — But who ever heard them sanctified through the acceptableness any Christian priest, even when standing of the martyrs, in the name of the Lord at the altar built over the holy body of of the martyrs. But that these are not . a martyr to the honour and worship of sacrifices to the martyrs, he knoweth, God, say in the prayers, ' I offer to thee who knows the One Christian Sacrifice, a sacrifice, Peter or Paul or Cyprian,' which also is there ofFered." Her ready obedience to S. Ambrose. 87 wishes, that I myself wondered how readily she censured her own practice, rather than discuss his prohibition. For mne- 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 lesson of sobriety, as men well-drunk at a draught mingled with water. But she, when she had brought her basket with the accustomed festival-food, to be but tasted by herself, and then given away, never joined therewith more than one small cup of wine, diluted according to her own abstemious habits, which for comlesy she would taste. And if there were many Churches of the departed saints, that were to be honoured in that manner, she still car- ried round that same one cup, to be used every where ; and this, though not only made very watery, but unpleasantly heated wdth carrying about, she would distribute to those about her by small sips ; for she sought there devotion, not pleasure. So soon, then, as she found this custom to be for- bidden by that famous preacher, and most pious prelate, even to those that would use it soberly, lest so an occasion of excess might be given to the drunken = ; and for that these, as it were, anniversary funeral solemnities did much resemble the superstition of the Gentiles, she most willingly forbare it: and for a basket 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 give what she could to the poor; that so the communication*^ of the Lord's Body might be there rightly celebrated, where, after the example 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 not as Ambrose, whom, for my salvation, she loved most entirely ; and he her again, for her most rehgious conversation, whereby in good works, so fervent in spirit, she was constant at church ; so that, when he saw « S. Aug. on the same ground, per- would follow the example of the chief see. suaded the Church of Hippo, before he ^ i'he holy Eucharist was alway> cele- became its Bishop, to abandon this pra'c- brated by the whole Church on the birth- tice(Ep.29.),andwrote to urge Aurelius, day, i. e. day of martyrdom, of the Mar- Bishop of Carthage, to abolish it \a his tyr. See Bingham 13, 9. 5. and 20, 7. see, anticipating that the rest of Africa 7, 8. 88 'S'. Ambrose's mode of life. CONF. me, he often burst forth into her praises ; congratulating me, -5i_^'il 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 to life could not be found out. [III.] 3. Nor did I yet groan in my prayers, that Thou wouldest help me ; but my spirit was wholly intent on learn- ing, and restless to dispute. And Ambrose himself, as the world counts hajipy, I esteemed a happy man, whom per- sonages so great held in such honour; 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 adver- sities, and what sweet joys Thy Bread had for the hidden mouth of his spirit, when chewing the cud*^ thereof, I neither could con- jecture, nor had experienced. Nor did he know the tides of my feelings, or the abyss of my danger. For I could not ask of him, what I would as 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 the pages, and his heart searched out the sense, but his voice and tongue were at rest. Oft-times 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 interval, which he obtained, free from the din of others' business, for the reciiiiting of his mind, he was loath to be taken off; and perchance he dreaded lest if the author he read should deliver any thing obsciurely, i This animal (the swine) is in the Which whoso doth not, is figured by law classed as unclean, as not ruminating, that sort of animals, whence the very not as being its fault but its nature. But abstaining from their flesh forewarned us there are men signified by this animal, to avoid the like fault. For wisdom her- unclean by their fault not by nature, who self being such a desirable treasure, it is licaringthc words of wisdom gladly, after- of this cleanness of ruminating, and un- wards reflect not thereon. For to bring back cleanness of not ruminating, that it is whatever useful thing you have heard, as it written in another place, " The desirable^ were from the interior of the memory to treasure resteth in the mouth of the wise, the moiith of reflection, what else is it but the fool swalloweth it down." Aug. than after a sort spiiitually to ruminate ? c. Faust, vj. 7. A ug. hadcriticised not Cat?iolicfaith, but his own notions of it. 89 some attentive or perplexed hearer should desire him to ex- pound 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 mth what intent soever he did it, certainly in such a man it was good. 4. I however certainly had no opportunity of enquiring 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 2 Tim. the Word of Truth among the people ; and I was more and '^' ^^' more convinced, that all the knots of those crafty calumnies, which those our deceivers had knit against the Divine Books, could be miravelled. But when I understood withal, that " man, created hy Thee, after Thine ow?i image,''' w^as not so understood by Thy spiritual sons, whom of the Catholic Mother Thou hast bom again through grace, as though they believed and conceived of Thee as bounded by human shape ; (although vrhat a spiritual substance should be I had not even a faint or shadowy notion ;) yet, with joy I blushed at having so many years barked not against the Catholic faith, but against the fictions of carnal imaginations. For so rash and impious had I been, that what I ought by enquiring to have learned, I had pronounced on, condemning. For Thou, Most High, and most near ; most secret, and most present ; \Vlio hast not limbs some larger, some smaller, but art wholly every where, and no where in space, art not of such corporeal shape, yet hast Thou made man after Thine own image ; and behold, from head to foot is he contained in space. [IV.] 5. Ignorant then how this Thy image should subsist, I should have knocked and proposed the doubt, how it was to be beheved, not insultingly opposed it, as if believed. Doubt, then, 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 eiTor and vehemence, prated of so many un- certainties. For that they were falsehoods, became cleai" to me later. However I was certain that they were uncertain, and 90 Belief, not demonstration, the way to divine knowledge. CONF. that I had formerly accounted them certain, when with a -5lZ£l blind 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 T had grievously censured her. So I was confounded, and converted: and I joyed, O 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 conceits ; nor in her sound doctrine, maintained any tenet which should confine Thee, the Creator of all, in space, however great and large, yet bounded every where by the limits of a human fonn. 6. I joyed also, that the 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 I reviled Thy holy ones for so thinking, whereas indeed they thought not so : and with joy I heard Ambrose in his sermon» to the people, oftentimes most diligently recommend this text for a 2 Cor. 3, rule, The letter killeth, hut the Spirit giveth life; whilst he drew aside the^ mystic veil, laying open spiritually what ac- cording to the letter, seemed 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 assenting 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 think that even this could not be comprehended ; but I de-. sired to have other things as clear as this, whether things corporeal, which were not present to my senses, or spiritual, whereof 1 knew not how to conceive, except corporeally. And by believing might I have been cured, that so the eye- sight of my soul being cleared, might in some way be directed to Thy tmth, which abideth always, and in no part faileth. But as it happens that one, who has tried a bad physician, fears to trust himself with a good one, so was it vAih. the health of my soul, which could not be healed but by believing, and lest it should believe falsehoods, refused 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. Process, uJiereby Aug. came to believe the Scriptures. 91 [V.] 7. Being led, however, from this to prefer the Catholic doctrine, I felt that her proceeding was more unassuming and honest, in that she required to be believed things not demon- strated '', (whether it was that they could in themselves be demon- strated but not to certain persons, or could not at all be,) whereas among the Manichees our credulity was mocked by a promise of certain knowledge, and 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 little with most tender and most merciful hand, touching and composing my heart, didst persuade me — considering what innumerable things I believed, which I saw not, nor was present while they were done, as so many things in secular history, so many reports of places and of cities, which I had not seen; so many of friends, so many of physicians, so many continually of other men, I which unless we should believe, we should do nothing at all in this life ; lastly, with how unshaken an assm-ance I believed, of what parents I was bom, which I could not know, had I not believed upon hearsay — considering all this. Thou didst per- suade me, that not they who believed Thy Books, (which Thou hast established in so great authority among almost all nations,) but they who believed them not, were to be blamed ; and that they were not to be heard, who should say to me, " How knowest thou those Scriptures to have been imparted " unto mankind by the Spirit of the one true and most true " God ?" For this very thing was of all most to be believed, since no contentiousness of blasphemous questionings, of all that multitude which I had read in the self-contradicting philosophers, could wring this belief fi'om 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, ajid hadst a care of us ; though I was ignorant, both what was to be thought of Thy substance, and what way led or led back to Thee. Since then we were too weak by abstract reason- ings to find out truth : and for this very cause needed the authority of Holy Writ; I had now begun to believe, that Thou wouldest never have given such excellency of authority h See Note A ; ad fin. 92 Benefit of the lowly form and hidden depths of Scripture. CONF. to that Writ in all lands, hadst Thou not willed thereby to ^' ^^' be believed in, thereby sought. For now what things, sound- ing strangely in the Scripture, were wont to offend me, having heard divers of them expounded satisfactorily, I refeiTed to the depth of the mysteries, and its authority appeared to me the more venerable, and more worthy of religious credence, in that, while it lay open to all to read, it reserved the majesty \ of its mysteries within its profounder meaning, stooping to all in the great plainness of its words and lowliness of its 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 naiTow passages waft over towai'ds Thee some / iew, yet many more than if it stood not aloft on such a height of authority, nor drew multitudes within its bosom by its holy lowliness. 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. [VL] 9. T panted after honours, gains, marriage ; and Thou deridedst me. In these desires I underwent most bitter crosses, Thou being the more gracious, the less Thou suf- feredst aught to grow sweet to me, which was not Thou. Behold my heart, O Lord, who wouldest I shoidd remember all this, and confess 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! and Thou didst initate the feeling of its wound, that forsaking all else, it might be con- verted unto Thee, who art above all, and without whom all things would be nothing; be converted, and be healed. How miserable was I then, and how didst Thou deal with me, to make me feel my misery on that day, when I was prepaiing to recite a panegyric of the Emperor \ wherein I was to utter many a lie, and lying, was to be applauded by those who knew I lied, and my heart was panting with these anxieties, and boiling with the feverishness of consuming thought». For, passing through one of the streets of Milan, I observed a • Perhaps Valentinian the younger, Petil. iii, 25.) that " he recited on the whose court, according to Pos>idius, was first of January a panegyric to Bauto the at INlilan. when Aug. was Professor of consul, as required by his then profession Rhetoric there. Aug. also writes (c. litt. of Rhetoric." (Ed. Ben.) The sight of a dntnken beggar a lesson in OocVs hands. 98 poor beggar, then, I suppose, with a full belly, joking and joy- ous : and I sighed, and spoke to the friends around me, of the many sorrows of our phrenzies ; for that by all such efforts of om*s, as those wherein I then toiled, dragging along, under the goading of desire, the burthen of my o^vn wretchedness, and, by dragging, augmenting it, we yet looked to arrive only at that very joyousness, whither that beggar-man had arrived before us, who should never perchance attain it. For what he had obtained by means of a few begged pence, the same was I plotting for by many a toilsome turning and winding ; the joy of a temporary felicity. For he verily had not the true joy ; but yet I with those my ambitious designs was seeking lone much less true. And certainly he was joyous, I anxious ; he void of care, I full of fears. But should any ask me, had 1 rather be merry or fearful ? 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 out of wrong judgment; for, was it the truth ^ For I ought not to prefer myself to him, because more learned than he, seeing I had no joy therein, but sought to please men by it ; and that not to instruct, but simply to please. Wherefore also Thou didst break my bones with the staff of thy correction. 10. 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 joyed in drunkenness ; Thou desiredst to joy in glory." What glory. Lord.? That which is not in Thee. For even as his was no true joy, so was that no true glory: and it overthrew my soul more. He that very night should 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 make a differ- ence whence a man's joy is." I know it, and the joy of a faithful hope lieth incomparably beyond such vanity. Yea, and so was he then beyond me : for he verily was the happier; not only for that he was throughly drenched in mirth, 1 disembowelled with cares : but he, by fair wishes, had gotten wine ; T, by lying was seeking for empty, swelling praise. Much to this piupose said I then to my friends: and I often marked in them how it fared with me ; and I found it /. 94 History of A ly plus, n friend of Augustine, CONF. went ill with me, and grieved, and doubled that very ill ; and — : — lif any prosperity smiled on me, I was loath to catch at it, for almost before I could grasp it, it flew away. [VII.] 11. These things we, who were living as friends together, bemoaned together, but chiefly and most familiarly did I speak thereof with Alypius and Nebridius, of whom Alypius was bom in the same town with me, of persons of chief rank there, but younger than I. For he had studied imder me, both when I first lectured in our town, and afterwards at Carthage, and he loved me much, because I seemed to him kind, and learned ; and I him, for his great towardliness to virtue, which was eminent enough in one of no greater years. Yet the whirlpool of Carthaginian habits (amongst whom those idle spectacles are hotly followed) had dra^Mi him into the madness of the Circus. But while he was miserably tossed therein, and I, professing rhetoric there, had a public school, as yet he used not my teaching, by reason of some unkindness risen betwixt his father and me. I had found then how deadly he doted upon the Circus, and was deeply grieved that he seemed likely, nay, or had thrown away so great promise : yet had I no means of advising or with a sort of 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 did his father ; but he was not such ; laying aside then his father's mind in that matter, he began to greet me, come sometimes into my lecture-room, hear a little, and be gone. 12.1 however had forgotten to deal with him, that he should not, 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, hadst not forgotten him, who was one day to be among Thy children. Priest and Dispenser of Thy Sacrament; and that his amendment might plainly be attributed to Thyself, Thou effectedst it through me, but unknomngly. For as one day I sat in my accustomed place, with my scholars before me, he entered, greeted me, sat down, and applied his mind to what I then handled. I had by chance a passage in hand, which while I was ex- plaining, a likeness from the Circensian races occurred to me, as likely to make what I would convey pleasanter cured by God, through a chance word of Augustine. 95 and plainer, seasoned with biting mockery of those whom that madness had enthralled; 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 whence another would have taken occa- sion of offence wdth me, that right-minded youth took as a ground of being offended at himself, and loving me more fervently. For Thou hadst said it long ago, and put it into Thy book, Rebuke a wise man and he will love thee. But Prov. 9, I had not rebuked him, but Thou, who employest all, know- ' ing or not knowing, in that order which Thyself knowest, (and that order is just,) didst of my heart and tongue make burning coals, by which to set on fire the hopeful mind, thus languishing, and so cm-e it. Let him be silent in Thy praises, who considers not Thy mercies, which confess unto Thee out of my inmost soul. For he upon that speech, burst out of that pit so deep, wherein he was wilfully plunged, and was blinded with its wretched pastimes ; and he shook his mind with a strong self-command ; whereupon all the filths of the Circensian pastimes flew off from him, nor came he again thither. Upon this, he prevailed with his unwilling father, that he might be my scholar. He gave way, and gave in. And Alypius beginning to be my hearer again, was involved in the same superstition with me, loving in the Manichees that show of continency, which he supposed true and un- feigned. Whereas it was a senseless and seducing continency, ensnaring precious souls, unable as yet to reach the depth of virtue, yet readily beguiled with the surface of what was but a shadowy and counterfeit virtue. [VIII.] 13. He, not forsaking that secular course which his parents had charmed him to pursue, had gone before me to Rome, to study law, and there he was can'ied away incredibly with an incredible eagerness after the shows of gladiators. For being utterly averse to and detesting such spectacles, he was one day by chance met by cUvers of his acquaintance and fellow-students coming from dinner, and they with a familiar violence haled him, vehemently refusing and resisting, into the Amphitheatre, during these cruel and deadly shows, he thus protesting ; " Though you hale my " body to that place, and there set me, can you force me 96 Alypius betrayed hy self-confidence to lore bloodshed. " also to turn my mind or my eyes to those shows ? T shall " then be absent while present, and so shall overcome both " you and them." They heai'ing this, led him on neverthe- less, desirous perchance to try that very thing, whether he could do as he said. AVhen they were come thither, and had taken their places as they could, the whole place kindled with that savage 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 his soul, than the other, whom he desired to behold, was in his body ; and he fell more miserably than he, upon whose fall that mighty noise was raised, which entered through his ears, and unlocked his eyes, to make way for the striking and beating down of 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, drink- ing in j)hrenzy, unawares, and was delighted mth that guilty fight, and intoxicated with the bloody pastime. Nor was he now the man he came, but one of the throng he came mito, yea, a true associate of theirs that brought him thither. Why say more ? He beheld, shouted, kindled, earned thence with him the madness which should goad him to return not only with them who first drew him thither, but also ^efore 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. But this was already being laid up in his memory to be a medicine hereafter. So was that also, that when he was yet studying under me at Cailhage, and was thinking over at mid-day in the market-place what he was to say by heart, (as scholars use to practise,) Thou sufFeredst him to be apprehended by the officers of the market-place for a thief. For no other cause, 1 deem, didst Thou, our God, suffer it, but that he, who was hereafter to prove so great a man. God instructs beforehand ivhom He employs. 97 should already begin to learn, that m judging of causes, man was not readily to be condemned by man out of a rash credulity. 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, privily bringing a hatchet, got in, unperceived by Alypius, as far as the leaden gratings, which fence in the silversmiths' shops, and began to cut away the lead. But the noise of the hatchet being heard, the silver- smiths beneath began to make a stir, and sent to apprehend whomever they should find. But he hearing their voices, ran away, leaving his hatchet, fearing to be taken with it. Alypius now, who had not seen him enter, was aware of his going, and saw with what speed he made away. And being desirous to know the matter, entered the place ; where finding the hatchet, he was standing, wondering and considering it, when behold, those that had been sent, find him alone with the hatchet in his hand, the noise whereof had startled and brought them thither. They seize him, hale him away, and gathering the dwellers in the market-place together, boast of having taken a notorious thief, and so he was being led away to be taken before the judge. 15. But thus far was Alypius to be instructed. For forth- with, O Lord, Thou succouredst his innocency, whereof Thou alone wert witness. For as he was being led either to prison or to punishment, a certain architect met them, who had the chief charge of the public buildings. Glad they were to meet him especially, by whom they were wont to be suspected of stealing the goods lost out of the market-place, as though to shew him at last by whom these thefts were committed. He, however, had divers times seen Alypius at a certain Senator's house, to whom he often went to pay his respects ; and recognizing him immediately, took him aside by the hand, and enquiring the occasion of so great a calamity, heard the whole matter, and bade all present, amid much uproar and threats, to go with him. So they came to the house of the young man, who had done the deed. There, before the door, was a boy so young, as to be likely^ not apprehending any harm to his master, to disclose the whole. For he had attended his master to the market-place. Whom so soon as Alypius remembered, he told the architect: and he shewing H 98 Alifpius' unusual honesty and temptations. the hatchet to the boy, asked him " Whose that was?" " Ours," quoth he presently: and being further questioned, he discovered every thing. Thus the crime being transfeiTed to that house, and the multitude ashamed, which had begun to insult over Alypius, he who was to be a dispenser of Thy Word, and an examiner of many causes in Thy Church', went away better experienced and instructed. [X.] 16. Him then I had found at Rome, and he clave to me by a most strong tie, and went with me to Milan, both that he might not leave me, and might practise something of the law he had studied, more to please his parents, than himself There he had thrice sat as Assessor with an uncor- ruptness, much wondered at by others, he wondering at others rather, who could prefer gold to honesty. His cha- racter was tried besides, not only with the bait of covetous- ness, 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 senator, to whose favours many stood indebted, many much feared. He would needs, by his usual power, have a thing allowed him, which by the laws was unallowed. Alypius resisted it : a bribe was promised ; with all his heart he scorned it : threats were held out ; he trampled upon them: all wondering at so unwonted a spirit, which neither desired the fiiendship, nor feared the enmity of one so gi'eat and so mightily renowned for innumerable means of doing good or evil. And the very Judge, whose councillor Alypius was, although also um^dlling it should be, yet did not openly refuse, but put the matter off upon Alypius, alleging that he would not allow him to do it: for in truth had the Judge done it, Alypius would have decided otherwise '. With this one thing in the way of learning was he well-nigh seduced, that he might have books copied for him at Praetorian prices"', but consulting justice, he altered his deliberation for the * Alypius became Bishop of Thagaste. Henry Spelman's Glossary, "Comes," (Aug. de gestis c. J^merit. §. 1 and 5.) who quotes Cassiodor. Var. 1. v. c. 40. On the necessity which Bishops were [Old Ed.] under of hearing secular causes, and its J Discederet, sc, in alia omnia. The use, see Bingham, 1. ii. c. 7. old Ed. renders " gone off the Bench." ^ The Lord High Treasurer of the "i Pretiis Praetorianis, " Pretium re- Western Empire was called Comes Sa. gium" is the privilege of a king or lord to crarum largitionian: he had six other purchase things at a certain fixed price." treasurers in so many provinces under Du Cange. him, whereof he of Italy was one. Sir Ardent longing after amendment in itself unavailiiig. 99 better; esteeming equity whereby he was hindered more gainful than the power whereby he were allowed. These are slight things, but he that is faithful in little, is faithful Lnke also in much. Nor can that any how be void, which pro- ^^' ^^* ceeded out of the mouth of Thy Tnith ; //' ye have not been ver. ii. faithful in the unrighteous Mammon, who will commit to ^^* your trust true riches ? And if ye have not been faithful in that ivhich is another nian''^, tcho shall give you that ivhich is your own ? He, being such, did at that time cleave to me, and with me wavered in purpose, what course of life was to be taken. 17. Nebridius also, who having left his native country near Carthage, yea and Carthage itself, where he had much lived, leaving his excellent family-estate and house, and a mother behind, who was not to follow him, 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 examiner of the most difficult questions ". Thus were there the mouths of three indigent persons, sighing out their wants one to another, and waiting upon Thee that ThouPs.\45. mightest give them their meat in due season. And in all the bitterness, which by Thy mercy followed our worldly affairs, as we looked towards the end, why we should suffer all this, darkness met us; and we turaed away groaning, and saying. How long shall these things be? This too we often said; and so saying forsook them not, for as yet there dawTied nothing certain, which, these forsaken, we might embrace. [XI.] 18. And I, viewing and reviewing things, most wondered at the length of time from that my nineteenth year, wherein I had begun to kindle with the desire of wisdom, settling when I had found her, to abandon all the empty hopes and lying pln*enzies of vain desires. And lo, I was now in my thirtieth year, sticking in the same mire, greedy of enjoying things present, which passed away and wasted my soul ; while I said to myself, " To-morrow I shall find it ; it will appear manifestly, and I shall grasp it ; lo, n " Nebridius, my friend, who beina a to doctrines of faith, hated exceedingly a most diligent and acute enquirer in diffi- brief answer on a great question." Aug. cult subjects, especially such as related Ep. 98. $. 8. H 2 100 Review of Aug.^s jyerplexities and vacillations, CONF. Faiistus the Manichee will come, and clear every thing ! O __you gieat men, ye Academicians, it is trne then, that no certainty can be attained for the ordering of life ! Nay, let us search the more diHgently, and despair not. Lo, things in the ecclesiastical books are not absm'd to us now, whicli sometimes seemed absurd, and may be otherwise taken, and in a good sense. I will take my stand, where, as a child, my parents placed me, until the clear truth be fomid out. But \ where shall it be sought or when } Ambrose has no leisure ; we have no leisure to read; where shall we find even the books? Whence, or when procure them? from whom borrow them? Let set times be appointed, and certain hom-s be ordered for the health of our soul. Great hope has dawned; the Catholic Faith teaches not what we thought, and vainly accused it of; her instructed members hold it pro- fane, to believe God to be bounded by the figure of a human body : and do we doubt to " knock," that the rest " may be opened ?" The forenoons our scholars take up ; what do we during the rest? \Vhy not this? But when then pay we court to our great friends, whose favour we need? \Vlien compose what we may sell to scholars ? When refresh our- selves, unbending our minds from this intenseness of care ?" 19. " Perish every thing, dismiss we these empty vanities, and betake ourselves 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 leam what here we have neglected ? and shall we not rather suffer the pimishmenfof this negligence ? What, if death itself cut off" and end all care and feeling? Then must this 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 o The Church herself addresses you ye have not seen, and so refuse to believe, in tones of motherly affection, " I whose Look then at this, reflect on this which growth and fruitfuliiess through the whole you see ; which is neither related to you, world so much amazes you, was not beinij past, nor foretold, being future, always what you now behold me. Ihey but pointed out to you as present. Is it who at that time were believers in Judita, in your eyes a slight thing, or without taught the miraculous birth of a virgin, meaning; think you it none or a slight the Passion, Resurrection, and Ascension Divine miracle, that the whole human race of Christ, all His divine words and deeds, wear the name of One crucified V Aug. witnesses the things witnessed. These de fide rer. queWisd.8, continent unless Thou give it ; and that Thou wouldest give .* " ^' it, if witk inward groanings I did knock at Thine ears, and ^ with a settled faith did cast my care on Thee. [XII.] 21. Alypius indeed kept me from marrying; al- leging, that so could we by no means vnXh undistracted P " I was entangled in the life of this observed in the discourses of our Priest world, clinging to dull hopes, of a beau- [Ambrosp] and sometimes in yours [The- teou« wife, the pomp of riches, the empti- odorusj, that you had no corporeal notions ness of honours, and the other liurtful when you thought of God, or even of the and destructive pleasures." Aug. de soul, which of all tilings is next to God. util. credendi, $. 3. " After 1 had But I was withheld, I own, from casting shaken off the Manicharans and escaped, myself speedily into the bosom of true especially when I had ciossed the sea, wisdom, by the alluring hopes of marriage the Academics long detained me tossing and honours ; meaning when I iiad ob- in the waves, winds from all quarters tained these, to press (a^ few singularly beating against my helm. And so I came happy had before me) with oar and sail to thi»-shore, and there found a pole-star, into that haven, and there rest." Aug, to whom to entrust myself. For I often de Vita Beata, $. 4. 10*2 Dangers and courae of curiosity. CONF.leisure live together in the love of wisdom, as we had long de- ^' ^'^' sired. For himself was even then most pure in this point, so that it was wonderful ; and that the more, since in the outset of his youth he had entered into that course, but had not stuck fast therein; rather had he felt remorse and revolting at it, living thenceforth until now most continently. But I opposed him with the examples of those, who as maiTied men had cherished wisdom, and served God acceptably, and retained their Mends, and loved them faithfully. Of whose greatness of spirit I was far short ; and bound with the disease of the flesh, and its deadly sweetness, drew along my chain, dread- ing 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 weaving and laying in his path pleasurable snares, wherein his virtuous and freefeet*^ 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 m'ged in my defence when I saw him wonder, that there was great difference between his momen- tary and scarce-remembered knowledge of that life, which so he might easily despise, and my continued acquaintance where- to if but the honourable name of marriage were added, he ought not to wonder why I could not contemn that course ; he began also to desire to be married ; not as overcome with desire of such pleasure, but out of curiosity. For he would <1 PauUinus says, that "though he Bishop. Alypius, whom you embrace with lived among the people and set over your whole heart; deservedly: for who - them, ruling the sheep of the l.ord's fold, soever thinks favourably of that man, as a watchful shepherd, with anxious thinks of the great mercy of God, and of sleeplessness, yet by renunciation of the the wonderful gifts of God. — Soon, by world, and denial of Hesh and blood, he the help of God, I shall transfuse Aly- had made himself a wilderness, severed plus wholly into your soul; [Paullinus from the many, called among the few." had asked Alypius to write him his life, Ap, Aug. Ep. 24. $. 2. S. Jerome calls and Aug. had at Alypius' request under- him " his holy and venerable brother, taken to relieve him, and to do it;] for Father (Papa) Alypius." (Ep. 39. ib.) 1 feared chiefly, lest he should shrink Earlier, Aug.speaks of him, as " abiding from laying open all, which the Lord has in union with him, to be an example to bestowed upon him, lest, if read by any the brethr^en who wished to avoid the ordinary person (for it would not be read by you only), he should seem not so uch to set forth the gifts of God com- cares of this world," (Ep. 22.) and to i'aiilbnus, (Ep.27.) [ RoiuaiiianusJ " is a relation of the venerable and truly blessed mitted to men, as to exalt himself. Monnica's power of distinguishing true frmti false visions. 103 lain know, he said, what that should be, without which my life, to him so pleasing, would to me seem not life but a punishment. For his mind, free from that chain, was amazed at my thraldom ; and through that amazement was going on to a desire of tiying it, thence to the trial itself, and thence perhaps to sink into that bondage whereat he wondered, seeing he was willing to viake a covenant with death ; and, Is. 28, he that lores danger, shall fall into it. For whatever honour j^cd us. there be in the office of well-ordering a manied life, and a 3, 27. I'amily, moved us but slightly. But me for the most part the habit of satisfying an insatiable appetite tormented, while it held me captive; him, an admiring wonder was leading captive. So were we, until Thou, O Most High, not forsaking our dust, commiserating us miserable, didst come to our helj), by wondrous and secret ways. [XIII.] 23. Continual effort was made to have me manied. I wooed, I was j^romised, chiefly through my mother's pains, that so once mamed, the health-giving baptism might cleanse me, towards which she rejoiced that I was being daily htted, and observed that her prayers, and Thy promises, were being fulfilled in my faith. At which time 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 maniage ; Thou never wouldest. She saw indeed certain vain and phan- tastic things, such as the energy of the human spirit, busied thereon, brought together; and these she told me of, not with that confidence she was wont, when Thou shewedst her any thing, but slighting them. For she could, she said, through a certain feeling, which in vvords 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 maiTiage, two years under the fit age; and, as pleasing, was Waited for. [XIV.] 24. And many of us friends confemng about, and detesting the turbulent tm-moils of human life, had debated and now almost resolved on living apart from business and the bustle of men ; and this was to be thus obtained ; we were to bring whatever we might severally i)rocure, and make one household of all ; so that through the truth of our friend- 104 A fair plan baffled, to make way for those of God. CONF. ship nothing should belong especially 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 whom 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 ; who was the most earnest for this project ; and therein was his voice of great weight, because his ample estate 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 began to consider whether the wives, which some of us already had, others hoped to have, would allow this, all that plan, which was being so well moulded, fell to pieces in our hands, was utterly dashed and cast aside. Thence we betook Mat. 7, us to sighs, and groans, and our steps to follow the broad and beaten ivays of the world ; for many thoughts were in our I's. 33, heart, bid Thy counsel standefh for ever. Out of which ^* counsel Thou didst deride ours, and preparedst Thine own ; Ps. 145, purposing to yive us meat in due season, and to open Thy '^* ^^' hand, and to fill our souls with blessing. [XV.] 25. Meanwhile my sins were being 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 Afric, vowing unto Thee 1 Romanianus was a relation of Aly- now enjoy, that 1 have escaped the bonds pins, (Aug. Ep. 27. ad Paulin.) of of useless desires, thai, laying aside the talent, which astonished Aug. himself, weight of dead cares, I breathe, recover, (c. Acad. i. 1. ii. 1.) " surrounded by af- return to myself, that with all earnestness fluence from early youth, and snatched I am seeking the truth, [Aug. wrote this by what are thought adverse circum- the year before his baptism,] that I am stances from the absorbing whirlpools of attaining it, that I trust wholly to arrive life." (lb.) Aug. freiiuenlly mentions at it, you encouraged, impelled, effected." ids great wealth, as also this vexatious (o. Acad. ii. 2.) Aug. had " cast him suit, whereby he was harassed, (c. Acad, headlong with himself," (as so many i. 1. ii. 1, 2.) and which so clouded his other of his friends) into the Manichaean mind, ihat his talents were almost un- heresy, (ib. i. ^.3.) and it is to be hoped known ; (c. Acad. ii. 2.) as al^o his very that he extricated him with himself, but great kindness to himself, when •• as a we only learn positively that he con- poor lad, setting out to foreign study, he tinned to be fond of the works of Aug. had received him in his house, supported, ( Kp, 27.) whereas in that which he dedi- and (yet nmre) enrourai;ed him ; when cated to him, (c. Acad.) Aug. writes very deprived ()f his father, comforted, ani- doubtingly to him, and afterwards recom- mated, aided iiim ; when returning to mends him to Paulinus " to be cured Carlbagc, in pursuit of a higher employ- wholly or in part by his conversation." ment, supplied him w-tli all necessaries" (Ep. 27.) — " lastly," says Aug. " whatever ease I Fear of death and judgment checks to Aug.'s worst career. 1 05 never to know any other man, leaving with mc my son by her. But unhappy I, who could not imitate a very woman, impatient of delay, inasmuch as not till after tAvo years was I to obtain her I sought, not being so much a lover of marriage, as a slave to lust, procured another, though no wife, that so by the servitude of an enduring custom, the disease of my soul might be kept up and earned on in its vigor or even augmented, into the dominion of man*iage. Nor was that my wound cured, which had been made by the cutting away of the former, but after inflammation and most acute pain, it mortified, and my pains became less acute, but more desperate \ [XVI.] 26. To Thee be praise, glory to Thee, Fountain of mercies. I was becoming more miserable, and Thou nearer. Thy right hand was continually ready to pluck me out of the mire, and to wash me throughly, 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. And in my disputes with my friends Alypius and \ Nebridius, of the nature of good and evil, I held that Epicurus ^ had m my mind won the palm, had I not believed, that after death there remained a life for the soul, and places of requital 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 not discern that light of excellence and beauty, to be embraced for its own sake, which the eye of flesh cannot see, and is seen by the inner man. Nor did I, unhappy, consider from what source it sprung, that even on these things, foul as they were, I with pleasure discoursed "■ Pain which some think a primary is useful, when to the worse, useless.— evil, whether of mind cr body, cannot But evils without pain are worse ; for it even exist except in bodies retaining is worse to rejoice in initpiily, llian to feel some soundness. For that which offers pain for corruption. — So in the body a resistance, so as to sufter, after a maimer wound with pain is better than putre- refuses to cease to be what it was, liaving faction without pain, which especially is been to a degree good ; but when it is entitled moitification [corruption.] Aug. constrained to something better, the pain de natura boui Manich. c. 20. 106 No rent, save in God. COiS'F. with my friends, nor could I, even according to the notions ~L — - 1 then had of happiness, be happy without fiiends, amid what abundance soever of carnal pleasures. And yet 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 ! Turned it hath, and turned again, upon back, sides, and belly, yet all was painful*, and Thou alone rest. And behold. Thou art at hand, and deliverest us from om* wi'etched wanderings, and placest us in Thy way, and dost comfoi't us, and say, " Run ; I will cany you ; yea I will bring you through ; there also will I caiiy you." s How great a good God is, is chiefly one who forsaketh Him. Aug. de Gen. ad set forth by this, that it is well with no Lit. 1. xv. c. 5. THE SEVENTH BOOK. Aug.'s thirty-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 Manichaean heresy, but cannot altogether embrace the doctrine of the Church ; recovered from the belief in Astrology, but miserably perplexed about the origin of evil ; is led to find in the Platonists the seeds of the doctrine of the Divinity of the Wokd, but not of His humiliation; 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 S. Paul. [I.] 1 . Deceased was now that my evil and abominable youth, and I was passing into early manhood; the more defiled by vain things as I grew in years, who could not imagine any sub- stance, but such as is wont to be seen w ith these eyes. I thought not of Thee, O God, under the figure of an human body ; since I began to he^r aught of wisdom, I always avoided this ; and rejoiced to have fovmd the same in the faith of oiu' spiritual mother, Thy Catholic Church. But what else to conceive Thee I knew not. And I, a man, and such a man, sought to conceive of Thee the sovereign, only, true God ; and I did in my inmost soul believe that Thou wert incorniptible, and uninjurable, and unchangeable; because though not knowing whence or how, yet I saw plainly and was sure, that that which may be corrupted, must be inferior to that which cannot; what could not be injured I preferred unhesitatingly to what could receive injmy ; the unchangeable to things subject to change. My heart passionately cried out against all my phantoms, and with this one blow I sought to beat away from the eye of my mind all that unclean troop, which buzzed around it. And lo, being scaixe put off, in the twinkling t)f 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, uninjurable, and unchangeable, which 1 108 Aug. unhitelligihle to Jnmself would understand Ood. CONF. preferred before the corruptible, and injurable, and change- ^' ^ 'able) as being in space, whether infused into the world, or diffused infinitely without it. Because whatsoever I con- ceived, 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. I then being thus gross-hearted, nor clear ^ even to my- self, 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 some great thing. So also did I endeavour to con- ceive of Thee, Life of my life, as vast, through infinite spaces, on every side penetrating the whole mass of the universe, and beyond it, every way, through unmeasurable boundless spaces ; 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 that 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 wholly: 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 should admit Thy presence, by a secret inspiration, within and without, directing all things which Thou hast created. So I guessed, only as unable to conceive aught else, for it was false. For thus should a greater part of the earth contain a greater portion of Thee, and a less, a lesser: and all things should in such sort be full of Thee, that the body of an ele])hant should contain more of Thee than that of a sparrow, by how much larger it is, and takes up more room ; and thus sliouldest Thou make the several portions of Thyself present ^ " Ijy what understanding shall man would fain comprehend Him V Aug. de comprehend God, when he comprehend- Trin. v. $. 2. eth not his very intellect, whereby he An argument, never answered by the Manichees. lOJ) unto the several portions of the world, in fragments, large to the large, petty to the pettv^ But such art not Thou. But not as yet hadst Thou enlightened my darkness. [11]. 3. It was enough for me, T^ord, to oppose to those deceived deceivers, and dumb praters, since Thy word sounded not out of them; — that was enough which long ago, while we were yet at Carthage, Nebridius used to propound, at which all we that heard it, were staggered ; " That said '' nation of darkness, which the Manichees are wont to set as an opposing mass, over against Thee, what could it have done unto Thee, hadst Thou refused to fight with \i} For, if they answered, ^* it would have done Thee some hurt," then shouldest Thou be subject to injury and corruption: but if " it could do Thee no hurt," then was no reason brought for Thy fighting with it; and fighting in such wise, as that a certain portion or member of Thee, or offspring of Thy very Substance, should be mingled with opposed powers, and natures not created by Thee, and be by them so far corrupted and changed to the worse, as to be turned from happiness into misery % and need assistance, whereby it might be extricated and purified''; and that this offspring of Thy Substance was the souP, which being enthralled, defiled, corrupted. Thy Word, free, pure, and whole, might relieve^; that Word Itself being still cor- ruptible, because It was of one and the same Substance =. So then, should they affirm Thee, whatsoever Thou art, that is. Thy Substance whereby Thou art, to be incoiTuptible, then were all these sayings false and execrable ; but if corruptible, the very statement shewed it to be false, and revolting." This argument then of Nebridius sufficed against those, who de- sei*ved 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. b See Note A at the end. S. Aug. error, and turn, or rather return, to the frequently uses this argument against the Catholic faith, througli His mercy, who Rlanichees, (e.g.de Morib. Manich. c. 12. allowed me not to be held fast for ever in 0. Secundin. INI. c. 20. de fide c. Man. c. these deceits." Disp. 2. c. Fortun. Ma- 18 and 35.) and when in the conference nich. v. fin. with Fortunatus, the latter had nothing ^ See Note A.^. 2. to answer to it, Aug. subjoins, " I knew d lb. ii. a. that you had nothing to say, and when I <^ \h. iii. a. b. was a " hearer" among you, I could ^ lb. iii. b. never discover what to say ; and this was K lb. §. 2. to me a warning from God to leave that 110 Consciousness of free-agency atid CONF. [III.] 4. But I also as yet, although I held and was ?: : firmly persuaded, that Thou our Lord the true God, who madest not only om* souls, but our bodies, and not only our souls and bodies, but all beings, and all things, wert unde- filable and unalterable, and in no degree mutable ; yet under- stood I not, clearly and without difficulty, the cause of evil. And yet whatever it were, I perceived it was in such wise to be sought out, as should not constrain me to believe the immutable God to be mutable, lest I should become that evil I was seeking out. I sought it out then, thus far free from anxiety, certain of the untruth of what these held, from whom I shnmk with my whole heart : for I saw, that through enquiring the origin Nof evil, they were filled with evil, in that they prefeiTed to think that Thy substance did suffer ill than their own did commit it. y . 5. And I strained to perceive what I now heard, that free- will was the cause of our doingill, and Ti^' just judgment,, of our suffering ill ^. But I was not able clearly to discern it.- So then endeavouring to draw my soul's vision out of that deep pit, I was again plunged therein, and endeavouring often, I was plunged back as often. But this raised me a little into Thy light, 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, T saw that I suffered rather than did, and I judged not to be my fault, but my punishment ; whereby * " Evil is of two sorts, one which a Who neither wills to be able, nor is able man doth, the other which he suffers, to will, to sin." But on this INIanichocus What he cloth, is sin ; what he suffereth, proceeds, " If evil arose out of the fiee- punishment. 'i'he Providence of God will of the rational nature, whence that governing and controlling all things, man numerous tribe of evils, with which we doth ill which he wills, so as to suffer ill see that thejf are born, who have not yet which he wills not." Aug. c. Adim. the free exercise of wilM" — We answer, C.26. We answer the INIanichees, " Kvii " These evils also are derived from the is not out of (ex) God, nor coaBternal will of human nature, which greatly sin- with God ; but evil arose out of the free ning, was corrupted and condemned with will of our rational nature, which was its offspring. Wherefore those so varied created good by Him who is good ; but natural goods of this nature, come from his goodness is not equal to the goodness the woikmanship of God, the evils from of his Creator, since he is not of His His judgments, which evils, they do not nature [as the IManichees tuught] but see, cannot be natures or substances, but His workmanship ; therefore he was under are therefore called natural, because men the possibility, not the necessity of sinning, are born with them, the original stock, But he had not even been under the pos- as it were, being corrupted." Aug. Op. sibility, had he had the nature of God, Imp. c^ulian. Pelag. vi. 5. Iterception of GocVs perfection lighten Ang.\ difficulties. Ill 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 will evil and nill good, so that I am thus justly punished ? who set this in me, and in- grafted into me this j^lant 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 per- verse will, of a good angel became a devil, whence, again, came in him that evil will, whereby he became a devil, seeing the whole nature of angels was made by that most good Creator? By these thoughts T was again sunk down and choked ; yet not brought /flown to that hell of error, (where Ps. 6, 5. no man confesseth unto Thee,) to think rather that Thou dost suffer ill, than that man doth it. [IV.] 6. ror I was in such wise striving to find out the rest, as one who had already found, that the incorruptible must needs be better than the coiTuptible : and Thee there- fore, whatsoever Thou wert, I confessed to be incori'uptible. 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 incormptible is preferable to the corruptible, (as I did now prefer it,) then, wert Thou not incormptible, I could in thought have arrived at something better than my God. Where then I saw the incoiTuptible to be preferable to the corruptible, there ought I to seek for Thee, and there observe " wherein evil itself was;" that is, whence corruption comes, by which Thy substance 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. Nor art Thou against Thy will con- strained to any thing, since Thy will is not greater than Thy power. But greater should it 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 112 Au(/.\s speculatimis on God and the world. CONF. which God is, should not be corruptible," seeing if it were so, ^Ylli 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 do not see, as the firmament of heaven, all angels moreover, and all the spiritual inhabitants thereof But these very beings, as though they were bodies, did my fancy dispose in place, and I made one great mass of Thy creation, distinguished as to the kinds of bodies ; some, real bodies, some, what myself had feigned for spirits. And this mass I made huge, not as it was, (which I could not know,) but as I thought convenient, yet every way finite. But Thee, O Lord, I imagined on every part environ- ing and penetrating it, though every way infinite : as if there were a sea, every where, and on every side, through unmea- sured 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 fi'om that unmeasurable sea: so con- ceived 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 environeth and fuU-fils them. Where is evil then, and whence, and how crept it in hither } What is its root, and what its seed? Or hath it no being .? Why then fear we and avoid what is not .'' Or if we fear it idly, then is that very fear evil, whereby the soul is thus idly goaded and racked. Yea, and so much a greater evil, as we have nothing to fear, and yet do fear. Therefore either is that evil which we fear, or else evil is, that we fear. 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 qreated, all are good. AVlience 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 } Why so then ? Had He no might to turn and change the whole, so that no evil should remain in it, seeing Aiig.,giddeil hy }ioffo?is, though vague, of Catholic truth. 113 He is All-mighty ? Lastly, why would He make any thing at all of it, and not rather by the same Allmightiness 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 eg to -fee 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 Allmighty have effected, that this evil matter should not be, and He alone be, the whole, true, sovereign, and infinite 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 fonn 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 matter 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 Saviour, professed in the Chm-ch Catholic, firmly fixed in my heart, in many points, indeed, as yet unformed, and fluctuating from the rule of doctrine ; yet did not my mind utterly leave it, but rather daily took in more and more of it. 8. By this time also had I rejected the lying divinations and impious dotages of the astrologers. Let Thine own Ps. 106, mercies, out of my very inmost soul, confess unto Thee for ' " ^* this also, O my God. For Thou, Thou altogether, (foi* who else calls us back from the death of all eiTors, save the Life which cannot die, and the Wisdom which needing no light enlightens the minds that need it, whereby the universe is directed, down to the whirling leaves of trees 1) Thou madest provision for my obstinacy wherewith I struggled against Vindicianus ^, an acute old man, and Ncbridius, a young man of admirable talents ; the first vehemently afiirming, 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 conjectm'es were a sort of lottery, and tliat out of many things, which they said should come to jiass, some actually did, unawares to them who spake it, wlio stumbled upon it, through their oft speaking." Tliou ]n'ovidedst then f Seeb. iv. C.3. 114 Tale, whereby Aug. is citred of helief in Astrology. CONF. a friend for me, no negligent consulter of the astrologers ; nor — ' yet well skilled in those arts, but (as I said) a curious con- sulter with them, and yet knowing something, which he said he had heard of his father, wliich how far it went to overthrow the estimation of that art, he knew not. This man then, Firminus by name, having had a Hberal education, and well taught in Rhetoric, consulted me, as one very dear to him, what, according to his so-called constellations, I thought on certain affairs of his, wherein his worldly hopes had risen, and I, who had herein now begun to incline towards Nebridius' 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 tokl me, that his father had been very curious in such books, and had a friend as earnest in them as himself, who with joint study and conference fanned the flame of their affections to these toys, so that they w^ould observe the moments, whereat the very dumb animals, which bred about their houses, gave birth, and then observed the relative position of the heavens, thereby to make fresh experiments in this so- called art. He said then that he had heard of his father, that what time his mother was about to give birth to him, Finninus, a woman-servant of that friend of his father's, was also with child, which could not escape her master, who took care with most exact diligence to know the births of his very puppies. And so it was, that (the one for his wife, and the other for his servant, with the most careful obseiTation, reckoning days, hours, nay, the lesser divisions of the hours,) both were delivered at the same instant ; so that both were constrained to allow the same constellations, even to the minutest points, the one for his son, the other for his new- bom slave. For so soon as the women began to be in labour, 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. Thus then the messengers of the respective parties met, he averred, at such an equal distance from either house, that neither of them could make out any difference in Uie position of the stars, or any other minutest points ; and Aug^'s reflections tJtereo)». 115 yet Fimiinus, bom in a high estate in liis parents' house, ran his course through tlie gikled paths of hfe, was increased in riches, raised to honours; whereas that slave continued to sei-ve his masters, without any relaxation of his yoke, as Firminus, who kncAV him, told me. 9. Upon hearing and believing these things, told by one of such credibility, all that my resistance gave way; and first I endeavoured to reclaim Firminus himself from that curiosity, by telling him, that upon inspecting his constellations, I ought, if I were to predict truly, to have seen in them, parents eminent among their nciglibours, a noble family in its own city, high birth, good education, liberal learning. Bu^jf^ that servant had consulted me upon the same con- stellations, 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 t hings, 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 Finninus had infonncd me falsely, or his father him ; I bent my thoughts on those that are born twins, who for the most pail come out of the w^omb so near one to other, that the small interval (how much force soever in the nature of things folk may pretend it to have) cannot bemoted 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 tlie same luippened not to them. Therefore he must speak falsely ; ox if truly, then, looking into the same figures, he nmst not .-^ive the same answer. Not l>y art, then, but by chance, would lie speak truly. For Thou, O Lord, most righteous Ruler of the Universe, I 2 116 No man k/iows another's sorrows, hut God only. CON F. while consulters and consulted know it not, dost by Tliy ^- ^'"- hidden inspkation effect that the consulter should hear what according to the hidden deservings of souls, he ought to hear, out of the unsearchable depth of Thy just judgment, to Whom let no man say, What is this? Why that? Let him not so say, for he is man. [VII.] 11. Now then, O my 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 beheved 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 Chmxh pressed upon me, Tliou hadst set the w^ay of man's salvation, to that life which is to be after this death. These things being safe and immoveably settled in my mind, I sought anxiously '^ whence was evil ?" What were the pangs of my teeming heart, what groans, O my God ! yet even there were Thine ears open, and I knew it not : and when in silence I vehe- mently sought, those silent contritions of my soul were strong cries mito Thy mercy. TJiou knewest what I suffered, and no man. For, what was that which w^as thence through my tongue distilled into the ears of my most familiar friends? Did the whole tumult of my soul, for w^hich neither time nor utterance sufficed, reach them ? Yet went up the whole to Thy hearing, all which I roared out from the groanings of Ts. 37, niy heart; and my desu'e was before Thee, and the light ^^1 ' of mine eyes w^as not with me: for that was within, I with- out: nor was that confined to place, but I was intent 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 w ell :" nor did they yet suffer me to turn back, where it might be well enough with me. For to these things was I supe- rior, but inferior to Thee ; and Thou art my true joy wdien sub- jected to Thee, and Thou hadst subjected to me, what Thou createdst below me. And this was the true temperament °, 8 " Let the soul, then, reflecting upon to be subjected, above the things over herself, seek, her own place in conformity wliicli she is to be placed; under Him, to her nature, under Ilim to Whom she is by Whom slie ought to be ruled, above Subjection to God the condition of self '-mast enj. 117 and middle 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 J oh 15, tny neck, tcith the thick bosses of my buckler, even these " ' inferior things were set above me, and pressed me down, and no where was there respite 6r space of breathing. They met my sight on all sides by heaps and troops, and in thought the images thereof presented themselves unsought, as I would return to Thee, as if they would say unto me, '' AVhither goest thou, unworthy and defiled .?" And these things had grown out of my wound ; for Thou ^' humbledst the proud like one Ps. 88, that is wounded," and through my own swelling was I sei^a-^,'- rated '' from Thee; yea, my pride-swollen face closed up mine eyes. [VIII.] 12. But Thou, Lord, abidest for ever, yet not for ever ai*t Thou angry with us ; because Thou pitiest our dust and ashes, and it was pleasing in Thy sight to reform my deforaiities ; 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 bedimmed eye- sight of my mind, by the smarting anointings of healthful sorrows, was from day to day healed. [IX.] 13. And Thou, willing first to shew me, how Thou Jam. 4, resistest the proud, but givest grace unto the humble, and by ^* 5 how great an act of Thy mercy Thou hadst traced out to men the way of humility, in that Thy Word was 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 the things which she ought to rule." he whose good is God, would be his own Aug. de 'J'rin. 1. x. c. 5. " For so is she good to himself, as God is to Himself V ordered, in the order not of place but of Aug. de lib. Arb. iii. 24. existences, that above her should be no i This was likely to be the Book of one but Him." lb. 1. xiv. c. 14. " It is Amelius the Platonist, who hath indeed expedient that the inferior should be sub- this beginning of S. John's Gospel, calU jected to the superior, that so he wlio ing the Apostle a Barbarian. Euseb. wishes to have what is inferior to him Praep. Evang. 1. i. c. 10. [Old Ed.] subjected to him, should himself be sub- " When I had read a very few books of jected to what is superior to him." Aug. Plato, whom I hear that you study ea- in Ps. 143. gerly, and had compared with them, as ^ " For pride renders averse to wisdom far as 1 could, their authoritative state- — but whence this averseness, but that ment, who have delivered to us the Di- 118 Knowledge of the Divinity of the Word ivithout CONF. therein'' I read, not indeed in the very words, but to the veiy ^' ^"' same purpose, enforced by many and divers reasons, that In the John 1, Jff,gij2ning was the JVord, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God: the Same was in the begin ning with God: all things were made by Him, and without Him teas nothing made : that which was rjiade by Him is life, and the life was the light erf 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, jet itself ^5 not that Ver. 9. light; but the Word of God, being God, is that true light thai Ver. lo.lighteth erery man that comefh into the world. And that He teas in the world, and the world was made by Him, and the Ver. l\. world knew Him not. But, that He came unto his own,and His Ver. \l,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 ; this I read not there. Ver. 13. 1^- Again I read there, that God the Word was born not of flesh nor of blood, nor of the will of man, nor of the will of Ver. 14. the flesh, but of God '". But that tlie Word teas made flesh, and dwelt among us, 1 read not there. For I traced in those Phil. 2, books, that it was many and divers ways said, that the Son teas in the form of the Father, and thought it not robbery to vine mysteries, I was so kindled, that I Who made the world, by Whom also wished to break away from all those an- itself was made ; and that those superior chors which held me, but for the influence beings derive their blessed life, and light of certain persons." Aug. de \ ita Beata, of understanding the truth, from no other $. 4. source than we ; in harmony with the k All the following contrasts turn on Gospel, where it is written, ' There was this, that the Plutonists had a notion of a a man sent by God — he was not that Divine Eternal Word or Logos, (believ- light.' (John 1, 6 sqq.) By which con- ing Hiin however to be in no sense dis- trast it sufficiently appears, that the ra- tinct from God the Father,) but of His tional or intellectual soul, such as it was humiliation in becoming man, none. in .lohn, cannot be a light to itself, but ' \" Plotinus jexplaining the meaning shines by the participation of another true of Plato asserts, that not even tliat soul light, 'this John himself confesses, when of the universe, whose existence they • bearing Him witness,' he saith, ' Of His believe, derives its happiness from any fulness have we all received.' " Aug. de other source than ours, i. e. that light Civ. Dei, x. 2. comp. 'I'ert. de Testim. which itself is not, but by vvhicii it was animaj. created, whereby, being intellectually il- ^ " Natus est" for " nati sunt." This liimined, it giveth out its intellectual (in- readingoccurs in Irenajus, 1. iii. c. 18 and telligibiliter) light. — This great Platonist 21, (in a third place, he understands the then says, that the rational, or rather passage of the Christian new birth, 1. v. perhaps intellectual soul, (whereto, he c. 2.) Tertull. de carne Christi, c. 19 conceives, that the souls of tlie immortals and 24. Ambros. Pra^f. in Ps. 37 : but and the blessed belong, who he doubteth the received readingoccurs in odier places not dwell in the heavenly mansions,) both of S. Ambrose ami S. Aug. as in the hath no naluroaboveit, save that of God, other fathers. See Subatier ad loc. -11. His humiliation, and His Vicarious sufferings, injures, 119 be equal tvith God, for that naturally He was the Same Sub- stance. But that He emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of men, and found in fashion as a man, humhled Himself, and became obedient unto death, and that the death, of the cross: who, ef ore 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; those books have not. For that before all times and above all times Th^ Only-Begotten Son remaineth unchangeably, co-eternal with Thee, and that of his fulness souls receive, that they may be John i, blessed; and that by participation of wisdom abiding in them, ' they are renewed, so as to be wise, is there. But that in due Rom. 5, time He died for the ungodly; and that TJiou sparedst ffot^' Tliine Only Son, but deliveredst Him for us all, is not there. 32! For Thou hiddest these tilings from the wise, and re vealedst MditAl, them to babes; that they that labour and are heavy laden, ^q' ' might come unto Him, and He refresh them, because He is meek and lowly in heart; and the meek He directeth injudg- Ps.25,9. ment, and the gentle He teachetli His ways, beholding o^/rver. 18. lowliness and trouble, 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 Ale, for I am tneek mslUH, and lowly in heart, a) id ye shall find rest to your souls/^^- Although they knew God, yet tliey glorify Him not as God, nor Rom. \, are thankful, but tca.v vain in their thoughts; and their'^^*'^'^- foolish heart is darkened; professing that they were icise, they became fools. 15. And therefore did I read there also, that they had changed the glory of Thy incorruptible nature into idols and Ver. 23. divers shapes, into the likeness of the image of corruptible ma)i,and birds, and beasts, and creeping things; namely into that Egyptian food", for which ICsau lost his birth-right. Gen. 25, 33. 34. " We find the lentilo to he an Kgyp- the Egyptian food, lost his hirlh-right. tian food, for in Kgypt it abounds; So also the people of the Jews, of whom whence the Alexandrian lentile is highly it is said, " In their heart they turned prized, (cp. Num. 11,5.) and is brought back into Egypt," after a sort longed for even to our country, as if the lentile did the lentiles, and so lost their birth-right, not grow here. Esau, then, by desiring Aug. in Ps. 4t). ^. 6. [ed. Ben.] 120 All truth, wherever found, is from God. CONF. for that Thy first-born people worshipped the head of a four- — 1 footed beast instead of Thee ; turning in heart back towards ille ' 5^8TPt? ^^^ bowing Thy image, their own soul, before the Ps. 106, image of a calf that eateth hay. These things found 1 here, but I fed not on them. For it pleased Thee, O Lord, to take "^om. 9, away the reproach of diminution from Jacob, that the elder should serve the younger: and Thou calledst the Gentiles into Thine inheritance. And I had come to Thee from among the Exod. 3, Gentiles ; and I set my mind upon the gold which Thou •^''^'willedst Thy people to take from Eg^^t, seeing Thine it was, wheresoever it were. And to the Athenians Thou saidst by Acts 17, Thy Apostle, that in Tliee ice live, move, and have our being, as one of their own poets had said. And verily these books came from thence. But I set not my mind oiTtlie Hos. 2; idols of Egypt, whom they served with Tliy gold, tvho changed the truth of God into a lie, and worshipped and 25. 'served the creature more than the Creator. [X.] 16. Ajid being thence admonished to return to myself, I entered even into my inward self. Thou being my Guide : and able I was, for Thou wert become my Helper. Ajid I entered and beheld with the eye of my soul, (such as it was,) " Let every good and true Christian and avoid, but it also containeth liberal understand that truth, wherever he finds arts, fitter for the service of truth, and it, belongs to his Lord." Aug. de Doctr. some most useful moral precepts : as Christ. 1. ii. c. 18. "By whomsoever also there are found among them some truth is said, it is said through His teach- truths concerning the worship of the One ing Who is The Truth." Aug. Ep. 166. God Himself, as it were their gold and §. 9. "Whatever those called philo- silver.which they did not themselves form, sophers, and especially the Platonists, but drew from certain veins of Divine may have said true and conformable to Providence running throughout, and our faith, is not only not to be dreaded, which they perversely and wrongfully but is to be claimed from them, as abuse to the service of daemons. These unlawful possessors, to our use. For the (christian, when he severs himself as the Egyptians not only had idols and from their wretched fellowship, ought to heavy burthens, which the people of take from them for the right use of preach- Israel were to abhor and avoid, but also ing the Gospel. — For what else have vessels and ornaments of gold and silver, many excellent members of our faith and apparel, which that people, at its done 1 See we not how richly laden with departure from Egypt, privily assumed gold and silver and apparel, that most for a better use, not on its own authority, persuasive teacher and most blessed mar- but at the command of God, the very tyr Cyprian departed out of Egypt ? or Egyptians unwittingly furnishing the Lactantiusl or Victorinus, Optatus, Hi- things, which themselves used not Avell ; laiy, not to speak of the living? and so all the teaching of the Gentiles not Greeks innumerable? And this, Moses only hath feigned and superstitious de- himself, that most faithful servant of God, vices, and heavy burdens of an useless first did, of whom it is written, that ' he tod, which we severally, as, under the was learned in all the wisdom of the leading of Christ, we go forth out of the Egyptians.' " de Uoctr. Christ. 1. ii. fellowship of the Gentiles, ought to abhor c. 40. God gives glimpses of Himself to him who enters into himself 121 above the same eye of my soul, above my mind, the Light Unchangeable. Not this ordinary light, which all flesh may look upon^, nor as it were 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 other, yea, far other from all these. Nor was it above my soul, as oil is above water, nor yet as heaven above earth : but above to 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. 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. Thee when I first knew, Tliou liftedst me up, that I might see there was what I might see, and that I was not yet such as to see. And Thou didst beat back the weakness of my sight, streaming forth Thy beams of light upon me most strongly, and I trembled with love and awe : and I perceived myself to be far off from Thee, in the region of unlikeness^, as if I heard 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." iVnd I learned, that Thou for iniquity chastenest man, ps. 39, and Thou madest 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, / AM that I AMJ" And I Exod.3, heard, as the heart heareth, nor had I room to doubt, and ^'^' I should sooner doubt that I live, than that Truth is not, which is clearly seen being understood by those things which Rom. 1, are made. ° As he had thought, as a Manichee. 28. " For the Essence of God, whereby Vid. sup. 1. iii. §. 10 and 12. and 1. iv. He Is, hath in it nothing mutable, wlie- $. 3. and vii. $. 2. " God is light, not ther in Eternity, or in Truth, or in Will ; such as these eyes see, but as the heart for there Truth is eternal, Love eternal j seeth, when thou hearest, ' He is Truth.'" and there Love is true, Eternity true; Aug. de Trin. viii. 2. and there Eternity is loving. Truth lov- P " We were created in the image of ing.'" Aug. de Trin. iv prooem. our Creator, Whose is I'rue Eternity, «1 " By becoming unlike, thou hast Eternal Truth, Eternal and True Love, gone far away; by becoming like, thou and He is the Eternal and True and drawest near." Aug. Pracf. Serm. ad Loving Trinity, neither ' confounded' Ps. 99. nor • divided.' " Aug. de Civ. Dei, xi. 122 Things are, in the degree that they are good. CONF. [XI.] 17. And I beheld the other things below Thee, and — : il perceived, that they neither altogether are, nor altogether are not, for they are, since they are from Thee, but are not, because they are not, what Thou art. For that truly is, which Ps. 73, remains unchangeably \ It is good then for me to hold fast ^^* unto God ; for if I remain not in Him, I cannot in myself; but Wisd.7, He remaining in himself, reneiceth all things. And Thou art * the Lord my God, since Thou standest not in need of my 1. goodness. [XIL] 18. Audit was manifested unto me, that those things be good, which yet are coiTupted ; which neither wxre they sovereignly good, nor unless they were good, could be coiTupted: for if sovereignly good, they were incoiTuptible, if not good at all, there w^ere nothing in them to be con*upted. 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 coiTupted 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 } Therefore, if they shall be deprived of all good, they shall no longer be. So long therefore as they are, ^hey are good : therefore whatsoever is, is good. That evil then w^hich 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 coiTuptible substance ; which unless it were good, could not be coiTupted. I perceived therefore, and it was manifested to me, that Thou madest all things good, nor is there any substance at all, which Thou madest not ; and for that TIiou madest not all things equal, therefore are alP things; because each is good, •■ For that is chiefly lo be said to Be, did our God say to His servant, I am which always exists in one and the same that I am, and " thou shalt say to the way; which is every way like itself: children of Israel, I am hath sent me which can \n no way be injured or unto you ;" for He truly Is, because He changed ; which is not subject to time ; is unchangeable ; for all change causes which cannot at one time be other than that which was, not to Be. He then truly at another. For this is what is most Is, who is unchangeable. Aug. de nat. truly said to Be. Aug. de mor. Manich. boni, c. 19. c. 1. iMagnificently then and divinely ^ And not one only ; goodness is the All created things harmonize. 123 and altogether very good, because oiir God made all things Gen. \, verj/ good. 39*, 21. [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 break in, and corrupt that order which Thou hast appointed it. But in the parts thereof some things, because unharmonizing with other some, are accounted evil: whereas those very things har- monize* with others, and are good; and in themselves are good. And all these things which harmonize not together, do yet with the inferior part, which we call Earth, having its own cloudy and windy sky harmonizing with it. Far be it then that I should say, " These things should not be:" for shoidd I see nought but these, I should indeed long for the better ; but still must even for these alone praise Thee ; for that Thou art to be praised, do shew from the earth, dragons, and all Ps. 148, deeps, fire, hall, snow, ice, and stormy wind, which fulfil ~~ Thy word; mountains, and all hills, fruitful trees, and all cedars ; beasts, and all cattle, creepi7ig things, and fiylng foivls; 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 Tliy angels, all Thy hosts, sun and moon, all the stars and light, the Heaven of heavens, and the waters that he above the heavens, jyralse Thy Name; I did not now long for things better, because I conceived of all: and with a soimder judgment I apprehended that the things above were better than these below, but all together better than those above by themselves. [XIV.] 20. There is no soundness in them, whom auglit of Thy creation displeaseth : as neither in me, when nuicli which Thou hast made, displeased me. And because 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 liad made to itself essence of things, diversity of goodness things invisible to things visible, some their difference. " Since no nature what- things are belter than other, being good ; ever is evil, and the name [evilj beloi.g- being unecjual to this end, tliat they all eth only to privation of good, but from might/**'." Aug. dc Civ. Dei, ii. 22. things earthly to things heavenly, from « ^^^ above, 1. v. c. 1. and note. 124 Evil not a substance, but a perversion. CONF. a God, through infinite measures of all space ; and thought HiZHiit 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 mc, and Ps. 119, closed mine eyes that they should not behold vanity, I ceased ^^' somewhat of my former self, and my phrenzy 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 w^ere all bounded in Thee: but 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 be ; nor is there any falsehood, unless when that is thought to be, which is not. And I saw that all things did harmonize, 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, working, 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 offensive, which to the sound is delightful. And Thy righteousness dis- pleaseth the wicked; much more the viper 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 creatures, by how much they become more like to Thee. And I enquired what iniquity was, and found it to be no substance, but the perversion of the will, turned aside from Thee, O God, the Supreme, towards these lower things, and casting out its bowels'', and puffed up outwardly. / \ ■ See below, 1. xi. c. 13 and 20. Wherefore to swell with pride, this is to X .. «Why is earth and ashesjjroud 1 — pass off into outermost things, and, so to while he liveth he casteth away his speak, to empty itself and so less and less bowels.' Kccli. 10, 9. Since the soul in to be. But to ^ss off into outermost itself is nothing, but whatever is life in things, what is this other than to cast out it, is from God, while it abides in its its iinier7nost parts, i. e, to remove itself assigned place, it is sustained in mind and far from God, not by distance of space, conscience by the presence of God Him- but by the affections of the mind?" Aug. self. This tjien is its innermost good, de Mus. 1. vi. §. 40. Things of sense to he removed, to behold God. 125 [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 ov^ti weight, sinking with sorrow into these 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 tvJtich is corrupted, jrresseth Wisd.9, down the soul, and the earthly tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth ypon^mtny things. And most certain I was, that Thy invisible works from the creation of the Rom. }, world are clearly see?i, being understood by the things that'^^' are made, even Thy eternal power and Godhead, For examining, whence it was that I admired the beauty of bodies celestial or terrestrial; and what aided me in judging somidly on things mutable, and pronouncing," This ought to be thus, this not;" examining, I say, whence it was that I so judged, seeing I did so judge, I had found the michangeable 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, whitherto reaches the faculties of beasts ; and thence again to the reason- ing faculty, to which what is received from the senses of the body, is refen-ed to be judged. "Which finding itself also to be * in me a thing variable, raised itself up to its own under- « standing, 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, y Vid. sup. c. 10. init. Itself, whereby it is so enlightened, that ^ " Phantasms' are nothing else than it may behold all things, whether in itself figments drawn by the bodily senses from or in Ilim, understanding them truly, bodily forms ; which, to commit to me- For that Light is (jod Himself; but the mory, as they have been received, to soul, although rational and intellectual, divide, multiply, contract, enlarge, order, is a creature made after His image, which, disarrange, or in any other way image in when it endeavours to behold that Light, the mind by thinking, is very easy ; but quivers through weakness, and is unable, to avoid and escape, where truth _ is Yet still thence is derived whatever it sought, difficult." Aug. de vera Relig. understands, as it is able. When then c. 10. it is borne away thither, and withdrawn * Distinct from the soul is that Light from the bodily senses, it is placed more 126 Chrisfs humiliation exalts 07}ly the humble. CONF. " That the unchangeable was to be preferred to the change- ^iZlLable;" 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 amved at That Which Is. And then I Eom. l,saw Thy invisihle things understood by the things ivhich are made. But I could not fix my gaze thereon; and my infirmity being stmck back, T was thrown again on my wonted habits, carrying along ^\dth me only a loving memory thereof, and a longing for what I had, as it were, perceived the odour of, but was not 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 embraced 1 Tim.2, that Mediator betwixt God and men., the Man Christ Jesus., Rom 9 ^^"^'^ *^ ^^^^' ^^^' ^^^^ blessed for evermore, calling unto me, 5. and saying, / am the way, the truth, and the life, and g^''"^^' mingling that food which I was unable to receive, with our Ib.i, 14. flesh. For the Word ivas made flesh, that Thy wisdom, whereby Thou createdst all things, might provide milk for our infant state. For I did not hold to my Lord Jesus Christ, I humbled to the Humble ; nor knew I yet whereto His infirmity would guide us. For Thy Word, the Eternal Truth, far above the higher parts of Thy Creation, raises, up the subdued'' unto Itself: but in this lower world built for Itself a lowly habitation of our clay, whereby to abase from them- selves such as would be subdued, and bring them over to Himself ; allaying their swelling, and fomenting their love ; to the end they might go on no further in self-confidence, but rather consent to become weak, seeing before their feet the Gen. 3, Divinity weak by taking our coats of skin^ ; and wearied, 21. expressly in the presence of Tliat Vision, mortal, were dismissed from paradise; then, not in local space, but in a way of but to denote their mortality, they were its own, it sees even above itself That, clothed with " coats of skins ;" — butskins whereby being aided it sees also what- are not taken but from dead animals ; ever, by understanding, it does see in therefore by the name of skins, that mor- itself." Aug. de Gen, ad Litt. xii. 31. tality was figured." Aug. Enarr. in Ps. b " He exalts those who follow hum- 103. s. 1. §. 8. " Those, who ashamed bly, who shrunk not from descending to of their nakedness, had made themselves them w'.ien lying prostrate." Aug. de aprons. He clothed with coats also, Sancta Virginitate, c. 32. therefore of skin, that the death now '^ " A ' skin' denotes mortality; where- attached to their corruptible bodies might fore our first parents, the authors of tlie be thereby figured.*' Op. Imp. c. Julian, sin of the human race, — having become iv. 37. Aug. perceives Christ to he very man, 7iot Very God. 127 might cast themselves clown 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 bom of a Virgin, He seemed, in confonnity therewith, through the Divine care for us, to have attained that great eminence of authority, for an cnsample of despising things temporal for the obtaining of immortality. But what mystery there lay in, " The Word ivas made jiesh^'' I could not even imagine. Only I had learnt out of what is delivered to us in ^^Titing of Him, that He did eat, and drink, sleep, walk, rejoiced in spirit, was sorrowful, discoursed ; that, flesh did not cleave by itself unto Thy Word, but with the human soul and mind. All know this, who know the unchangeablc- ness 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 affection, now not, now to deliver mse sayings through human signs, now to keep vsilence, belong to soul and mind subject to variation. And shoidd 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 tiady, I acknowledged a perfect man*" to be in Christ; not the body of a man only, nor, with the body, a sensitive soul without a rational, but very man ; whom, not only as being a fonn^ of Truth, but for a certain great excellency of human natm'e and a more perfect participation of wisdom, I judged to be prefeiTed before others. But Alypius imagined the Catholics to believe God to be so clothed mth flesh, that besides God and flesh, there was no soul at all in Christ, and did not think that a human mind was ascribed 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 towards the Christian Faith. But understanding afterwards, that this was the error of the Apollinarian ' heretics, he joyed in and was conformed d " The Word, the rational soul, and « As the iManichees thought, the flesh all together is Christ." Aug. *" " —The faithful, I say. who believes Serm. 253. c. 4. and confesses in the Mediator, a real 1 Cor. 11, 19 128 Benefit of heresies to the CJinrch—the ApoUinanan. CONF. to the Catholic Faith. But somewhat later, I confess, did I ILXH- leam, how in that saying. The Word uas made flesh, the Catholic Truth is distinguished from the falsehood of Pho- tinus^ For the rejection of heretics makes the tenets of Thy Church and sound doctrine to stand out more clearly. For there must also be heresies, that the apinoved may he made manifest among the weak. [XX.] 26. But having then read those books of the Plato- nists, and thence been taught to search for incoi^^oreal truth, Rom. 1,1 saw Tliy 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, and yet not diffused in space, finite or infinite ; and 20. human, i, e. our, nature, although God the Word taking it in a singular manner, sublimated it into the Only Son of God, so that He who took it, and what He took, was One Person in the Trinity. For, after man was assumed, there became not aQuaternity, but remained the Trin- ity, that assumption making in an inefl'a- ble way, the truth of One Person in Cod and man. Since we do not say that Christ is only God, as do the Manicha?an heretics, nor only man, as the Photinian heretics, nor in such wise man as not to have any thing, which certainly belongs to human nature, whether the soul, or in the soul itself, the rational mind, or the flesh not taken of the woman, but made of the Word converted and changed into flesh, which three false and vain state- ments made three several divisions of the ApolHnarian heretics; but we say that Christ is true God, born of God the Fa- ther, without any beginning of time, and also true man, born of a human mother in the fulness of time ; and that His hu- manity, whereby He is inferior to the Father, does not derogate from His Divi- nity, whereby He is equal to the Father." Aug. de dono Persev. (J. ult. " There was formerly a heresy, its remnants per- haps still exist, of some called Apollina- rians. Some of them said that that man, whom the Word took, when " the Word was made flesh," had not the human, (i.e. rational) mind, but was only a soul with- out human intelligence, but that the very W' ord of God was in that man instead of a mind. They were cast out ; the Catho- lic Faith rejected them, and they made a heresy. It was established in the Catholic Faith, that that man, whom the Wisdom of God took, had nothing less than other men, with regard to the integrity of man's nature, but as lo the excellency of His Person, had more than other men. For other men may be said to be partakers of the Word of God, having the Word of God, but none of them can be called the Word of God, which He was called when it is said. The Word was made Jiesh." (Aug. in Ps. 29. Enarr. 2. ^.2.) " But when they reflected, that if their doctrine were true, they must confess, that the Only- Begotten Son of God, the Wisdom and Word of the Father, bi/ Wlmm all thiyigs It ere made, is believed to have taken a sort of brute with the figure of a human body, they vvere dissatisfied with themselves, yet not so as to amend, and confess that the whole man was assumed by the Wisdom of God, without any di- minution of nature ; but still more boldly, denied to Him the soul itself, and every thing of any worth in man, and .said that He only took human flesh." (De 83 Div. Qua>st. qu. 80 ) " These too the Catho- lic Church rejected, and expelled them from the sheep, and from the simple and true faith ; and it was the more settled, that that Man, the Mediator, had every thing of men, save sin." (Aug. in Ps. ^- ^/) ^ " The Photinians ascribe to the Son of God a beginning from the virgin's womb, and will not believe that He was before." Aug. Ep. 147. c. 7. See also note e. Heathen truth a guide or a rival to the Gos'pel. 129 that Thou truly art who art the same evcr^, m no part nor motion, varying ; and that all other things arc 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 Saviour, I had proved to be, not skilled, but killed ^ For now I had begun to wish to seem wise, being filled with mine ovm punishment, yet I did not mourn, but rather scorn', puffed up i Cor. with knowledge. For where was that charity building upon^' ^' the fomidation of humility, which is Christ Jesus ? or when lb. 3, 11. should these books teach me it .'' Upon these, T believe. Thou therefore willedst that I should fall, before 1 studied Thy Scrii3tures, 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 ; between those who saw whi- ther they were to go, yet saw not the way**, and the way that leadeth not to behold only but to dwell in the beatific country. 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 have withdrawn me from the solid ground of piety, or, had I continued in that healthful fi^ame 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 venerable writing of Thy Spirit; an d..chi.gfly_ the ApojiilaJ ^aul. Where- upon those difficulties vanished away, wherein he once seemed to me to contradict himself, and the text of his discourse not g " For to Be has chiefly reference to he know not how he is to go, what avails abiding; therefore that which is said in it to know ^hither he is to go?" Aug. the highest and greatest sense to Be, is de Civ. Dei, 1. xi. c. 2. " For what so called from its abiding in itself." Aug. furthers it one, exalting himself, and so de IMor. Manich. c. 6. See above c. xi. ashamed to embark on the wood [of the h Non peritus, sed periturus. Cross], to see from afar his home beyond ^ Non flebam sed inflabar. the sea"? Or what hinders it the liumble, k " For thereby is lie a Mediator, that at so great a distance he sees it not, whereby He is man, tiicreby also He is while he is drawing nigh it on that wood, the way. Since if between him, who whereon the other disdains to be carried?" goeth, and the place, whither he goes, Aug. de Trin. iv. 15. See also Tract. 2. there be the medium of a way, he has a in Job. Evang. hope of arriving ; but if there be not, or 130 Christian truth, not light only hut strength. CON F. to agree witli the testimonies of the Law and the Prophets. ^^- ^^^- And the face of that pure word appeared to me one and the Ps.2,ii.same; and I learned to rejoice with trembling. So I began ; and whatsoever tiTith I had read in those other books, I found here amid the praise of Thy Grace' ; that whoso sees, 1 Cor. may not so glory as if he had not received., not only what he ^' ^' sees, but also that he sees, ( /or 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 healed, to hold Thee ; and that he who cannot see afar off, may yet walk on the way, whereby he may arrive, and behold, and hold Thee. For, Rom. 7, though a man he delighted ivith the law of God after the ,/ ^^ inner man, what shall he do with that other law in his Ver. 23. ' members which warreth against the laiv of his mind, and hringeth him into captivity to the law of sin which is in his Song of members? For, Thou art righteous, O Lord, but tee have ChiU sinned and committed iniquity, and have done wickedly, and dren, 4 xhy hand is grown heavy upon us, and we are justly deli- vered over mito that antient sinner, the king of death ; because he persuaded om* will to be like his will, whereby he abode not Rom. 7, in TJiy truth. What shall wretched man do ? icho shall deliver him from the body of this death, but only Thy Grace, through Jesus Christ our Lord, whom Thou hast begotten coetemal, Prov. 8,and /bn??^f/^/"' in the beginning of TJiy ways, in ivhom the J " By a most, deep and healthful mys- reference to the ' form of God,' it is said, tery, the whole face, and (so to speak) 'before the hills He begat Me,' i, e. before countenance of Holy Scripture is found all the highest of creation, and, ' before to admonish those who duly behold it, the Morning star I begat Thee,' i. e. be- that whoio ginrielh should ^/ori/ in the fore all times and things of time; but Lord." Aug. Enchirid, c. 98. with reference ' to the form of a servant,' " Creasti, from the LXX, txTtffi. S. it is said, * J'he Lord formed ]Me in the Aug. understands the passage (as is beginning of His ways.' For as to the implied in this place,) of the human na- form of Giod He said, ' I am the Truth,' ture of our Lord, and " the beginning of as to the form of a servant, ' I am the His ways,' of the beginning of coming to Way.' For because as the • First-begot- Him. " He who was pleased to give ten from the dead,' He made a way for Himself not only as ihe possession of His Church to the kingdom of God to those who shoidd come to the end, but life eternal, being its Head for the im- also as the way to those who would come, mortality of the body also, therefore He was pleased to take upon Him flesh ; was * formed in the beginning of the whence also is that saying, ' The Lord ways of God towards His works.' For created I\Ie in the beginning of his ways,' as to the form of God, He is ' the Be- that they should begin thence, who wished ginning who also speaketh unto us,' (Joh. to come — from whom all must set off and 8, 25.) in which ' Beginning God made begin their journey, who desire to come heaven and earth.' — As to the form of to the truth and abide in Eternal Life." God, ' He is the first-begotten of all cre- Aug. de Doctr. Christ, i, $. 38. " With ation.' " De Trin. i. j. 24. " The same Plaionism has no reference to nunis wants. 131 prince of this icorld found nothing worthy of death, yet killed he Him°; and the handwriting, which ivas contrary to us, was blotted out ? This those 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 contrite heart, the salvation of the people, the Bridal City, the earnest of the Holy Ghost, the Cup of our Redemption. No man sings there, Shall not my soul be submitted unto God ? for of Him Wisdom which was begotten of God, deigned also to be created among men. Whereto beloiigeth, ' The Lord created Me,'&c.for 'the beginning of His ways' is the Head of the Church, which is Christ clothed with man, through whom an en- sample of life might be given us, whereby to arrive at God." De fide et Synib. §. 6. S. Athanas. in like way, Orat. ii. c. Ariann. $. 47. " The Lord knowing His own Nature to be the Only- Begotten Wisdom, and Production of the Father, and other than things of a produced and created nature, says in His love to man, ' The Lord &c.' as if He had said, the Father ' prepared JMe a body,' and cre- ated Me for man for the salvation of man. For as when we hear John say ' the Word became flesh,' we do not under- stand that the whole Word was flesh, but that it clothed itself with flesh and be- came man, or when we hear that ' Christ became a curse for us,' and that * He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us,' that He became wholly a curse and a sin, but that He took upon Him our curse and bore our sins, (Gal. 3, 13. Is. 53, 4. 1 Pet. 2, 24.) so when we hear in the Proverbs the word ' created,' we may not think that the Word is wholly a creature, but that God created Him ' having prepared for Him,' as is written, a created ' body,' that in Him we might be capable of being renewed and dei- fied." (Comp. de Decret. jNic. Syn. (J. 14.) W^ith regard to the difference of rendering 'iicrKu (•' Syr. Ch.) and Urn- varo (Aq. Theod. Symm. Jer.) it is in appearance more than in reality, for as S. Athanas. argues, (c. Arian. Orat. ii. $. 48. comp. Dionysius ap. Athanas. de Decret. Nic. Syn. $. 26. Hilar, de Synodis, §. 17.) since ' creating,' in the sense of ' making,' is inconsistent with the fact of Sonship, therefore it must be taken in some other sense consistent with it,(asinPs.l01,19.«'50, 12. Eph.2, 15. Eph. 4, 24. Jer. 21. 22.) Wisdom is not here called a creature, though it is said God formed It," (ib.) that the ques- tion does not turn on words, " that the word is a thing indifferent, if the Nature be agreed upon, for words do not destroy the Nature, but rather the Nature draws over and changes the words into itself, for words were not before the natures but the reverse," (ib. $. 3.) " that things created and made are external to the maker, but a son not so, but from the father who begat him ; and a man form? (ktI^u) a house, but begets a son, and one could not convert these and say that the house or ship were begotten by the maker, but the son formed and made by him ;" (de deer. Nic. Syn. $. 13.) and " of human sons, if they be confessed to be sons, it matters not whether the word iyivovTo, (Job 1 , 2.) or 'niTtiff^fivv, (Gen. 4, 1.) or ir«/9jVa, (Is. 38, 19. •'.) be used, for the nature of the case and the truth draw the meaning over to itself. Wherefore if any enquire, whether the Lord is a creature or made, you must first ask ' is He a Son and Word and Wisdom?' for if this be shewn, then all notion of a creature is cast out at once and at rest." Orat. ii. c. Arian. j. 5. The passages then in which the Son is said to be * begotten,' would be, in any case, a key to the meaning of 'ixrtfft in this. I'his argument will equally hold, if as Hilary (de Trin. xii. ^. 36.) seems to do, the passage be interpreted of the Coming forth (T^oiXtvo'i;) of the Son to create the worlds. And so one may ad- mit without scruple that n3p has a sense which may be represented by txT/a-i, 'form- ed, produced* (not simply ' possessed ;') corresponding with ''POb^H v. 24, 25. ' brought forth' and in distinct contrast with ' His t/w/us' (V^VDD), 'I'he mo- dified meaning of tKTKri, ( as of course all words used of Divine truths must be modified) in S. Athanas. corresponds best with that of n3p, which is not one of the words used of proper creation. " See below 1. ix. $. 36. and note. John 14, 32. Col. 2, 14. Ps. 51, 17. Rev. 21, 2. 2 Cor. 5,5. Ps. 116. 12. K 2 CONF, B. VII Deut. 32, 49. 1 Cor. 15.9. 132 Heathenism at best only sees, cannot teach, the icay to God. Cometh my salvation. For He is my God and my salvation, my guardian, I shall no more he moved. No one there hears Him call, Come unto Me all ye that labour. They scorn to learn of Him, because He is meek and lowly in heart ; for these things hast Thou hid from the wise and iwudent, and hast revealed tlient unto babes. For it is one^hing, from the momitain's shaggy top to see the land of peace, and to find no way thither ; and in vain to essay through ways impassable, opposed and beset by fugitives and deserters, under their captain the lion and the dragon : and another to keep on the way that leads thither, guarded by the host of the heavenly General; where they spoil not who have deserted the heavenly army ; for they avoid it, as very torment. These things did wonderfully sink into my bowels, when I read that least of Thy Ajyostles", and had meditated upon Thy works, and trembled exceedingly. " In giving an account of this period to his friend and patron Romanianus, S. Aug. seems to have blended together this and the history of his completed con- version, which was also wrought in con- nection with words in the same Apostle, but the account of which he uniformly suppresses, for fear probably of injuring the individual to whom he was writing, (see below on b. ix. §. 4.) "Since that ve- hement flame, which was about to seize me, as yet was not, I thought that by which I was slowly kindled, was the very great- est. When lo! certain books — when they had distilled a very few drops of most precious unguent on that tiny flame, it is past belief, Romanianus, past belief, and perhaps past what even you believe of me, (and what could I say more?) nay to myself also is it past belief, what a con- flagration of myself they lighted. What ambition, what human show, what empty love of fame, or, lastly, what incitement or band of this mortal life could hold me then ? I turned speedily and wiioUy back into myself. I cast but a glance, I confess, as one passing on, upon that religion which was implanted into us, as boys, and interwoven with our very in- most selves; but she drew me unknow- ing to herself. So then stumbling, hur- rying, hesitating, 1 seized the Apostle Paul; ' for never, 'said I,* could they have wrought such things, or lived as it is plain they did live, if their writings and argu- ments were opposed to this so high good. I read the whole most intently and carefully. But then, never so little light having now been shed thereon, such a countenance of wisdom gleamed upon me, that if I could exhibit it, — I say not to you, who ever hungeredst after her though unknown — but to your very ad- versary, (see on b. vi. §. 24. p. 104. n. q.) casting aside and abandoning whatever now stimulates hnn so keenly to whatso- ever pleasures, he would, amazed, pant- ing, enkindled, fly to her Beauty." (c, Acad. ii. §. 5.) THE EIGHTH BOOK. Aug.'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 S. Antony, and the conversion of two courtiers ; during a severe struggle, hears a voice from heaven; opens Scripture, and is converted, with his friend x\Iypius. His mother's vision fulfilled. [I.] O my God, let me, with thanksgiving, remember, and confess mito Thee Thy mercies on me. Let my ho)fes be Ps. 35, bedewed with Thv love, and let them say unto TJtee, Who is ^^' like unto Thee, O Lord? Thou hast broken my bonds in iq', n,' sunder, L iviU offer nnto Thee the sacrifice of thanksgiriny. 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 / ivas hedyed round job 1 , about on all sides by Thee. Of Thy eternal life I was now ^^* certain, though I saw it in a figure and as throuyh a ylass. \ cor. Yet I had ceased to doubt that there was an incon-uptible ^^' ^^* substance, whence was all other substance ; nor did I now desire to be more certain of Thee, but more stedfast in Thee. But for my temporal life, all was wavering, and my 1 Cor. heart had to be puryed from the old leaven. The Way, the ^' ^" Saviour Himself, well pleased me, but- as yet I shrunk from q, going through its straitncss. And Thou didst put into my mind, and it seemed good in my eyes, to go to Simplicianus*, ^ Minpliciatius ' became a succes- brose mentions his • having traversed the sor of liie most blessed Ambrose, Bishop whole world, for the sake of the Faith of the Church of Milan.' (Aug. Rotiact. and of accjuiring Divine knowledge, and ii. 1.) To him S. Aug. wrote two books having given the whole period of this life * de diversis quivslionibus,' (0pp. t. vi. to daily reading, night and day; that he p. 82 sqq.) and calls him ' father,' (ib.) had an acute mind, whereby he took in speaks of his fatherly affection from his intellectual studies, and was in tlie habit most benevolent heart not lecenl or sud- of proving how far the books of philoso- den, but tried and known," (Ep. 37.) phy were gone astray from the tiuth.' requests his ' remaiks and corrections of Ep. 65. §. 5. p. 1052. cd. IJcn. See also any books of his, which might chance to Tillemont H. E. t. 10. Art. S. Siinpli- fall into his holy hands.' (ib.) S. \\\\- cicn. 134 Holding hack in one point keeps hack a man in all. CONF. who seemed to me a good servant of Thine ; and Thy grace ^♦VI"- shone in him. I had heard also, that from his very youth he had hved 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 wished 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, and another that way. But I was displeased, that I led a secular life; yea now that my desires no longer inflamed me, as of old, with hopes of honour and profit, a very grievous burden it was to undergo so heavy a bondage. Ps.26,8.For, in comparison of Thy sweetness, and the heauty of TJiy house which I loved., those things dehghted me no longer. But still I was enthralled with the love of woman ; nor did the . Apostle forbid me to maiTy, although he advised me to-«bme- - 1 Cor. thing better, chiefly wishing that all men icere as himself was. ' ' But I being weak, chose the more indulgent place; and because of this alone, was tossed up and down in all beside, faint and wasted with withering cares, because in other matters, I was constrained against my will to conform myself to a married life, to which I was given up and inthralled. Mat. 19, 1 had heard from the mouth of the Truth, that there were 12 some eunuchs, which had made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven''s sake : hut, saith He, let him tvho can wisd. receive it receive it. Surely vain are all men who are igno- ' ' rant 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 that vanity ; I had sunnounted it ; and by the common vnX- ness of all Thy creatures, 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 Rom. 1, of ungodly, who knowing God, glorified Him not as God, p^* jg neither tvere thankful. Into this also had I fallen, but Thy 35. right hand upheld me, and took me thence, and Thou placedst Job 28, jjjg where I might recover. For Thou hast said unto man, Prov. 3, Behold, the fear of the Lord is wisdom, and. Desire not to Rom 1 ^^^^ "'^*^ > because they tvho affirmed themselves to he wi^e, •22. Skill of Sitnplicianus. ,135 became fools. But I had now found the goodly pearly which, Mat. 13, selling all that I had, I ought to have bought, and I hesitatecl. ^*^* [II.] 3. To Simplicianus then I went, the father of Ambr^e (a Bishop now) in receiving Thy grace "^, and whom Ambrose truly laved 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, sometime Rhetoric Professor of Rome, (who had died a Christian, as I had heard,) had translated into Latin, he testified his joy that I had not fallen upon the writings of other philosophers, full o{ fallacies Col. 2,8. and deceits, after the rudiments of this world, whereas the Platonists'' many ways led to the belief in God and His AVord. Then to exhort me to the humility of Christ, hidden i\iaf. ii, from the wise, and revealed to Utile ones, he spoke of^^' Victorinus** himself whom while at Rome he had most in- timately 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 noble Senators, who also, as a monument of his excel- lent discharge of his office, had (which men of this world esteem a high honour) both deserved and obtained a statue in the Roman Forum ; he, to that age a worshipper of idols, *> S. Ambrose so ends a letter to him, dwelt among us.'" Aug.de Civ. Dei, * Farewell, and cherish us with a parent's x. 29. affection, as you do.' (Ambr. Ep. 65. ad ^ " Victorinus, by birth an African, Simplic.) ' 1 recognize therein the feel- taught rhetoric at Rome under Constan- ings of ancient friendship, and whicli is tins, and in extreme old age, giving him- more, the affection of fatherly goodness.' self up to the Faith of Christ, wrote some (Id. Ep. 35.) Some conjecture that he books against Arius dialectically [and so] so terms him, as having been prepared very obscure, which are not tiiiderstood by him for Baptism; S. Aug.'s words butby the learned, and a commentary on lead rather to think that he baptized, and the Apostle" [Paul]. Jerome de Viris ' so begat him in the Gospel.' 111. c. 101. It is of the same probably c " Which beginning of the holy Gos- that Gennadius speaks (de Viris 111. c. pel, named after S. John, a certain Pla- 60.) " tliat he commented in a Christian tonist, (as we were wont to hear from and pious strain, but inasmuch as he the aged saint, Simplician, who after- was a man taken up with secular litera- V'ard presided as Bishop over the Church ture, and not trained in the divine of Milan,) said, ought to be written in Scriptures by any teacher, he produced letters of gold, and put up in the most what was comparatively of little weight.' conspicuous places in all Churches. But Comp. Jerome Pra-f. in Comm. in Ga). that God was therefore disregarded as a and see 'i'illemont 1. c. p. 170 sqq. Some teacher by the proud [philosophers] be- of his works are extant, cause ' the Word was made flesh and 136 Uncomprornisingness of SimpUckm effects CONF. 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 ^ : wliom Rome once conquered, now adored, all which the aged Victorinus had with thundering eloquence so many years defended ; — he now blushed not to be the child of Thy Christ, and the new-born babe of Thy fountain ; submitting his neck to the yoke of humihty, and subduing his forehead to the reproach of the Cross. Ps. 144, 4. O Lord, Lord, Which hast hotved tlie heavens and come 5. down^ touched the inountains and they did smoke, by what means didst Thou convey Thyself into that breast ? He used to read (as Simphcianus said) the holy Scripture, most stu- diously sought and searched into all the Christian writings, and said to Simplicianus, (not openly, but privately and as a friend,) '* Understand that I am already a Christian." Whereto he answered, " I will not believe it, nor will I rank you among Christians, unless 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 Simplicianus as often made tlie same answer, and the conceit of the " walls" was by the other as often renewed. For he feared to offend his friends, proud doemon- worshippcrs, from the height of whose Babylonian dignity, as rs.29,5.from cedars of Libanus, which the Lord had not yet broken doicn, he supposed the weight of enmity would fall upon him. ^ut after that by reading and earnest thought he had ga- Luke 9, thcred firmness, and feared to be denied by Christ before the hoty angels, should he now be afraid to confess him before vien, and appeared to himself guilty of a heavy offence, in being ashamed of the Sacraments of the humility of Thy Word, and not being ashamed of the sacrilegious rites of those proud daemons, whose pride he had imitated and their rites adopted, he became bold-faced against vanity, and shame-faced towards the truth, and suddenly and unex- <^ JEn. viii. 698—700. Trapp, 1. 886. complete conversion of Victoi'lnus. 137 pectedly said to Simplicianus, (as himself told mc,) " Go wc to the Church ; I wish to be made a Christian." But he, not containing himself for joy, went with him. And having been admitted to the first Sacrament and become a Catechumen, not long after he further gave in his name, that he might be regenerated by baptism, Rome wondering, the Church re- joicing. The proud saw^ and tcere wroth; they gnashed Vs. 112, uith their teeth, and incited auay. But the Lord God was ' Ps.31 6. the hope of Thy servant, and he regarded not vanities and 40. ^c.' lying madness. 5. To conclude, 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 *^ committed to memory,) the presbyters, he said, offered Victorinus^ (as was done to such, as seemed likely through bashfulness to be alarmed) to make his profession more privately: but he chose f The Apostles' Creed, which was de- livered orally to the Catechumens to commit to memory, and by them ' deli- vered back,' i. e. publicly repeated be- fore they were baptized. " The Symbol [Creed] bearing hallowed testimony, which ye have together received, and are this day severally to give back, are the woids in which the faith of our mother the Church is solidly constructed on a stable foundation, which is Christ the Lord. ' Tor other foundation can no man lay,' &c. Ye have received then and given back what ye ought to retain in heart and mind, what ye should repeat in your beds, think on in the streets, and for- get not in your meals, and while sleeping in body, in heart watch therein. For this is the faith, and the rule of salvation, that ' We believe in God, the Father Almighty, Sec' " (Aug. Serm. 215, in redditione Symboli.) " On the Sabbath- day [Saturday], when we shall keep a vigil through the ijiercy of God, ye will give back not the [Lord's] prayer, but the Creed." (Id. Serm. 58, $. ult.) " What ye have briefly heard, ye ought not only to believe, but to commit to memory in so many words, and utter with your mouth." (Serm. 214, in tradit. Symb. 3. $.2.) " Nor, in order to retain the very words of the Creed, ought ye any wise to write it, but to leain it tiiqroughly by hearing, nor, when ye have learnt it, ought ye to write it, but always to keep and refresh it in your memories. — ' This is l\Jy Covenant which I will make with them after those days,' saith the Lord, ' I will place iMy law in their minds, and in their heart will I write it.' To con- vey this^ the Creed is learnt by hearing ; and not written on tables or any sub- stance, but on the heart." ( Serm. 212. §, 2.) See the Roman Liturgy, (Assem. Cod. Liturg. t. i. p. 1! sqq. 16.) and the Gothic and Galilean, (p. 30 sqq. p. 38sq. 40sq. &c.) ? Here be divers particulars of the primitive fashion, in this story of Victo- rinus. First being converted, he was to take some well-known Christian (who was to be his godfather) to go with him to the Bishop : who upon notice of it, admitted him a Catechumenus, and gave him those six points of Catechistical Doctrine, mentioned Heb. 6, 1. 2. When the time of baptism drew near, the young Christian came to give in his heathen name, which was presently registered ; submitting himself to examination. On the eve, was he in a set form, first to re- nounce the devil, and to pronounce, I confess to thee, O Christ; repeating the Creed with it, in the form here recorded. The time for giving in their names, must be witiiin the two first weeks of Lent : and the solemn day to renounce upon, was Mauntly Thursday. So bids the Council of Laodicea, Can. 45, 46. [Old Ed.] 188 Joy^ by one universal law, CONF. rather to profess his salvation in the presence of the holy 'multitude. " For it was not salvation that he taught in rhe- toric, 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 profession, 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 all the mouths of the rejoicing multitude, Victorinus ! Victorinus ! Sudden was the burst of rapture, that they saw him ; sud- denly were they hushed that they might hear him. He pro- nounced the true faith with an excellent boldness, and all wished to draw him into their very heart: yea by their love and joy they drew him thither; such were the hands where- with they drew him. [IIT.] 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, LukelS, merciful Father, dost more rejoice over one 2^enitent, than over ninety-nine just persons, that need no repentance. And mth much joyfulness do we heai', so often as we hear with what Ver. 5. joy the sheep which had strayed, is brought back upon the shepherd'' s shoulder, and the groat is restored to Thy treasury, the fieighbours rejoicing tuith 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 tvas dead, and lived again; had been lost, and is found. For Thou re- joicest 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 it had ever had them } yea, and other things witness here- unto ; and all things are full of witnesses, crying out, " so is it." The conquering commander triumpheth ; 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 sailors, threatens shipwreck ; all wax in proportion to past fear . 139 pale at approaching death ; sky and sea are calmed, and they are exceeding joyed, as having been 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 nuen ac- \ quire' by difficulties, not those only which fall upon us un- looked for, and against our wills, but even by self-chosen, and pleasure-seeking trouble. Eating and drinking have no plea- sure, unless there precede the pinching of hunger and thirst. Men, given to drink, eat certain salt meats, to procure a trouble- some heat, which the drink allaying, causes pleasui'e. It is also ordered, that the affianced bride should not, at once be given, lest as a husband he should hold cheap whom, as betrothed, he sighed not after. 8. This law holds in foul and accursed joy ; this in per- mitted and lawful joy ; this in the very purest perfection of friendship ; this, in him who was dead, and lived again; had been lost, and teas 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 Thyself, and some things around Thee evermore rejoice in Thee*"? What means this, that this portion of things thus ebbs and flows alternately displeased and reconciled } Is this their allotted measure ? Is this all Thou hast assigned to them, whereas from the highest heavens to the lowest eai*th, 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 ? Woe is me ! how high art Thou in the highest, and how deep in the deepest! and Thou never departest, 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 now love, let us run. Do not many, out of a deeper hell of blind- Cant. 1, ness than Victorinus, return to Thee, approach, and are en- ' lightened, receiving that Light, which they who receive, receive John i, power from Thee to become Tliy sons? But if they be less ^^* >> See below, 1. xii. $. 12. 1. xiii. $.11. 140 Greater joy m co?iversion of the great, well-founded. CON F. known to the nations, even they that know them, joy less for 5il^' them. For when many joy together, each also has more exube- rant joy ; for that they are kindled and inflamed one by the other. Again, because those known to many, influence the more towards salvation, and lead the way with many to follow. And therefore do they also who preceded them, much rejoice in them, because they rejoice 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 before the ignoble ; 1 Cor. seeing rather Thou hast chosen the weak things of the tvorld, 1 27 28 . . ' ' ' 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 1 Cor. are. And yet even that least of Thy apostles, by whose ^' ^' tongue Thou soundedst forth these words, when through his warfare, Paulus the Proconsul, his pride conquered, was made to pass under the easy yoke of Thy Christ, and became a pro- vincial of the great King ; he also for his former name Said, was pleased to be called Paul ', in testimony of so great a vic- tory. For 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. By how much the more welcome then the heart of Victorinus was esteemed, which the devil had held^ an impregnable possession, the tongue of Victorinus, with which mighty and keen weapon he had slain many ; so much the more abundantly ought Thy Mat. 12, sons to rejoice, for that om' King hath bound the strong man, ^ * ,, and they saw his vessels taken from him and cleansed^ and Lukell, "^ . 22. 24. made meet for Thy honour, and become serviceable for the 2 \T* L^^'^-i ^f'^^lo every good work. [ V\] 10. But when that man of Thme, Simplicianus, related to ^ " As Scipio, after the conquest of Apostle had originally two names, (Prajf. Africa, took the name of Africanus, — so in (!omm. in' Ep. ad l\om.) which as a Saul also, being sent to preach to the Roman may very well have been, and Gentiles, brought back his trophy out of yet that he made use of his Roman name the first spoils won by the Church, the Paul, first in connection with the con- Proconsul Sergius Paulus, and set up his version of the Proconsul ; Chrysostom banner, in that for Saul he was called says that it was doubtless changed at the Paul." Jerome, Comm. in Ep. ad Phi- command of God, which is to be siip- lem. init. Origen mentions the same opi- posed, but still may have been at this nion, (which is indeed suggested by the time, relation in the Acts) but thinks that the Evil habits formed by slight acts, but bind as iron. 141 me this of Victorinus, I was on fire to imitate him ; for for this very end had he related it. But when he had subjoined also, how in the days of the Emperor Julian, a law was made, whereby Christians were forbidden to teach the liberal sciences or ora- tory ; and how he, obeying this law, chose rather to give over the wordy school, than Thy Word, by which Thou makesf ^^'»^(1. eloquent the tongues of the dumb ; he seemed to me not more resolute than blessed, in having thus found opportunity to wait on Thee only. Which thing I was sighing for, bound as I was, I 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 fro ward will, was a lust made ; and a lust served, became custom ; and custom not resisted, became necessity. By which links, as it were, joined together (whence I called it a chain) a hard bondage held me enthralled. But that new will which had begun to be in me, freely to serve Thee, and to wish to enjoy Thee, O God, the only assured pleasantness, was not yet able to overcome my former wilful- ness, strengthened by age. Thus did my 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 XQdi(\.,\\o\\ the Jlesh Ivsteth against the spirit and the spirit ^^^'^y against the Jlesh. Myself verily either way ' ; yet more myself, in that^vhich I approved in myself, than in that which in l^om. 7, myself I disapproved. For in this last, it was now for the more part not myself, because in much I rather endured against my will, than acted willingly. And yet it was through me, that custom had obtained this power of waning against me, because I had come willingly, whither I willed not. And who has any right to speak against it, if just pimishment follow the sinner.? Nor had I now any longer my former plea, that I therefore as yet hesitated to be above the world and serve Thee, for that the truth was not altogether ascertained to me;- for now it too was. But I, still under service to the earth, re- fused to fight under Thy banner, and feared as nuicli to be k Against ihc Manichacans, sec above, knowing wliat is right doth it not, sliould iv. $. 26. V. <5. 18. and note A. ii. a. lose the knowledge what is right; and he 1 " For it is the most just punishment who would not do well v\dien he could, of sin, that each should lose what he should lose the power when he would." would not use well ; i. c. that he who Aug. de lib. arb. v. 18. 142 Conviction powerless against habit. CONF. freed of all incumbrances, as we should fear to be encumbered -.: '■ with it. Thus with the baggage of this present world was I held down pleasantly, as in sleep : and the thoughts wherein I meditated on Thee, were like the efforts of such as would awake, who yet overcome with a heavy drowsiness, are again drenched therein. 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 assm^ed, that much better were it for me to give myself up to thy cha- rity, than to give myself over to mine own cupidity ; but though the former course satisfied me and gained the mas- tery, the latter pleased me and held me mastered"'. Nor had I Eph. 5, any thing to answer Thee calling to me, Aivake, thou that ^^' steepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light. And when Thou didst on all sides shew me, that what Thou saidst was true, I, convicted by the truth, had nothing at all to answer, but only those dull and drowsy words, "Anon, anon," " presently ;" " leave me but a little." But " pre- sently, presently," had no present, and my " little while" went Rom. 7, on for a long while; in vain I delighted in Thy law according to the inner man, when another law in my memhers, rehelled against the law of my mind, and led me captive under the law of sin which ivas in my members. For the law of sin is the violence of custom, whereby the mind is di'awn and holden, even against its will; but deservedly, for that it Ver. 24, willingly fell into it. Who then shoidd deliver me thus wretched from the body of this death, but Thy grace only, through Jesus Christ our Lord ? [VL] 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 Ps. 19, Lord, my helper and my redeemer. Amid increasing anxiety, 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. Alypius was with me, now after the third sitting released from his law " Illud placebat et vincebat, hoc libebat et vinciebat. 25 14. Pontitiamis' relation of S. Antony. 143 business, and awaiting to whom to sell his counsel, as I sold the skill of speaking, if indeed teaching can impart it. Nebri- dius had now, in consideration of our friendship, consented to teach under Verecundus, a citizen and a grammarian of Milan, and a very intimate friend of us all; who urgently desired, and by the right of friendship challenged from our company, such faithful aid as he gi'eatly needed. Nebridius then was not drawn to this by any desire of advantage, (for he might have made much more of his learning had he so willed,) but as a most kind and gentle friend, he would not be wanting to a good office, and slight our request. But he acted herein very discreetly, shunning to become known to personages great according to this world, avoiding the dis- traction of mind thence ensuing, and desiring to have it free and at leisure, as many hours as might be, to seek, or read, or hear something concerning wisdom. 14. Upon a day then, Nebridius being absent, (I recollect not why,) lo, there came to see me and Alypius, one Pon- titianus, our countryman so far as being an African, in high office in the Emperor's court. What he would with us, I know not, but we sat down to converse, and it happened that upon a table for some game, before us, he observed a book, took, opened it, and contrary to his expectation, found it the Apostle Paul ; for he had thought it 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 him- self before Thee oTjr God in the Church, in frequent and continued prayers. When then I had told him, that I be- stowed very great pains upon those Scriptures, a conversation arose (suggested by his account) on Antony" the Egyptian Monk: whose name was in high reputation among Thy servants, though to that hour unknown to us. Which when " He was born A.D. 251. See his life ally how highly he was esteemed. Aug. in S. Athanasius, t. i. p. 793 sqq. Tille- speaks of him, ' as a holy and perfect mont H. E. t. vii. p. 46 sqq. History of man, who is extolled as having, without S. Antony in British ^Magazine, t. ix. any knowledge of letters, by hearing p. 41, 168, 277. and the testimonies to learnt the Divine Scriptures, and by the work of S. Athanas. prefixed by the thoughtful reflection understood them.' Bened. p. 785 sqq. which shew incident- De doctr. Christian. Prol. $. 4. 144 History of the conversion CONF. he discovered, he dwelt the more upon that subject, informing — .'and wondering at our ignorance of one so eminent. But we stood amazed, hearing Thy wonderful works** most fully attested, in times so recent, and almost in our own, wrought in the true Faith and Church Catholic. We all wondered; we, that they wxre 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 savour unto Thee, and the fruitful deserts ^ of the wilderness, where- of we knew nothing. And there was a Monastery at Milan '', full of good brethren, without the city walls, under the foster- ing care of Ambrose, and we knew it not. He w^ent on with his discom'se, and we listened in intent silence. He told us then how one afternoon at Triers, when the Emperor was taken up with the Circensian 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 them- selves; and these, in their wanderings, lighted upon a certain Mat. 5, cottage, inhabited by certain of thy servants, x^oor in spirit, ^' of whom is the kingdom of heaven, and there they found a little book, containing the life of Antony. This one of them began to read, admire, and kindle at it; and as he read, to meditate on taking up such a life, and giving over his secular service to serve Thee. And these two were of those whom they style "■ agents for the public affairs. Then ° See Athanas. Vita S. Anton. ^. 54, calls it a diversorium. " I saw a lodging 56 sqq. Tillemont 1. c. art. 7. Brit, of holy men at Milan, not a few, over Mag. 1. c. p. 77 sqq. whom presided one presbyter, a most P " Egypt at ihat lime was flourishing learned and excellent man." not only in men, learned in Christian "" Agentes in rebus. There was a philosophy, but in such also, as abiding society of them still about the court, in the vast wilderness, wrought, through I'heir militia or imploymetits were, to the simplicity of their lives, and th.e sin- gather in the Emperor's tributes: to cerity of their heart, Apostolic signs and fetch in ofTenders: to do Palatina obse- prodigics — so that the Apostle's saying quia, offices of court, provide corn, &:c. was truly fulfilled, ' where sin abounded, ride of errands like messengers of the grace did much more abound.'" Ruffin.H. chamber, lie abroad as spies and intelli- E. ii. 8 " Let them enquire how great gencers ; they were often preferred to a flock llethere collecteth, what a nume- places of magistracy in the province; rous body of holy men and women He such were called principes or magistriarii : hath, who wholly despise the world. S. llieromcxupon Abdias cap. 1. calls That flock has so much increased, that it them messengers: they succeeded the hath banished superstitions even thence." frumentarii. Between which two, and Aug. Serm. 138. §. 10. the curiosi, and the speculatores, there <1 Aug. (de morib. Eccl. Cath. c. 33.) was not much difference. [Old. Ed.J of two CO art iers . 145 suddenly, filled with an holy love, and a sober shame, in anger with himself he cast his eyes upon his friend, saying, " Tell me, I pray thee, what would we attain by all these labours of ours ? what aim we at ? what serve we for ? Can our hopes in court rise higher than to be the Emperor's favourites ? and in this, what is there not brittle, and full of perils ? and by how many perils arrive we at a greater peril ? And when anive we thither ? But a friend of God, if I wish it, I become now at once." So spake he. And in pain with the travail of a new life, he turned his eyes again upon the book, and read on, and was changed inwardly, where 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 those our hopes, and am resolved to serve God ; and this, from this hour, in this place, I begin upon. If thou likest not to imitate me, oppose not." The other answered, he would cleave to him, to partake so glorious a reward, so glorious a service. Thus both being now Thine, were huilcUng the Luke 14. tower at the necessary cost^ the forsaking all that they had, " ~ a?td 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, re- minded them to return, for the day was now far spent. But they relating their resolution and purpose, and how that will was begun, and settled in them, begged them, if they would not join, not to molest them. But the others, though nothing altered from their former selves, did yet bewail themselves, (as he affirmed,) and piously congratulated them, recommend- ing themselves to their prayers ; and so, with hearts lingering on the earth, went away to the palace. But the other two, fixing their heart on heaven, remained in the cottage. And both had affianced brides, who when they heard hereof, also dedicated their virginity unto God. [VII.] 16. Such was the story of Pontitianus ; but Thou, O Lord, while he was speaking, didst turn me round towards myself, taking me from behind my back, where I had placed me, unwilling to observe myself; and setting me before my L 146 Review of Aug. 's past life and self -decej^t ions. CONF. face, that I might sec how foul I was, how crooked and 5iXilI* defiled, bespotted 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 oft" myself, he went on with his relation, and Thou again didst set me over against myself, Ps.36,2.and thrustedst me before my eyes, that I might find out mine iniquity, and hate it. I had known it, but made as though I saw it not, winked at it, and forgot it. 17. But now, the more ardently I loved those, whose healthful affections I heard of, that they had resigned them- selves wholly to Thee to be cured, the more did I abhor my- self, when compared with them. For many of my years (some twelve) had now run out with me since my nineteenth, when, upon the reading of Cicero's Hortensius', I was stirred to an earnest love of wisdom ; and still I was defemng 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 treasm'es and kingdoms of the world, though already found, and to the pleasures of the body, though spread around me at my will. But I wretched, most wretched, in the veiy commencement of my early youth, had begged chastity of Thee, and said, " 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 concu- piscence, which I wished to have satisfied, rather than ex- tinguished. And I had wandered through crooked ways in a sacrilegious superstition", not indeed assured thereof, but as prefemng it to the others which I did not seek religiously, but opposed maliciously. 18. And 1 had thought, that I therefore deferred fi*om day to day to reject the hopes of this world, and follow Thee only, because there did not appear aught certain, whither to direct my course. And now was the day come wherein I was to be laid bare to myself, and my conscience was to upbraid me. " Where art thou now, my tongue ? Thou saidst, that for an uncertain truth thou likedst not to cast off' the baggage of ' Whoso loves himself in his folly, Au^. de Vera Religf. c. 48. will make no progress towards wisdom, ' See above, b. iii. c. 4. nor will become such as he wishes to be, " Manicheism. unless he hates himself such as he is. Self-deceit exhausted, the will resists without self-excuse. 1 47 vanity; now, it is certain, and yet that burthen still oppressetli thee, while they who neither have go worn themselves ont ^vith seeking it, nor for ten years and more have been think- ing thereon, have had their shoulders lightened, and received wings to fly away." Thus was I gnawed within, and exceed- ingly confounded with an horrible shame, while Pontitianus was so speaking. And he having brought to a close his tale and the business he came for, went his way ; and I into my- self. What said I not against myself ? with what scourges of condemnation lashed I not my soul, that it might follow me, sti'iving to go after Thee ! Yet it drew back; refused, but excused not itself All arguments were spent and confuted ; there remained a mute shrinking ; and she feared, as she would death, to be restrained from the flux of that custom, whereby she was wasting to death. [VIII.] 19. Then in this gi*eat contention of my inward dwelling, which I had strongly raised against my soul, in the Is. 26, chamher of my heart, troubled in mind and countenance, I g 'g ^^* turned upon xA.lypius. " What ails us ?" I exclaim : " what is it? what heardest thou.? The unlearned start up and take heaven hy force, and we with our learning, and without ^lat. 6, heart, lo, where we wallow^ in flesh and blood ! Are we ashamed to follow, because others are gone before, and not ashamed not even to follow ?" Some such words I uttered, and my fever of mind tore me away from him, while he, gazing on me in astonishment, kept silence. For it was not my wonted tone ; and my forehead, checks, eyes, colour, 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 living there. Thither liad the tumult of my breast hurried me, where no man might hinder the hot con- tention wherein I had engag;ed with myself, until it should end as Thou knewest, I knew not. Only I was healthfully distracted and dying, to live; knowing what evil thing I was, and not knowing what good thing I Avas shortly to become. I retired then into the garden, and Alyi)ius, on my steps. For his presence did not lessen my privacy; or how could he forsake me so disturbed.? Wo sate down as far removed as might be Irom the liousc. I was troubled in spirit, most L -2 148 How it is that the mind disobeys itself. CONF. vehemently indignant that I entered not into Thy will and SiXilL* covenant, O my God, which all mij hones cried out unto me to enter, and praised it to the skies. And therein we enter not by ships, or chariots, or feet, no, move not so far as I had come from the house to that place where we were sitting. For, not to go only, but to go in thither was nothing else but to will to go, but to will resolutely and thoroughly; not to turn and toss, this way and that, a maimed and half-divided will, struggling, with one part sinking as another rose. 20. Lastly, in the very fever of my irresoluteness, I made with my body many such motions as men sometimes would, l)ut cannot, if either they have not the limbs, or these be bound with bands, weakened with infirmity, or any other way hindered. Thus, if I tore my hair, beat my forehead, if locking my fingers I clasped my knee ; I willed, I did it. But I might have willed, and not done it, if the power of motion in my limbs had not obeyed. So many things then I did, when " to will" was not in itself '^ to be able ;" and I did not what both I longed incomparably more to do, and which soon after, when I should will, I should be able to do; because soon after, when I should will, I should will thoroughly. For in these things the ability was one with the will, and to will was to do ; and yet was it not done : and more easily did my body obey the weakest willing of my soul, in moving its limbs at its nod, than the soul obeyed itself to accomplish in the Avill alone this its momentous will. [IX.] 21. Whence is this monstrousness .? and to what end.^ Let Thy mercy gleam that I may ask, if so be the secret penalties of men, and those darkest pangs of the sons of Adam, may perhaps answer me. Whence is this mon- strousness.? and to what end.? The mind commands the body, and it obeys instantly; the mind commands itself, and is resisted". The mind commands the hand to be moved; and such readiness is there, that command is scarce distinct from obedience. Yet the mind is mind, the hand is body. The mind commands the mind, its own self, to will, and yet it doth not. Whence this monstrousness .f* and to what end.?* It commands itself, I say, to will, and would not command, * For this is the punishment requited turn should not be obeyed even by himself, to the disobedient in himself, that he in Aug. c. advers. Leg. et Proph. I. i.e. 14, Absence of freewill the punishment of former sin. 149 unless it willed, and what it commands is not done. But it willeth not entirely: therefore doth it not command entirely. For so far forth it commandeth, as it willeth : and, so far forth is the thing commanded, not done, as it willeth not. For the will commandeth that there be a will ; not another, but itself. But it doth not command entirely, therefore what it com- mandeth, is not. For were the will entire, it would not even command it to be, because it would already be. It is therefore no monstrousness partly to will, partly to nill, but a disease of the mind, that it doth not wholly rise, by truth up-borne, borne down by custom. And therefore are there two wills, for that one of them is not entire : and what the one lacketh, the other hath. [X.] 22. Let them perish from Thy presence., O God, as Ps.68,2 perish vain talkers, and seducers of the soul : who '' observing Tit. i , that in deliberating there were two w^ills, affirm, that there ^^' are two minds in us of two kinds, one good, the other evil. Themselves are truly evil, when they hold these evil things; and themselves shall become good, when 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. But Epfi. 5, 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; for that they icent hack farther from Tliee, the true Light that 3o\i,\,9, enlighteneth every man that cometh into the world. Take heed what you say, and blush for shame: draw near n7itoPi>.^4,5. Him and he enlightened, and your faces shall not he ashamed. Myself when I was deliberating upon serving the Lord my God now, as I had long purposed, 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 punish- ment of my own*. Therefore it tvas no more I that wrought Kom. 7, it, hut sin that dwelt in me; the punishment of a sin more ' freely committed, 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. y The ]Manichees. a See above, I. vii. §. 5. p. 110, n. e. * See above, b. iv. $. 26. and note A. 150 Two opposing wills in one man do not imply tivo souls. CONF. 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 not that will to be other than good, which draws to them. Wliat then if one of us should deliberate, and amid the strife of his two wills be in a strait, whether he should go to the theatre, or to our church .? 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, as well as theirs, who have received and are held by the mysteries of theirs : or they must suppose two evil natures, and two evil souls conflicting in one man, and it will not be true, which they say, that there is one good and another bad; or they must be converted to the truth, and no more deny, that where one deliberates, one soul fluc- tuates between contrary wills. 24. Let them no more say then, when they perceive two conflicting wills in one man, that the conflict is between 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 ; as when, both wills being bad, one deliberates, whether he should kill a man by poison, or by the sword; whether he should seize this or that estate of another's, when he cannot both ; whether he should purchase pleasure by luxury, or keep his money by covetousncss ; 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 desired, which cannot at one time be acted : for they rend the mind amid four, or even (amid the vast variety of things desired) more, conflicting wills, nor do they yet allege that 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 * St. Paul. Struggle with thejlesh and gradual victor//. 151 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, whither the one entire will may be borne, which before was divided into many. Thus also, when, above, eternity delights us, and the pleasure of temporal good holds us down below, it is the same soul which willeth not this or that with an entire will ; and therefore is rent asunder with grievous perplexities, while out of truth it sets this first, but out of habit sets not that aside. [XI.] 25. Thus soul-sick was I, and tormented, accusing myself much more severely than my wont, roUing and turning me in my chain, till that were wholly broken, whereby I now was but just, but still was, held. And Thou, O Lord, press- edst upon me in my inward parts by a severe mercy, re- doubling the lashes of fear and shame, lest I should again give way, and not bursting that same slight remaining tie, it should recover strength, and bind me the 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 my 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 touched and laid hold of it ; and yet came not at it, nor touched, nor laid hold of it : hesitating to die to death and to live to life : and the worse whereto I was inm*ed ^y prevailed 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 off.? and from that moment shall we no more be with thee for ever ? and from that moment shall not this or that be lawful for thee for ever?" And what was it which they suggested in b Deterius inolitum, quara melius insolitum. 152 Sin, when it dare not openly oppose, secretly hinders. CONF. that I said, " this or that," what did they suggest, O my God? B-Vlll. Let xhy mercy turn it away from the soul of Thy servant. What defilements did they suggest ! what shame ! And now 1 much less than half heard them, and not openly shewing themselves and contradicting me, but muttering as it were behind my back, and privily plucking me, as 1 was departing, but to look back on them. Yet they did retard me, so that I hesitated to bm-st 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 V 27. But now it spake very faintly. For on that side whi- ther I had set my face, and whither I trembled to go, there appeared unto me the chaste dignity of Continency, serene, yet not relaxedly gay, honestly alluring me to come, and doubt not ; and stretching forth to receive and 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 barren, but o. fruitful mother of children of joys, by Thee her Husband, O Lord. And she smiled on me with a persuasive mockery, as would she say, " Canst not thou what these youths, what these maidens can ? or can they either in themselves, and not rather in the Lord their God ? The Lord their God gave me unto them. Why standest thou in thyself, and so standest not? 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 exceedingly, for that I yet heard the muttering of those toys, and hung in suspense. And she again seemed to say, '' Stop thine ears Ps. 119, against those thy unclean members on the earth, that they 85. Old jjjjj^y i^g mortified. Tiiey tell thee of delights, hut not as doth the law of the Lord thy God.''^ This controversy in my heart was self against self only. But xllypius sitting close by my side, in silence waited the issue of my unwonted emotion. [XII.] 28. But when a deep consideration had from the secret bottom of my soul drawn together and heaped up all my miserj^ in the sight of my 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 Voice from heaven, ivhich completes Aug.'s conversmi. 153 from Alypius : solitude was suggested to me as fitter for the business of weeping ; so I retired so far that even his pre- sence could not be a burthen to me. Thus was it then with me, and he perceived something of it; for something I suppose I had spoken, wherein the tones of my voice appeared choked with weeping, and so had risen up. He then remained where we were sitting, most extremely astonished. 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 1 much unto Thee : And Thou, O Lord, how long ? how long, Ps.6, 4. Lord, wilt Thou be angry, for ever ? Remember not our Ps. 79, former iiiiquities, for I felt that I was held by them. I sent up ^* ^* these sorrowful words ; How long ? how long, " to-morrow, and to-morrow ?" Why not now ? why not is there this hour an end to my uncleanness ? 29. So was I speaking, and weeping in the most bitter contrition of my heart, when, lo! I heard from a neighbouring house a voice, as of boy or girl, I know not, chanting, and oft repeating, " Take w]) and read; Take up and read." Instantly, my countenance 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 check- ing 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*^, that coming in during the reading of the Gospel, he re- ceived the admonition, as if what was being read, was spoken to him ; Go, sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor, and Mat. 19, thou shall hare treasure in heaven, and come and /allow me. ' And by such oracle he was forthwith converted unto Thee. Eagerly then I returned 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 Rom. • • 13 13 dru?ikenness, not in chambering and wantojiness, not m strife ^^ and envying: but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, in concupiscence. No « See Athanas. Vit. S. Antonii, $. 2, 2. he was then 18, or, at most, 20. 154 Calm conversion of Alypius. CON F. further would I read; nor needed I: for instantly at the end -J lof 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, or some other mark, I shut the volume, and with a calmed countenance made it known to Alypius. And what was wrought in him, which I knew not, he thus shewed me. He asked to see what I had read : I shewed him ; and he looked even further than I had Rom. read, and 1 knew not what followed. This followed, him that ^^'^' is tceak 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 pui'pose, and most corresponding to his character, wherein he did always very far differ from me, for the better, without any turbulent delay he joined me. Thence we go in to my mother; we tell her; she rejoiceth : we relate in order how it took place; she Eph. 3, leaps for joy, and triumpheth, and blesseth Thee, Who art ^•^- able to do above that which we ask or think; for she per- ceived 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 any hope of this world, standing in that rule of faith, where Thou hadst shewed me unto her in a vision, so many Ps.so, 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. THE NINTH BOOK. Aug. determines to devote his life to God, and to abandon his profession of Rhetoric, quietly however; retires to the country to prepare himself to receive the grace of Baptism, and is baptized with Alypius, and his son Adeodatus. At Ostia, in his way to Africa, his mother Monnica dies, in her fifty-sixth year, the thirty-third of Augustine. Her life and character. [I.] 1. O Lord, I am Thy servant; I am Thy servant, and Ps. ii(>, the soil of Thy handmaid: Tliou hast broken my bonds in sunder. I icill 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 me, and say unto my soul, I am thy salvation. Ps. 35, Who am I, and what am I ? What evil have not been either my deeds, or if not my deeds, my words, or if not my words, 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 emptied that abyss of coiTuption. And this Thy whole gift was, to nill what I willed, and to will what Thou willedst. But where through all those years, and out of what low and deep recess was my free-will called forth in a moment, whereby to submit my neck to Thy easy Mat. 1 1 , yoke, and my shoulders unto Thy light burthen, O Christ ^^^^^ Jesus, 7?ty Helper and my Redeemer ? How sweet did it at once become to me, to want the sweetnesses of those toys ! and what I feared to be parted from, was now a joy to part with. For Thou didst cast them forth from me. Thou tme and highest sweetness^. Thou castest them forth, and for them enteredst in Thyself, sweeter than all pleasure, though not to flesh and blood ; brighter than all hght, but more hidden than all depths, higher than all honour, but not to the high ^ " To every one converted to God, his of things tenij)oral would not he expelled, delights and pleasures are changed ; for but by seme sweetness of things eternal." they are not wiihdravvn, but are changed." Aug.de Musica, l.vi. c. 16. Augr. Pra:f. on Ps. 74. •' For the love 156 Grounds on which Aug. gives up his profession. in their own conceits. Now was my soul free from the biting cares of canvassing and getting, and 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. [II.] 2. And I resolved in Thy sight, not tumultuously to tear, but gently to withdraw, the service of my tongue from the marts of lip-labour : that the yoimg, no students in Thy law, nor in Thy peace, but in lying dotages and law-skirmishes, 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, and having been purchased by Thee, no more to return for sale. Oiu' purpose then was known to Thee ; but to men, other than our own friends, was it not known. For we had agreed among our- selves not to let it out abroad to any: although to us, now ascending from the valley of tears, and singing that song of degrees. Thou hadst given sharp arrows, and destroying coals against the subtile tongue^, which as though advising for us, would thwart, and would out of love devour us, as it doth its meat. 3. Thou hadst pierced our hearts with Thy charity, and we carried Thy words "^ as it were fixed in our entrails : and the examples*^ of Thy servants, whom for black Thou hadst made bright, and for dead, alive, being piled together in the ^ In harvest and vintage- time had the very heart, and no one aimeth better at lavvyers their vacation. So Minutius the heart than he who shooteth with the Felix. Scholars, their Non Terminus, word. "Destroying coals" are good exam- as here : yea, Divinity Lectures and Ca- pies ; as if God should begin to urge on techisings then ceased. So Cyprian, Ep. thee, " Canst thou not this? Why can 2. The Law Terms gave way also to the such an one"? why could such an one? great Festivals of the Church. Theodo- Women have been able, shall men not 1 sius forbade any Process to go out from The rich and luxurious have been able, fifteen days before Easter till the Sunday shall the poor not? See then why they after. For the four Terms, see Caroli have been named ' coals !' Because they Calvi Capitula, act. viii. p. 90. [Old who are converted to the Lord, are alive Ed.] from the dead. But coals, before they c Allusions to Ps. 130, in the old vers, are kindled, are dead. For coals not rendered, " * what shall be given to thee alight, are called dead, but those alight, for the subtile tongue,' i. e. says Aug. ad live, coals. The examples then of many loc. ' whereby to defend thyself against ungodly who have been converted to the it V He answers his own question. Lord, are called coals. Wliat follows 1 ' sharp arrows,' &c. Sharp arrows of the He puts aside ' the subtile tongue,' and mighty are the words of God. God ungodly lips, he goeth up the degree knoweth how to j^hoot arrows into the [steps], he begins to make progress." and why quietly ; Jiow facilitated. 157 receptacle of our thoughts, kindled and burned up that our heavy torpor, that we should not sink down to the abyss; and they fired us so vehemently, that all the blasts of subtle tongues from gainsayers might only inflame us the more fiercely, not extinguish us. Nevertheless, because for Thy Name''s sake which Thou hast halloiced throughout the earth, this our vow and purpose might also find some to commend 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 ob- serving 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 he evil spoke?? of? Rom. 4. Moreover, it had at first troubled me, that in this very^"^' ^^' summer my lungs "" began to give way, amid too great literary labour, and to breathe deeply with difliculty, 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 lay down that burthen of teaching, or, if I could be cured and recover, at least to intermit it. But when the full wish for leisure, that I might see hoiv that Thou a?'t the Lo?'d, arose, and was Ps. 46, fixed, in me; my God, Thou knowest, I began even to rejoice ^^' that I had this secondary, and that no feigned, excuse, which might something moderate the offence taken by those, who d It appears that tlie pain in the chest lingering amid idle things, the storm was of real use to iiim, and so, both which was deemed contrary to me, came grounds being true, Aug. mentions the to my aid? So then so great a pain in one or the other as the cause of abandon- the chest seized me, that, unable to sup- ing his profession, according to the cha- port the toils of that profession, wherein racter of the parlies concerned. To the I was spreading my sails for the Sirens' Milanese he names both ; (inf. c. 5.) isle, 1 cast all over and moored, if but a to Romanianus (see above on 1. vii.c ult. shattered and gaping vessel, in the longed- p. 132. n. 0.) only the pain of his chest, for haven." To Zenobius he writes more " 'J'hese things [this world's good>] were plainly ; (de Ord. i. $. 5.) " For when the in a way to hold me prisoner, though pain in my chest had compelled me to daily discoursing of the vanity of earthly abandon the schools, already prepared, things, unless a pain in the chest had as you know, even without any such compelled me to abandon my boastful compulsion to betake myself to the study profession, and to take refuge in the bo- of wisdom [philosophia] &c." Elsewhere, som of Wisdom ;" (c. Acad. i. 3.) and (Epp-) he says, that he did this, induced to Theodorus de vita beata, $. 4. " What rather by the desire of devoting all his then remained, but that while I was leisure to God. 158 Small kijidnesses repaid hij God to the faithful. CONF.for their sons' sake, wished me never to have the freedom i^lHi 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 w^ould I be contentious. But hast not Thou, O most merciful Lord, pardoned and remitted this sin also, with my other most honible and deadly sins, in the holy water ? [III.] 5. Verecundus was worn down wdth care about this our blessedness, for that 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 wdfe one of the faithful ; and yet hereby, more rigidly than by any other chain, was he let and hindered from the journey which we had now essayed. For he w^ould not, he said, be a Christian on any other terms than on those he could not. However, he offered us courteously to remain at his country-house, so long as we should stay there. Thou, O Luke 14, Lord, shalt rew^ard him iii the resurrection of the just, seeing * thou hast already given him the lot of the righteous. For 3. 'although, in our absence, being now at Rome, he was seized with bodily sickness, and therein being made a Christian, Phil. 2, and one of the faithful, he departed this life ; yet hadst Thou mercy not on him only, hut on us also: lest remembering the exceeding kindness of our friend towards us, yet unable to number him among Thy flock, we should be agonized with intolerable sorrow. Thanks unto Thee, our God, we arc Thine: Thy suggestions and consolations tell us. Faithful in promises. Thou now requitcst 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 ^ S. Aug.'s conversion then was com- ginning of September, A.D. 386. pleted about tlie end of August or be- AhrahmrCa hoaom. 159 rich mountain^, that momitain which yieldeth milk, Thine own mountain. 6. He then had at that time soitow, but Nebiidius joy. 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 be- lieved 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 people 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 Nebridius, 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. So were we then, comforting Verecundus, who soiTowed, as far as ^ *' What mountain should we un- ' S. Aug. does not mean that he did derstand, but the same Lord Chiist, of not know what our Lord intended by the whom another prophet says, 'The moun- title of "Abraham's bosom," but only tain of the Lord shall be revealed on the that the nature of its peace and joys top of the mountains.' This is the must be hidden from us, while in the ' mountain' said to ' yield milk,' (inca- flesh. He uniformly speaks of it in cqui- seatus, lit. ' abounding in curds,') on valent terms, as a hidden place of rest account of the little ones who are by and joy: " bosom," because " detached grace to be nourished as by milk ; the and hidden." Serm. 14. c. 5. Ep. 164. * rich mountain' to slrengthen and enrich §. 7. de Gen. ad Lit. 1. xii. $.63. c. Faust, them by the excellence of His gifts ; for xxxvii. as elsewhere, "that just men de- this same milk, whence curds are formed, parted are at rest in the hidden abodes wonderfully represents grace, in that it of the godly." (de Civ. Dei, c. 13.) flows from the rich stores of the mother's The doubt refers to the character of the inner self, and with a delighting pity, is joys of the intermediate state, since " it poured freely unto the little ones." Aug. is certain, that the souls of the faithful ad loc. The word ClD*33nj in the E. departed live in rest ; (de Civ. Dei. xiii. V. " hic^h," is rendered by the o' rirv^u- ''9-) ^nd yet the consummation of their uim, by Synom. dr^ofioa, from a con- joy '» to be after the resurrection. In like nected meaning of the root. ^ay, S. Gregory of Naz (Orat Fun. in ? See Note 'a. ^* ^ ^*'^'^''-) said, " in Abraham s bosom, h See above, 1*. vi. v<. 17. and note. whatever it be, maycst tliou rest." 160 Aug's occupations in the interval before baptism. CONF. friendship permitted, that our conversion was of such sort ; — '. — 1 and exhorting him to become faithful, according to his measure, namely, of a married estate ; and awaiting Nebridius to follow us, which, being so near, he was all but doing : and so, lo ! those days rolled by at length ; for long and many they seemed, for the love I bare to the easeful liberty, Ps.27,8.that I might sing to Thee from my inmost man'ow. My heart hath said unto Thee, I have sought Thy face: Thy face, Lord, will I seek. [IV.] 7. Now was the day come, wherein I was in deed to be freed of my Rhetoric Professorship, whereof in thought I was already freed. And it was done. Thou didst rescue my tongue, whence Thou hadst before rescued my heart. And I blessed Thee, rejoicing ; retiring with all mine to the villa''. What I there did in writing, which was now enlisted in Thy service, though still, in this breathing-time as it were, panting from the school of pride, my books may witness', as well what I debated with others, as what with myself alone *", before Thee : w hat with Nebridius, who w^as absent, my Epistles" bear witness. And when shall I have time to rehearse all Thy great benefits towards us at that time, especially when hasting on to yet greater mercies? For 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 evened me, lowering the k Of this period, S. Aug. writes, that cuss'ons, and the two books, "de Ordine." he had formed the habit of spending (Retract, i. 3 ) "the beginning or end, generally the "" His Soliloquies, two books, in which, half, of the night, in watching and seek- " being alone, he held a dialogue with ing out truth," " nor do I allow myself, himself, he and his reason, as though by the studies of the young men (his they were two." " In the first book, he young friends whom he was instructing), investigated what sort of person he ought to be taken away from myself." (de Ord. to be who would apprehend wisdom, and i.$. 6.) He states immediately, that "he in the end is an argument, that things, prayed God with ahnost daily weeping, which truly are, are immortal. In the that his wounds might be healed, but second is a long discussion, in which he often upbraided himself as unwortiiy to comes to no conclusion, on the immor- be healed so soon as he wished." lb. tality of the soul." (Retr. i. 4.) As a $. 29. supplement to this, he wrote shortly after, J These are, the three disputations at Milan, a book on the Immortality of against the Academics, the substance of the soul, (0pp. t. i. p, 387.) which got the viva voce discussion of a few days, out against his will, and of whose obscu- shortly after he had gone into the country, rity himself complains. (Retr. i. 1.) (c. Acad. i. §. 4.) His book, de Vita " Some, with the Epp. of Nebridius, Beata, begun on his birth-day, Nov. 15. are still extant, Ep. iii. xiv. ed. Ben. ($.6.) and finished in three days' dis- Effects of the Psalms on Aug. 161 mountains and hills o/ my high imagiiiations, straighteyiing my crookedness, and smootJiing my rough ways; and how Thou also subduedst the brother of my heart, Alypius, unto the Name of Thy Only Begotten, our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, which he w^ould not at first vouchsafe to have in- serted in our writings. For rather would he have them savour of the lofty cedars of the Schools, which the Lord Ps.'i9,5. hath now broken down, than of the wholesome herbs of the Church, the antidote against serpents. 8. Oh in what accents spake I unto Thee, my God, when! I read the Psalms of David, those faithful songs, and sounds; of devotion, which allovv of no swelling spirit, as yet a Cate- chumen, and a novice in Thy real 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. Oh, what accents did I utter unto Thee in those Psalms, and how was I by them kindled towards Thee, and on fire to rehearse them, if possible, through the whole world, against the pride of mankind. And yet they are sung through the whole world, nor can any hide P3.\9, 6. himself from Thy heat. With what vehement and bitter sorrow was T angered at the Manichees ! and again I pitied them, for that they knew not those Sacraments, those medi- cines, and were mad against the antidote, which might have recovered them of their madness. How I would they had then been somewhere 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 right eo us? f ess heard me; inPs.4, i. tribulation Thou enlargedst me. Hare mercy upon me, O^^^^ Lord, and hear my prayer. Would that what I uttered on these words, they could hear, without my knowing whether they heard, lest they should think I spake it for their sakes ! Because 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 tliem, 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 M 16*2 Application of the fourth Psalm to himself, CONF. with rejoicing in Thy mercy, O Father ; and all issued forth — L_i_L both by mine eyes and voice, when Thy good Spirit turning Ps. 4, 2. 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 Ver. 3, loved vanity, and sought after leasing. And Thou, O Lord, Eph. 1, hadst already magnified Thy Holy One, raising Him from the ' dead, and setting Him at Thy right hand, whence from on A'd. 5o\m Jiigh He should send His promise, the Comforter, the Spirit 1^' ^^' of truth. And He had already sent Him, but I knew it not; Acts 2, He had sent Him, because He was now magnified, rising *~ ' again fi-om the dead, and ascending into heaven. For till John 7, then, tJie Spirit was not yet given, because Jesus was not yet glorified. And the prophet cries out, Hoiv long, slow of heart? why do ye love vanity, and seek after leasing ? Knoiv this, that the Lord hath magnified his Holy One. He cries out, How long 9 He cries out, Know this: and I so long, not 'knowing, loved vanity, and sought after leasing: and there- fore I heard and trembled, because it was spoken unto such as I remembered myself to have been. For in those phan- toms 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 remembrance. Which would they had heard, who yet love vanity and seek after leasing ! They would perchance have been troubled, and have vomited it up ; and Thou wouldest hear them when they cried nnto Tliee ; for by a true ° death in the flesh did He die Rom. 8, for us, who now intercedeth unto Thee for ns. Eph 4 10. I further read, Be angry ^ and sin not. And how was I 26. moved, O my God, who had now learned to be angry at myself for things past, that I might not sin in time to come ! Yea, to be justly angry ; for that it was not another nature p of a people of darkness which sinned for me, as they say who are not Rom. 2, angry at themselves, and treasure np wrath against the day of wrath, and of the revelation of Thy just judgment. Nor were my good things'"- now without, nor sought with the eyes of flesh in that earthly sun ^ ; for they that would have j oy from without soon become vain, and waste themselves on the things seen, *> See Note A. $. iii. things. P See ib. $. ii. a. r ggg ib. iii. 6. 1 Ver. 6, Who will shew us good and sorrow for the Manichees. 163 and temporals and in their famished ' thoughts do lick their very shadows. Oh that they were wearied out with their famine", and said, IVJio uill she fa us (jood iJiutgs? And we would say, Ps. 4, e. and they hear, Tlie licjJtt of Thy countenance is sealed upon^^'^*^- us. For we are not that light which en ligh tenet h every manA^^^ ^' but we are enlightened by Thee ; that havimj heen so)netimes Eph.5,8. darkness, we may he light in Thee. Oh that ihey could see ^ the eternal Internal, which having tasted, I was grieved that I could not shew It them, so long as they brought me their heart in their eyes, roving abroad from Thee, while they said, Ps. 4, 6. WIto will shew us good things ? For there, where I was angry within myself in my chamber, where I was inwardly pricked, where I had sacrificed, slaying my old man and Ver. 5. 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 in my heart. And I cried out, as I read Ver. 7. this outwardly, finding it inwardly. Nor would I be multi- plied" with worldly goods; wasting away time, and wasted by time ; whereas 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 » While the fair changes of the seasons accomplish their order, the fornns which men love, forsake them. Aug. de Vera Rel. c. 20. Space presents us things to love, time removes the thing's we love ; and leaves in the soul crowds of phantoms, whereby longing is excited first to one, then to another. Thus the mind becomes disquieted and full of care, in vain striv- ing to hold the things whereby it is held, lb. c. 35. ^ Whose life is nothing else than to gaze, to strive, to eat, to drink, to sleep, and in their thoughts but to embrace phantastic images, which they derive from that life. lb. c. 54, " For they who being famished, think that they abound, and being most empty, think thev are full, are not converted. Aug. in Ps. 67. ^ For the multiformity of temporal things did by the senses distract fallen man from the Unity of God, and multiply his affections through an ever-changing variety. Thus therearose a toilsome abun- dance, or, so to speak, a copious want, while he follows one thing after another, and none abides with him. Thus " from the time of his corn, wine, and oil, he was " multiplied," so as not to find the " Self- Same," i. e. that unchangeable and One Nature, which reaching after he would not err, and reaching to he would not grieve. Aug. de \'era Rel. c. 21. For " multiplying ' does not always denote fulness, but ra'.her, more often, poverty ; since the soul when given up to temporal pleasures, is ever inflamed with desire, nor c?x\ be sali-fi-d, but, distracted by manifold and toilsome thoughts, is not permitted to see the Simple Good, as it is said, " the earthly habitation pressetli down the mind thinking on many ihings." (Wisd. 9.) Such a ^oul, by the coming and going of temporal goods, (i. e. '■ from the time of their corn, wine, and oil,") filled with numberless phantoms is 60 " multiplied" that it cannot do what is commanded," in simplicity of heart seek Ilim." (Wisd. 1,1.) For tliat multi- plicity is strongly opi'ostd to this sim- plicity. For we ought to stand alone and single, i. e severed from the multi- tude and crowd of things born and de- caying, lovers of eterniiy and of unity, if we desire to cleave to our One God and Lord. Aug. in Ps. 4. M 'J 164 Hisfaiih strengthened by deliverance from pain on prayer. CONF. next verse, O in peace, O for The Self-Same ! O what said he, / ivill lay me down and sleep \ for who shall hinder us, when ^ ' ' Cometh to pass that saying which is written, Death is swallowed 16,54. 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 Thee, nor are we to seek those many other things, which are not what Thou art : but Thou, Lord, alone hast made me dwell in hope. I read, and kindled ; nor found I what to do to those deaf and dead, of whom myself 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 Scriptiu'e. 12. When shall I recall all which passed in those holy-days.? Yet neither have I forgotten, nor w^U I pass over the severity of Thy scourge, and the wonderful swift- ness 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 devotion 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 experienced the like. And the power of Thy Nod was deeply conveyed to me, and rejoic- ing in faith, I praised Thy Name. And that faith suffered me not to be at ease about my past sins, w^hich were not yet 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 y It is not said, either " 1 have slept mented with a very sharp pain in my and taken my rest," or " I sleep and teeth, which allowed me only to revolve take my rest," but " 1 shall sleep and in my mind things which I had already shall take my rest." Then " shall this learnt, but disabled me wholly from coriuptible be clothed with incorruption, learning, for which I required the whole and this mortal shall be clothed with im- energy of my mind; yet it seemed to me, mortality." " Then shall death be swal- as if, should that effulgence of truth dis- lowed up in victory." Id. ib. close itself to my mind, I should either * Bodily pain I only fear greatly, be- not feel that pain, or bear it as nothing, cause it hinders me from investigation. Aug. Soliloq. i. $.21. For although in those days T was tor- Characters of Alypius and Adeodatus. 165 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 Ambrose, 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 recommended Isaiah" the Prophet: 1 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 imagin- ing the whole to be like it, laid it by, to be resumed when better practised in our Lord's own words. [VI.] 14. Thence, when the time was come, wherein I was to give in my name '', we left the country and returned to Milan. It pleased Alypius also to be with me born again in Thee, being already clothed with the humility befitting Thy Sacraments; and a most valiant tamer of the body, so as, with unwonted venture, to wear the frozen ground of Italy w^ith his bare feet. We joined with us the boy Adeodatus, born after the flesh, of my sin. Excellently hadst Thou made him. He was not quite fifteen'^, and in wit surpassed many grave and learned men. I confess unto Thee Thy gifts, O Lord my God, Creator of all, and abundantly able * Isaiah, amid the reproof of sin and of the table of the Lord and drink of His commands of righteousness and predic- cup?' But what is done through the tions of ill to the sinful people, also pro- whole time, in which it has been whole- phesied far more than the rest, of Christ somely provided by the Church, that they and the Church, i. e. of the King and who come to the Name of Christ should the city which He founded, so that be received into the order of Catechu- bysome He is called an Evangelist rather mens, this is done much more diligently than a Prophet. Aug. de Civ. Dei, and earnestly in these days, during which xviii. 29. they are called Competentes, after they b They were baptized at Easter, and have given in their names to receive Bap- gave up their names before the second tism." Aug. de fid. et op. <$. 9. Of him- Sunday in Lent: the rest of which, they self, Aug. there says, " Do we so deny were to spend in fasting, humility, prayer, our own experience, as not to recollect and being examined in the scrutinies, how intent and anxious we ourselves TertuU. lib. de Bapt. cap. 20. Therefore were about the teaching of those who went they to Milan, that the Bishop catechized us, when we were seeking the might see their preparation. Adjoining sacrament of that fountain, and were to the cathedrals, were there certain hence called Competentes ( Seekeis) ?" lower houses for thtm to lodge and be "^ An answer of his is preserved in the exercised in, till the day of baptism, de Vita Beata, $. 18. " He is truly Euseb. 1. X. c. 4. [Old Ed.] See Bing- j^haste (castus, see above,) who waits on ham, 1. X. c. 2. $. 6. " What else do God, and keeps himself to Him only." they the whole time, that they hold the Aug. there says of him, " There was also place and name of Catechumens, but with us, in age the youngest of all, but hear what should be the faith and life of whose talents, if affection deceives me not, a Christian, that when they have ' ex- promise something great, my son Adeo» amined themselves, they may then eat datus." ib. $. 6. 166 Church-music brought to the West thro' persecution ofAmhr. CONF. to reform our deformities : for I had no part in that boy, but -— — '- the sin. * For that we brought him up in Thy discix^line, it was Thou, none else, had inspired us with 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 sixteenth year. Much besides, and yet more admirable, I found in him. That 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 child- hood or youth, or his whole self. Him we joined with us, our contemporary in grace, to be brought up in Thy disci- pline ; 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 coun- sels 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 Chiu'ch ! The voices flowed into mine ears, and the Truth distilled into my heart, whence the affections of my devotion overflowed, 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 brethren zeal- ously joining with harmony of voice and hearts. For it was a year, or not much more, that Justina, mother to the Emperor Valentinian, a child, persecuted^ Thy servant Ambrose, in favour of her heresy, to which she was seduced by the Arians. The devout people kept watch in the Church, ready tl De Magistro, " in which it is dis- words or works, 1 have both myself ex- puted, and sought, and found, that there perienced, and the whole Roman world IS no master, who teacheth man know- hesitates not to proclaim with me." Aug. ledge, but God, according to that also c. Julian. Pelagian, i. ^. 10. cf. de which is written in the Gospel, ' one is Nupliis etConcupisc. $. ult. and p]p, 147. your Master, Christ."* Retract, i. 12. c. 23. It is exslant, 0pp. Aug. t. i. *" To induce him to give up to the ^ Aug. was baptized by S. Ambrose Arians a Church, the Portian Basilica himself. " Hear another excellent stew- without the walls ; afterwards she asked ard of God, whom I venerate as a father; for the new Basilica within the walls, for ' in Christ Jesus he begat me through which was larger. See Ambrose, Epp. the Gospel,' and through him, as the min- 20 — 22. Serm. c. Auxentium de Basilicis isler of Christ, I received ' the washing of tradendis, pp. 852 — 880. ed. Bened. ep. regeneration ;' — I mean the blessed Am- Tillemont. Hist. Keel. S. Ambroise Art. brosc, whose graces, constancy, labours, 44 — 48. p. 76 — 82. Valentinian was then perils fur the Catholic faith, whether ia at Milan. See below, p» 168, note k. Miracles ivrouyht in his behalf. 167 to die with their Bishop Thy servant. There my mother Thy handmaid, bearing a chief part of those anxieties and watchings, Hved for prayer. We, yet unvvarmed by the heat of Thy Spirit, still were stiri'ed 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 sorrow : and from that day to this the custom is retained, divers, yea, almost all Thy congre- gations, 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 Protasius" 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 woman, but an Empress. For when they were discovered and dug up, and with due honour translated to the Ambrosian Basilica, not only they who were vexed with unclean spirits' (the devils confessing themselves) were cured, but a certain man, who had for many years been blind'', a citizen, and well known to g Ignatius, who lived An, Christ. 100, sword ; " their head was separated from mentions singing in the Eastern Churches, the shoulders." Ambrose, 1. c. Epist. ad Rom. 2. vid. Soar. Hist. vi. 8. ^ The Arians did not deny this, but Quire-men only were to sing in the said that " that venerable man Ainbrose Church, Anno 3fi4. Concil. Laodic. bribed men to feign that they were vexed Can. 15. [Old Ed.] with unclean spirits." Paullinus (the h They were martyrs long before the notary of S. Ambrose), 1. c. §. 15. time oT S. Ambrose, since he speaks of ^ Ambrose, in a sermon at this time " finding two men, of wondrous size, as before a large congregation, dwells at was the case in old times. " Ep.22. 5.2. length on this miracle, 1. c. §. 17. Aug. says that" it is well known thatthey " They [the Arians] deny that the blind suffered long after the most blessed Ste- man received sight, but he does not deny phen." (Serm. 318.) " They lay hid that he was cured. He says ' I have under an unhonoured turf,'" (Ambr. ib.) ceased to be blind,' and proves it by the " so that all walked over their bodies, fact, Thev deny the mercy, who cannot who wished to go to the rails, whereby deny the fact. He is a well-known man; the tombs of ttie martyrs SS. Nabor and when well, was employed in public ser- Felix were protected from injury," (Paul- vices, by name Severus, in othce a lin. Vit. S. Ambros. §. 14.) until " they butcher. He had laid aside his office were made known in a dream to Am- when this hindrance happened. He calls brose and found by him," (Aug.de Civ. to witness those, by whose benevolence Dei, 1. xxii. c. 8. §. 2.) Afterwards, he was before supported ; he calls them •' old men recollected that they had for- as witnesses of his visitation, whom he raerly read their names and inscriptions." had as witnesses of his blindness. He Ambrose, ib. Most suppose that they says aloud, that when he touched the suffered under Nero. See Tillemont, H. hem of the garment of the martyrs, where- E. t. ii. Art. S. Gervais and S. Protais, with the sacrod remains are covered, his and notes, ib. They were Roman citi- sight was restored. Is not this like what zens, since their martyrdom was by the we read in the Gospel ? — Their obstinacy 168 A blind man restored to sight, and its effects. CONF. the city, asking and hearing the reason of the people's cori- — — - fused joy, sprang forth, desiring his guide to lead him thither. Led thither, he begged to be allowed to touch with his Ps. 11 6, 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 enemy, though not turned to the soundness of believ- ing, 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.? which great though they be, I had passed by Cant. l,in forge tfulness. And yet then, when the odour of Thy oint- ments was so fragrant, did we not 7'un after Thee. There- fore did I more weep among the singing of Thy Hymns, fonnerly sighing after Thee, and at length breathing in Thee, as far as the breath may enter into this our house of grass. Ps. 68, [VIII. ] 17. Thou that makest men to dwell of one mind in one house, didst join with us Euodius also, a young man of our own city. Who being an officer of Court', was before us converted to Thee and baptized : and quitting his secular warfare, girded himself to Thine. We were together"'. is more detestable than that of the Jews, for his whole life serve in that basilica. They, when they doubted, asked at least where their bodies are. We rejoiced that his parents: these enquire in secret, in he saw, we left him serving." (Serra. public deny; shewing thereby that they 286. $. 4.) Paullinus, who relates the disbelieve not the deed, but its Author." same, says, " To this very time he lives, Aug:, mentions the same miracle among as a religious, in the same basilica, which those of his own days, which "could come is called the Ambrosian, whither the to the knowledge of many, because the bodies of the martyrs were removed." city is a large one, and the Emperor was 1. c. §. 14. then there, and it took place in the pre- ' See above on 1. viii. c. 15. sence of an immense multitude, thronging "» In this interval, before he returned to the bodies of the martyrs Protasius and to Africa, S. Aug. wrote the two books, Gervasius." (de Civ. Dei, 1. xxii. c. 8. de Moribus Ecclesia Catholicae, and de ^.2.) " Of which so great glory of the Moribus Manichaeorum, (to repress martyrs, I also was a witness. I was the JNIanichaean boasifulness of a false there, was at Milan: I knew the miracles and fallacious continence or abstinence, wrought, God bearing witness to ' the wherein, to deceive the unskilful, they precious death of His saints,' so that set themselves above true Christians, to through those miracles, that ' death was whom they are not to be compared ;" precious,' now not ' in the sight of the Retr. i. 7.) and the " de animae quau- Lord' only, but in the sight of men. titate," to prove it incorporeal, (ib. c. 8.) A blind man, very well known to the and the first of the three books, de libero whole city, ran, caused himself to be led, arbitrio, to shew that evil had its origin returned without one to lead him. We no otherwise than in the free choice of have not heard of his death ; perhaps he the will. ib. c. 9. still lives. He made a vow that he would Death of Aug.'' s mother and her early life. 169 about to dwell together in our devout purpose. We sought where we might serve Thee most usefully, and were together returning to Africa : whitherward being as far as Ostia, my mother departed this life. Much I omit, as hastening much. Receive my confessions and thanksgivings, O my God, for innumerable things whereof I am silent. But I will not omit whatsoever my soul would bring forth concerning that 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 a one should come from them. And the sceptre of Thy Christ, the discipline of Thine only Son, in a Christian house, a good member of Thy Church, educated her in Thy fear. Yet for her good discipline, was she wont to commend not so much her mother's diligence, as that of a certain de- crepit maid-servant, who had carried her father when a child, as little ones use to be caiTied at the backs of elder girls. For which reason, and for her great age, and excellent conversation, was she, in that Christian family, well respected by its heads. Whence also the charge of her master's daugh- ters was entrusted to her, to which she gave diligent heed, restraining them earnestly, when necessar}^, with a holy severity, and teaching them wdth 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 you 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 drinking will abide." By this method of instruction, and the authority she had, she refrained the greediness of childhood, " Aug. thus addressed his mother, de to desire, through thy prayers I shall vita beata," You, through whose prayers attain;" and says of her, "chiefly my I undoubtingly believe and affirm, that mother, to whom, I believe, I owe all God gave me that mind that I should which in me is life," and long after, (de prefer nothing to the discovery of truth, dono persev. §. 35.) " that to the faithful wish, think of, love, nought besides. Nor and daily tears of my mother, I was do 1 fail to believe, that this so great granted, that I should not perish." good, which, through thee, I have come 170 One harsh word an instrument of God's mercy to her. CONF. and moulded their very thirst to such an excellent moderation, — — 1 that what they should not, that they would not". 18. And yet (as Thy handmaid told me her son) there had crept upon her a love of wine. For when (as the manner was) she, as though a sober maiden, was bidden by her parents to draw wine out of the hogshead, holding the vessel under the opening, before she poured the wine into the flagon, she sipped a little with the tip of her lips; for more her in- stinctive feelings refused. For this she did, not out of any desire of drink, but out of the exuberance of youth, whereby it boils over in mirthful freaks, which in youthful spirits are wont to be kept under by the gravity of their elders. And Ecclus. thus by adding to that little, daily httles, [for ivhoso despheth ' ' little things, shall fall by little and little,) she had fallen into such a habit, as greedily to drink off her little cup brim-full almost of wine. Where was then that discreet old woman, and that her earnest countemianding .? Would aught avail against a secret disease, if Thy heahng hand, O Lord, watched not over us ? Father, mother, and governors absent, Thou present, who createdst, 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 a 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 she, stung to the quick, saw the foulness of her fault, and instantly condemned and forsook it. As flattering friends pervert, so reproachful enemies mostly coiTect. Yet not what by them Thou doest, but what themselves purposed, dost Thou repay them. For she in her anger sought to vex her young mistress, not to amend her; and did it in private, either for that the time and place of the quarrel so found them ; or lest herself also should have anger, for discovering it thus late. But Thou, Lord, Governor of all in heaven and earth, who turnest to Thy pm-poses the deepest currents, and the ruled turbulence ° Nee liberet, quod non liceret. Her conduct to her husband. 171 of the tide of times'', didst by the very unhealthiness of one soul, heal another ; lest any, when he observes this, sliould 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 Tlice to her parents, than by her parents to Thee, so soon as she was of marriageable age, being bestowed upon a husband, she served him as her lord ; and did her diligence to win him unto Thee, preaching Thee unto him by her conversation ; by which Thou omamentedst her, making her reverently amiable, and admirable unto her husband. 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 besides this, he was fervid, as in his affections, so in anger : but she had learnt, not to resist an angry husband, not in deed only, but not 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 shame, would in familiar talk blame their husbands' Hves, she would blame their tcmgues, giving them, as in jest, earnest advice ; " That from the time they heard the mamage writ- ings read to them, they should account tliem as indentures, whereby they were made servants ; and so, remembering their condition, ought not to set themselves up against tlieir lords." And when they, knowing what a choleric husband she endured, marvelled, that it had never been heard, nor by any token perceived, that Fatricius had beaten his wife, or that there had been any domestic difference between them, even for one day, and confidentially asking the reason, she taught them her practice above mentioned. Those wives who observed it found the good, and returned thanks ; those who observed it not, fomid no relief, and suffered. P Many things are done by the wicked will, tend to those results or ends which against the will of God ; but He is of so Himself foreknew to be good and just, great wisdom and power, that all things, Aug. de Civ. Dei, 1. xxii. c. 2. even those which seem opposed to His 172 Her enduring meekness and peace -making. 20. Her mother-in-law also, at first by whisperings of evil servants incensed against her, she so overcame by observance and persevering endurance and meekness, that she of her own accord 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 members, he had with stripes corrected those discovered, at her will who had discovered them, she promised the like reward to any who, to please her, should speak ill of her daughter-in-law to her: and, none now venturing, they lived together with a remarkable sweet- ness of mutual kindness. 21. This great gift also Thou bestowedst, O my God, my mercy, upon that good handmaid ofThine, in whose womb Thou createdst me, that between any disagreeing and discordant parties where she was able, she shewed herself such a peace- maker, that hearing on 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, she never would disclose aught of the one unto the other, but what might tend to their reconcilement. 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 humane humanity, it ought to seem a light thing, not to foment or increase ill will by ill words, unless one study withal by good words to quench it. Such was she, Thyself, 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 com- plain of that in him as a believer, which before he was a believer she had borne from him. She was also the servant of thy servants ; whosoever of them knew her, did in her much praise and honour and love Thee ; for that through the wit- ness of the fruits of a holy conversation^ they perceived Thy 1 " Our mother, whose endowments, vine things, I had both before perceived and the fervour of her mind towards di- through daily intercourse and careful ob- Aug.\s last conversation with his mother. 173 presence in her heart. For she had been the wife of one man, had requited her parents, had governed her //owse lTim.5, piously, was well reported of for good tvorks, had brought up ' ' children, so often travailing in hirth of them, as she saw them swerving from Thee. Lastly, of all of us Thy servants, Gal. 4, O Lord, (whom on occasion of Thy own gift Thou sufferest ^^* to speak,) us, who before her sleeping in Thee lived united together, having received the grace of Thy baptism, did she so take care of, as though she had been mother of us all ; so 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, we knew not,) it came to pass. Thyself, as T believe, by Thy secret ways so ordering it, that she and I stood alone, leaning in a certain wdndow, which looked into the garden of the house where we now lay, at Ostia ; where removed from the din of men, we were recniiting from the fatigues of a long journey, for the voyage. We were discoursing then together, alone, very sweetly ; and forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, we were enquiring between Phil. 3, ourselves in the presence of the Truth, which Thou art, of what sort the eternal life of the saints was to be, which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the ^ Cot. 2, . 9 hea7't of man. But yet we gasped with the mouth of our heart, after those heavenly streams of Thy fountain, the foun- tain of life, which is with Thee ; that being bedewed thence Ps-36,9. 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 comparison, but not even of mention ; we raising up ourselves with a more glowing affection towards the " Self-same'," did by degrees pass servalion, and in a discussion on a matter an answer of hers as to what constituted of no small moment, her mind had ap- happines'', " If a man desiie what is peared to me of so high an order, that good and has it, he is happy; if evil, nothing could be more adapted to the though he have it, he is wretched." de study of true wisdom." de Ord. ii. ^. 1. Beata Vita, $. 10. Aug. speaks there of her " aident love ■" See above, $.11. of the divine Scriptures," and preserves 174 Gleams of future bliss in this life. CONF. through all things bodily, even the very heaven, whence sun ^li^and moon, and stars shine upon the earth; yea, we were 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 arrive at that region of Ps,80,l. never-failing plenty, where Thou feedest Israel for ever with the food of truth, and where life is the Wisdom by whom all these things are made, and what have been, and what shall be, and she 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 eternal. And while we were discoursing and panting after her, we slightly touched on her with the whole effort of our heart ; Rom. 8, and we sighed, and there we leave bound ihe first fruits of the Spirit ; and returned to vocal expressions of our mouth, where the word spoken has beginning and end. And what is Wisd,7.1ike unto Thy Word, our Lord, who endureth, in Himself W\\h- out becoming old, and maketJi all things neic ? 25. We were saying then : If to any the tumult of the flesh were hushed, hushed the images of earth, and waters, and air, hushed also the poles of heaven, yea the very soul be hushed to herself, and by not thinking on self surmount self, hushed all dreams and imaginary revelations, every tongue and every sign, and whatsoever exists only in transition, since if any could hear, all these say. We made not ourselves, but He made tis that abideth for ever — If then having uttered this, they too should be hushed, having roused only our ears to Him who made them, and He alone speak, not by them, but by Himself, that we may hear His Word, not through any tongue of llesli, nor AngeFs voice, nor sound of thmider, nor in the dark riddle of a similitude, but, might hear Whom in these things we love, might hear His Very Self without these, (as we two now strained ourselves, and in swift thought touched on that Eternal Wisdom, which abideth over all;) — could this be continued on, and other visions of kind far un- like be withdrawn, and this one ravish, and absorb, and wrap ^ What we cannot conceive, as it is, aside, reject, disown, we know it is not we know not [as we ought], but what- this we seek, though of what nature that ever occurs to our conceptions, we cast is, we know not. Aug. Ep.l30.§. 27.9.V. Her parting words. 176 up its beholder amid these inward joys, so that Ule might be for ever like that one moment of understanding which now we sighed after; were not this, Enter into thy Master^ joy? Mat. 25, And when shall that be? When ive shall all rise again, though j ^.^j.^ we shall not all he changed? 15, 51. 26. Such things was I speaking, 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, con- temptible to us, my mother said, " Son, for mine own part I 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 my hopes in this world are accomplished. One thing there was, for which I desired to linger for a while in this life, that I might see thee a Catholic Christian before 1 died. My God hath done this for me more abundantly, that I should now see thee withal, despising earthly happi- ness, become His servant : what do I here ?" [XI.] 27. What answer I made her unto these things, I remember not. For scarce five days after, or not much more, she fell sick of a fever ; and in that sickness one day she fell iaito 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 tons enquiringly, " Where was I ?" And then looking fixedly on us, with grief amazed ; " Here," saitli she, *' shall you bury your mother." I held my peace and refrained weeping; but my brother spake some- thing, wishing for her, as the happier lot, that she might die, not in a strange place, but in her own land. ^Vllercat, she with anxious look, checking him with her eyes, for that he still savoured such things, and then looking upon me; " Be- hold," saith she, '' what he saith:" and soon after to us both, " Lay," she saith, *' this body any where ; let not the care for that any way disquiet you : this only I request, that }^ou would remember me at the Lord's altar, wherever you be." And having delivered this sentiment in what words she could, she held her peace, being exercised by her growing sickness. 28. But I, considering Thy gifts, Thou unseen God, which Thou instillest into the hearts of Thy faithful ones, whence * His name was Navigius. Aug. de Vita Beata, $. 6. 176 Care about the body absorbed by increased love of God. CO NF. wondrous fruits do spring, did rejoice and give thanks to — '■ — - Thee, recalling what I before knew, how careful and anxious she had ever been, as to her place of burial, 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 addition 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 per- mitted to be united beneath the same earth. But when this emptiness had through the fulness of Thy goodness begun to cease in her heart, I knew not, and rejoiced admiring what she had so disclosed to me ; though indeed in that our discourse also in the window, when she said, " What do I here any longer ?" there appeared no desire of dying in her own country. I heard afterwards also, that when we were now at Ostia, she with a mother's confidence, when I was absent, one day dis- coursed with certain of my friends about the contempt of this life, and the blessing of death : and when they 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 was it to be feared lest at the end of the world, He should not recognize whence He were to raise me up." On the ninth day then of her sickness, and the fifty-sixth year of her age, and the three and thirtieth of mine, was that religious and holy soul freed from the body. [XII.] 29. I closed 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 me, which was, through my heart's youthful voice, finding its vent in weeping, was checked and silenced. For we thought it not fitting to solemnize that funeral with tearful lament, and groanings : for thereby do they for the most part express grief for the departed, as though unhappy, or altogether dead; whereas she was neither unhappy in her death, nor altogether dead. Of this, we were assured on good grounds, the Funeral rites. Aug. 's conduct. 177 testimony of her good conversation and her faith un- feigned. 30. What then was it which did grievously pain me within, but a fresh Avound Avrought through the sudden wrench of that most sweet and dear custom of living together? I joyed indeed in her testimony, when, in that her last sickness, mingling her endearments with my acts of duty, she called me " dutiful," 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 my God, Who madest us, what comparison is there betwixt that honour that I paid to her, and her slavery for me } Being then forsaken of so great comfort in her, my soul was wounded, and that life rent asunder as it were, which, of hers and mine together, had been made but one. 31. The boy then being stilled from weeping, Euodius took up the Psalter, and began to sing, our whole house answering him, the Psalm, / tvill sing of mercy and judgment Ps. 101. to Thee, O Lord^. But hearing what we were doing, many brethren and religious women came together; and whilst they (whose office it was) made ready for the burial, as the manner is, I (in a part of the house, where I might properly,) together with those who thought not fit to leave me, dis- coursed upon something fitting the time ; and by this balm of truth, assuaged that torment, known to Thee, they un- knowing and listening intently, and conceiving me to be without all sense of soitow. But in Thy ears, where none of them heard, I blamed the weakness of my feelings, and refrained my flood of grief, which gave way a little unto me ; but again came, as with a tide, yet not so as to burst out into tears, nor to a change of countenance ; still I knew what 1 was ^ I suppose they continued to the end called to sing. Chry?o.st. Horn. 70. ad of Psalm 102. This was the primitive Anlioch. They sung the llblii Psalm fashion: Nazianzen says, that his speech- usually. See ('hrys- Horn. 4. in c. 2. ad less sister Gorgonia's lips muttered the Hebrajos. [Old Kd.] " The Psahns and fourth Psalm; I will lie dovn in peace readings of the divine promises are decla- and steep. As S, Austen lay a dying, the ratory of those most blessed abodes of rest, company prayed. Possid. That they whereto those who have had a gorily end, had prayers between the departure and shall eteinallybe received; and they are the burial, see Tertull. de Anima, c. 51. a holy greeting of him who hns failea They used to sing both at the departure asleep ; and !ire an exhortation to those, and burial. Nazianzen, Orat. 10. says, who yet live, to a like end. Dionys. The dead Ca?sarius was carried from Eccl. Hicr. c. 7. hymns to hymns. Jhe priests were 178 Aug. ''s grief and self-command. CONF. keeping clown 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 condition, 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, 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 offered for her, when now the corpse was by the grave's side, as the manner there is, previous to its being laid therein, did 1 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 ^«AavsTov, for that it drives sadness from the mind. And this also I confess unto Ps.68,5. Thy mercy. Father of the fatherless, that I bathed, and was the same as before I bathed. For the bitterness of sorrow could not exsude out of my heart. Then I slept, and woke up again, and 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. 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 ; " Here my Popish translator says, that which the Mass is now only meant for. the sacrifice of the Mass was offered for [Old Ed.] That the prayers for the dead the dead. That the ancients had com- in the ancient Church, so far from favour- munion with their burials, I confess, ing, are opposed to the Romish doctrine But for what? 1. To testify their dying of Purgatory, see Bp. Bull, Serra. 3. in the communion of the Church. 2. and " Corruptions of the Church of To give thanks for their departure. 3. Rome." Bingham, xv. 3. 16. xxiii. 3. To pray God to give them place in His 13. Collyer, Eccl. Hist, of G. Britain, Paradise, 4. And a part in the first part ii. b. 4. p. 257. Usher's Answer to resurrection : — ^but not as a propitiatory a Jesuit. Field on the Church, p. 750, 1. sacrifice to deliver them out of Purgatory, &c. God crowns in mercy ^ the graces He yiv^s. 179 33. And then by little and little I recovered my former thoughts of Thy handmaid, her holy conversation towai-ds Thee, her holy tenderness and observance towards us, whereof I 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, to overflow as much as they desired ; reposing my heart upon them ; and it found rest in them, for it was in Thy ears, not 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 intei*pret 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 clieth in Adam. ^ p^^- And although she having been quickened in Christ, even before her release from the flesh, had lived 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 Mat. 12, word issued from her mouth against Thy Commandment. ' Thy Son, the Truth, hath said. Whosoever shall say unto hisM3it.5, brother, TJiou fool, shall he 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 sins, 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 themselves to be men ; and that he that glorieth, tcould glory in the Lord. 2 Cor. * See above, §. 17. and below, 1. xiii. this. It appears even from this that c. 1. " When God crowns our merits, " merits" has not in the fathers any he does nothing else than crown his own technical sense, but is equivalent to gifts." Ep. 194. §. 19. where is more on " good deeds." N 2 180 Aug. prays for the final forgiveness of all his mother's sins, CONF. 35. I therefore, O my Praise and my Life, God of my heart, — -iu 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 my mother. Hearken unto me, I entreat Thee, by the Medicine of our wounds. Who hung upon the tree, and now Rom. 8, sitting at Thy right hand maketh intercession to Thee for us. ^' . ,Q I know that she dealt mercifully, and from her hea^xi forgave 35 ; 6, her debtors their debts; do Thou also forgive her debts, whdX- ^~* ever she may have contracted in so many years, since the water of salvation. Forgive her. Lord, forgive, I beseech Ps. 143, Thee; enter not into judgment with her. Let Thy mercy ^' he exalted above Thy justice., since Thy words are true, and 13. ' TIiou hast promised mercy imto the merciful; which Thou Mat. 5, gavest them to be, who wilt have mercy on whom thou wilt j^P have mercy ; and wilt have compassion, on whom Thou hast ^ 5. had compassion . 36. And, I believe. Thou hast already done what I ask ; Ps, 119, 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 em- balmed with spices ; nor desired she a choice monument, 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 without intennission of one day : whence she knew that holy sacrifice to be dispensed. Col. 2, \yj vvhich 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 John 14, charge, /b«;i