AUGUSTINE'S
 
 . A", 
 
 
 
 \/l^^
 
 TH E 
 
 Confessions of Augustine. 
 
 EDITED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION, 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM G. T. SHEDD. 
 
 E3DITIO3ST. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY. 
 FRAXKLIN ST., CORNER OF HAWLEY.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1800, by 
 
 WARREN F. DRAPER, 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 THIS edition of Augustine's Confessions is a reprint 
 
 f 
 
 of an old translation, by an author unknown to the editor, 
 which was republished in Boston in 1843. A very little 
 use has also been made of another edition, published 
 at Oxford. This contains only ten books, and where 
 it differs from the old version, almost uniformly differs 
 for the worse. . 
 
 The principal labor in preparing this edition, has been 
 to make a careful comparison of the whole work with the 
 Latin text, and to add a few explanatory notes. The ob- 
 ject of comparing the old version with the original, was 
 not so much to make changes, for the translation, as a 
 whole, like all the early English translations from Latin 
 
 2230766
 
 iv Advertisement. 
 
 and Greek, is remarkably faithful and vivid, as to re- 
 move obscurities. These arose, in some few instances, 
 from too great conciseness upon the part of the trans- 
 lator ; but in many more, from errors in printing and 
 punctuating. In course of time, under the hands of ed- 
 itors and proof-readers, the long and involved sentences 
 of Augustine had become so dislocated, that nothing but 
 a recurrence to the Latin text would restore them to the 
 form in which the translator had originally given them. 
 This was specially true, of the Jast three books, which 
 are exceedingly subtile and abstract in their trains of 
 thought, and in many passages had become totally ob- 
 scure. The editor flatters himself that this revised edition 
 exhibits the old translation substantially as it was at first, 
 and that it will be found to be intelligible.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR, Page IX 
 
 THE FIRST BOOK. 
 
 Confession of the greatness and unsearcbableness of God; of God'a 
 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 fif- 
 teenth year, . . , . 1 
 
 THE SECOND BOOK. 
 
 Object of these Confessions; further ills of idleness developed in his six- 
 teenth year; evils of ill society, which betrayed him into theft, 28 
 
 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 Manichxans; 
 refutation of some of their tenets ; grief of his mother Monica at his 
 heresy, and prayers for his conversion; her vision from God, and an- 
 swer through a bishop, 42
 
 vi Contents. 
 
 THE FOURTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine's life from nineteen to eight and twenty; himself a Maui- 
 chaean, and seducing others to the same heresy; partial obedience 
 amidst vanity and sin ; consulting astrologers, only partially shaken 
 herein ; loss of an early freind, 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, . 63 
 
 THE FIFTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine's twenty-ninth year; Faustus, a snare of Satan to many, 
 made an instrument of deliverance to Augustine, by showing the ig- 
 norance of the Manichees on those things, wherein they professed to 
 have divine knowledge; Augustine gives up all thought of going 
 further among the Manichees; is guided to Rome and Milan, where he 
 hears Ambrose ; leaves the Manichees, and becomes again a Catechu- 
 men in the Church Catholic, 89 
 
 THE SIXTH BOOK. 
 
 Arrival of Monica at Milan ; her obedience to Ambrose, and his regard 
 for her; Ambrose's habits; Augustine's gradual abandonment of 
 error; finds that he has blamed the Church Catholic wrongly; desire 
 of absolute certainty, but struck with the contrary analogy of God's 
 natural Providence; how shaken in his worldly pursuits; God's guid- 
 ance of his friend Alypius; Augustine debates with himself and his 
 friends about their mode of life ; his inveterate sins, and dread of 
 judgment, 115 
 
 THE SEVENTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine's thirty-first year; gradually extricated from his errors, but 
 still with material conceptions of God; aided by an argument of Ne-
 
 Contents. vn 
 
 bridius ; sees that the cause of siu lies in free-will ; rejects the Mani- 
 chxan 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 WORD, but not of His Hu- 
 miliation; hence he obtains clearer notions of God's majesty; but, not 
 knowing Christ to be the Mediator, remains estranged from Him ; all 
 his doubts removed by the study of Holy Scripture, especially St. 
 Paul, 144 
 
 THE EIGHTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine's thirty-second year; he consults Simplicianus ; from him 
 hears the history of the conversion of Victorinus, and longs to devote 
 himself entirely to God, but is mastered by his old habits; is still 
 further roused by the history of 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 
 vision fulfilled, 176 
 
 THE NINTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine determines to devote his life to God, and to abandon his pro- 
 fession of Rhetoric, quietly, however; retires to the country to pre- 
 pare himself to receive baptism, and is baptized, with Alypius, and his 
 son, Adeodatus; at Ostia, on his way to Africa, his mother, Monica, 
 dies, in her fifty -sixth year, the thirty-third of Augustine; her life 
 and character, 206 
 
 THE TENTH BOOK. 
 
 Having in the former books spoken of himself before his receiving bap- 
 tism, in this Augustine confesses what he then was; but first he in- 
 quires by what faculty we can know God at all ; whence he enlarges on
 
 vin Contents. 
 
 the mysterious character of the memory, wherein God, being made 
 known, dwells, but which could not discover Him; then he examines 
 his own temptations, under the triple division of " lust of the flesh, 
 lust of the eyes, and lust of rule;" what Christian continency pre- 
 scribes as to each ; Christ the only Mediator, who heals and will heal 
 all infirmities, . 241 
 
 THE ELEVENTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine breaks off the history of the mode whereby God led him to 
 holy orders, in order to " confess " God's mercies in opening to him the 
 Scripture ; Moses is not to be understood, but in Christ, not even the 
 first words, " In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth ;" 
 answer to cavillers who asked, " What did God before He created 
 heaven and the earth, and whence willed He at length to make them, 
 whereas He did not make them before?"; inquiry into the nature of 
 tone, 300 
 
 THE TWELFTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine proceeds to comment on Gen. i. 1, and explains the " heaven " 
 to mean that spiritual and incorporeal creation which cleaves to God 
 unintermittingly, always beholding His countenance, and " 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 what- 
 ever truth can be obtained from its words, does, in fact, lie concealed 
 in them, 334 
 
 THE THIRTEENTH BOOK. 
 
 Continuation of the exposition of Gen. i. ; it contains the mystery of the 
 Trinity, and a type of the formation, extension, and support of the 
 Church, 372
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 THERE are a few autobiographies which challenge, and 
 receive, a special attention from age to age, because they 
 possess characteristics that are not found in the common 
 mass of such productions. They are the delineation 
 of an extraordinary intellect, and the issue of a re- 
 markable experience. They embody the thoughts of 
 a deep mind in its most absorbed hours, the emotions 
 of a vehement soul in its most critical and impas- 
 sioned moments. In them, the ordinary experiences 
 of human life attain to such a pitch of intensity, and 
 such a breadth, range, and depth, as to strike the reader 
 with both a sense of familiarity, and a sense of strange- 
 ness. It is his own human thought and human feeling 
 that he finds expressed ; and yet it is spoken with so 
 much greater clearness, depth, and energy, than he is 
 himself capable of, or than is characteristic of the mass 
 of men, that it seems like the experience of another 
 sphere, and another race of beings.
 
 Introduction. 
 
 The CONFESSIONS OP AUGUSTINE is a work of this 
 class ; and upon sending forth another edition of it, we 
 seize the opportunity to notice some of its more dis- 
 tinctive and remarkable features. 
 
 1. The first characteristic that strikes the reader is, 
 the singular mingling of metaphysical and devotional 
 elements in the work. The writer passes, with a free- 
 dom that often amounts to abruptness, from the in- 
 tensely practical to the intensely speculative. In the 
 very midst of his confession of sin, or rejoicing over 
 deliverance from it, his subtle and inquisitive under- 
 standing raises a query, the answer to which, if answer 
 were possible, would involve the solution of all the 
 problems that have baffled the metaphysical mind from 
 Thales to Hegel. In the very opening of the work, 
 for example, when the surcharged and brimming soul 
 is swelling with its thick-coming emotions, and it is 
 seeking vent for its sense of the divine mercy which 
 has saved it from everlasting perdition, it slides, by an 
 unconscious transition, to the question : "How shall I 
 call upon my God, my God and Lord, since when I 
 call for Him I shall be calling Him into 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 ? " ! At the very instant 
 
 1 Confessions, I. ii. 2
 
 Introduction. xi 
 
 when Augustine is enjoying the most heartfelt and posi- 
 tive communion with God, his intellect feels the pres- 
 sure of the problem respecting the possibility of such 
 an intercourse. Such transitions are perpetually occur- 
 ring throughout the work, until, in the eleventh book, 
 the author leave* his autobiography altogether, and de- 
 votes the remainder of the work to an interpretation 
 of the opening chapters of Genesis, in which he dis- 
 cusses the most recondite problems respecting Time 
 and Eternity, the Creator and Creation, and the Tri- 
 unity of the Divine Essence. 
 
 It is not, however, from any open or lurking scep- 
 ticism, or even from any mental unrest, that Augustine 
 raises such inquiries. These questions are not the issue 
 and index of a mind tormented by doubts. They are 
 only the exuberant play and careering of a subtle and 
 thoughtful intellect, from the vantage-ground of a vital 
 and assured faith. Conscious of being now, at last, at 
 rest in God, the Centre of being and blessedness, he 
 allows his mind to pose itself with the profound truths 
 which are involved in the childlike faith of the Chris- 
 tian. His purpose is not to unsettle his own belief, or 
 that of his reader; but, by the mere immensity of 
 truth, to stagger and overwhelm the understanding, 
 and thereby fill the soul with that sense of mystery 
 which is at once the constituent element of awe, and
 
 Introduction. 
 
 the nutriment of worship. Nothing can be further 
 from infidelity, than the spirit with which Augustine 
 raises these inquiries respecting time, eternity, the 
 nature of God and the human soul, the possibility 
 and manner of creation from nothing, the origin of 
 evil, and the nature of matter. Neither is there any- 
 thing of Gnostic curiosity and pride, in his approaches 
 to the frontiers of this realm of mystery. He merely 
 desires, by this tentative method, to fill his own mind, 
 already believing hoping and joying in divine realities, 
 with a more distinct consciousness of the infinitude of 
 the world beyond space and time, and of those truths 
 and facts which, in his own phrase, cannot enter by any 
 of the avenues of the flesh. Hence, his questionings 
 leave him humble, while they leave him more self-in- 
 tellig'ent. His speculation issues from his religious life 
 and feeling, and helps both to clarify and deepen it. In 
 other words, Augustine is here practising upon his own 
 celebrated dictum, thai faith precedes scientific knowledge. 
 The practical belief of the truths of Christianity con- 
 tains much that is latent and undeveloped. The Chris- 
 tian is wiser than he knows. The moment he begins 
 to examine the implications of his own vivid and per- 
 sonal experience, he finds that they contain the entire 
 rudimental matter of Christian science. For example, 
 he believes in the one living and personal God. But,
 
 Introduction. xm 
 
 the instant he commences the analysis of tliis idea of 
 ideas, he discovers its profound capacity, and its vast im- 
 plication. Again, he believes in God incarnate. But 
 when he endeavors to comprehend what is involved in 
 this truth and fact, he is overwhelmed by the multitude 
 of its relations, and the richness of its contents. His 
 faith has really and positively grasped these ideas of God 
 and the God-Man ; but, to employ an illustration of 
 Bernard, it has grasped them in their closed and 
 involuted form. 1 If he would pass, now, from faith to 
 scientific reason, he needs only to reflect upon the in- 
 trinsic meaning of these ideas, until they* open along 
 the lines of their structure, and are perceived philo- 
 sophically, though not exhaustively. But, in this pro- 
 cess, faith itself is reinforced and deepened by a reflex 
 action, while, at the same time, the intellect is kept 
 reverent and vigilant, because the cognition, though 
 positive and correct as far as it reaches, is not ex- 
 haustive and complete, only by reason of the immensity 
 and infinitude of the object. 
 
 Holding such a theory of the relation of reason to 
 faith, Augustine never shrinks from making excursions 
 into the region of metaphysical truth. Although he 
 
 1 Intellectns rationi innititnr, fides authoritati, opinio sola verisimili- 
 tudine se tuetur. Habent ilia duo certam veritatem, sed fides clausarn 
 et involutam, intelligent!* nudam et ruaiiifestam. De Cousideratione, 
 Lib. V. Cap. iii c. 893. Par. Ed. 1632.
 
 xiv Introduction. 
 
 uniformly approaches the problems of theology upon 
 their most difficult side, and never attempts to become 
 clear by becoming shallow, yet there is small fear of 
 philosophy, and still less disparagement of reason, in the 
 writings of the bishop of Hippo. And this, because 
 of the above-mentioned theory. Always making his 
 own vital and confident faith the point from which he 
 departs, and to which he returns, he is at once bold 
 and safe. Go where he may, he cannot lose sight of 
 his pole-star; and thus he always keeps his easting. 
 Like the mariner, far out at sea, with a strong ship 
 under him, and the unfathomed abysses beneath him, he 
 careers courageously over the waste of waters, with no 
 dread of a lee shore, or of sunken rocks. Hence the 
 frequency, and oftentimes the strange abruptness, of his 
 metaphysical queryings. He knows that all truth is 
 consistent with itself, and that the philosophical answer, 
 if it come at all, must come out of the material fur- 
 nished by the Christian consciousness. His reason can- 
 not contradict his faith, because it is homogeneous and 
 consubstantial with it. The former is the evolution ; 
 the latter is the involution. 
 
 2. A second characteristic of Augustine's Confessions 
 is, the union of the most minute and exhaustive detail of 
 sin, with the most intense and spiritual abhorrence of it. 
 The only work, in any language, that bears any compar-
 
 Introduction. xv 
 
 ison with this of the North-African Father, is that in 
 which Rousseau pours out his life of passion and evil 
 concupiscence. There is the same abandon and unre- 
 serve in each ; the same particularity in recounting the 
 past conduct ; the same subtle unwinding of the course of 
 transgression. Each absorbs himself hi his own biog- 
 raphy, with an entireness and simplicity that precludes 
 any thought for a spectator or a listener ; any regard 
 for either an unfeeling or a sympathizing world of 
 readers. Augustine and Rousseau, both alike, with- 
 draw into the secret and silent confessional of their 
 own memories and recollections, and there pour out 
 their confidences with utter self-abandonment. 
 
 But the resemblance ceases at this point. The mo- 
 tive prompting the confession, and the emotions that 
 accompany it, are as different as light from darkness. 
 Augustine's confession is really such, an acknowl- 
 edgment to God. Rousseau's recital is a soliloquy, 
 that never goes beyond himself. The Christian bishop 
 confesses his past sinful life only that he may magnify, 
 and make his boast in that unmerited grace which 
 plucked him "from the bottom of the bottomless pit" 1 
 He brings out his secret and scarlet sins into the light 
 of his memory, that he may praise the God of his sal- 
 vation for his marvellous pity. "I will now call to 
 
 1 Confessions, II. iv. 9.
 
 XVI 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 mind," he says, "my past foulness, and the carnal cor- 
 ruptions of my soul; not because I love them, but 
 that I may love Thee, O my God. For love of Thy 
 love I do it ; reviewing my most wicked ways, hi the 
 very bitterness of my remembrance, that Thou mayest 
 grow sweet unto me." 1 The minuteness, the plainness, 
 and the exhaustiveness of his account of his sinful 
 life, only sets in stronger relief the strangeness of the 
 mercy that lifted him out of it; only fills him with a 
 delirium of joy and love towards his redeeming God. 
 How different all this is from the motive, and the feel- 
 ing of Eousseau, it is needless to say. It is not neces- 
 sary to affirm the existence of a deliberate intention to 
 debauch the world, by those confessions of sin and guilt, 
 though such is, unquestionably, the inevitable tendency 
 of them. It is enough to say, that there certainly was 
 no intention to waken abhorrence of evil by means of 
 them ; and still less to reflect any light upon the Divine 
 character and government. The impelling motive prob- 
 ably was, to relieve a stormy and tempest-tossed nature, 
 by a simple overflow of the pent-up elements. Rous- 
 seau merely followed that impulse of a burdened soul 
 which necessitates self-utterance ; that law of both mind 
 and matter which absolutely forbids the perpetual sup- 
 pression of struggling powers and forces. All the de- 
 
 1 Confessions, II. i. 1.
 
 Introduction. XVH 
 
 vices of man cannot choke down even the smallest 
 spring of water, so that it shall never come to the 
 surface ; and all the efforts of men and angels com- 
 bined cannot keep under, in eternal burial, the emotions 
 and passions of an inordinate'and billowy spirit. Under 
 this stress and pressure, the " self-torturing sophist " 
 enters into the detail of his unworthy and unhappy 
 life, without the slightest recognition of the claims of 
 law, and apparently without the slightest fear of its 
 retributions. The wild and passionate rehearsal goes 
 on, but with no reference either to the holiness or the 
 mercy of the Supreme; with no allusion to the sol- 
 emn relations of an immortal soul either to time or to 
 eternity. 
 
 Again, while Augustine relates the sins of his youth, 
 and his transgressions, with a plainness which the facti- 
 tious modesty of an inwardly impure mind has some- 
 times condemned, it is always with the most genuine 
 
 
 
 and unaffected sorrow and abhorrence. A more sin- 
 cere book than the Confessions of Augustine was never 
 written. Every statement of sin is a wail over it. 
 Rivers of waters run down the relator's eyes, because 
 he has not kept the divine law. The plainness of this 
 book is like that of the prophecy of Ezekiel ; the vile- 
 ness is brought out into sight only that it may be tram- 
 pled and stamped upon. And yet it is not a spasmodic, 
 2
 
 win Introduction. 
 
 or an affected reprobation. From the depths of a now 
 spiritualized mind, Augustine really abhors his past in- 
 iquity. He is a new creature ; old things have passed 
 away, and all things have become new. With the clear 
 and searching eye of the 'cherubim, he looks into the 
 hole of the pit whence he was digged, and beholds ac- 
 cording to truth. There is no furtive glance towards 
 the past voluptuousness. " It is seen to be sin and guilt, 
 meriting the wrath and curse of God, fit only to be 
 burned up in the consuming fire of the Divine immacu- 
 lateness. All this is perceived with calmness and cer- 
 tainty ; so that the judgment of damnation, which is 
 passed by the autobiographer upon his personal cor- 
 ruption, is deep and tranquil, like that of the bar of 
 final doom. 
 
 3. But this is only a negative excellence. A third 
 characteristic of this book is, that it palpitates with a 
 positive love of God and goodness. The writer does 
 not merely look back with aversion and abhorrence, 
 but he looks forward with aspiration and longing. He 
 gazes, with a steady and rapt eye, upon the supernal 
 Beauty, the heavenly Eros. His spiritualized perception 
 reposes with joy unutterable, and full of glorying, upon 
 the perfections of God and the realities of eternity. 
 Hear his impassioned utterance. " Not with doubting, but 
 with assured consciousness, do I love Thee, Lord. But
 
 Introduction. xix 
 
 what do I love when I love Thee ? not the beauty of 
 bodies, nor the fair harmony of time, nor the brightness 
 of the light so gladsome to our eyes, nor sweet melodies 
 of varied songs, nor the fragrant smell of flowers and 
 ointments and spices, not manna and honey, not limbs 
 acceptable to the embracements of flesh. None of these 
 do I love when I love my God ; and yet I love a kind 
 of light, a kind of melody, a kind of fragrance, a kind 
 of food, and a kind of embracement, when I love my 
 God, the light, the melody, the fragrance, the food, 
 the embracement, of the inner man : where there 
 shineth unto my soul what space cannot contain, and 
 there soundeth what time beareth not away, and there 
 smelleth what breathing disperseth not, and there tasteth 
 what eating diminisheth not, and there clingeth what 
 satiety divorceth not. This is it which I love, when I 
 love my God". The entire emotiveness of that deep, 
 passionate, North- African nature has been transferred 
 from sense to spirit, from time to eternity, from earth to 
 heaven, from the creature to the Creator, and now flows 
 on like the river of God, which is full of water. In- 
 deed, the feeling which Augustine bears towards the 
 Blessed Triune God, cannot be better expressed than 
 by the word ajfectionateness. There is in his experi- 
 ence awe " deep as the centre ; " there is humility 
 absolute ; there is the reverential fear of the whig
 
 XX 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 veiled seraphim ; but there is, also, in and through it 
 all, that confiding love which is both warranted and 
 elicited by the dying prayer of the Redeemer. This 
 man, who so often denominates himself " evil" and 
 "abominable," " miserable" and "godless," who pros- 
 trates his whole being, in shame and sorrow unspeak- 
 able, before the infinite and adorable majesty of God, 
 yet finds an answer, in his own regenerate conscious- 
 ness, to the wonderful supplication of the Redeemer, 
 that his redeemed " all may be one, as thou Father art 
 in me, and I in thee ; that they may be one even as we 
 are one ; I in them, and thou in me, that they may be 
 made perfect in one." 
 
 This sense of union with God is very vivid in this 
 Latin Father ; as it is, also, in some of the more spirit- 
 ual of the schoolmen, particularly Anselm and x Ber- 
 nard. It is very different, however, from that vague 
 feeling of the Mystic theologian, which, even in its best 
 forms, sometimes hovers upon the borders of pantheism, 
 and in its worst form, as in Eckart and Silesius, is little 
 better than the Hindoo absorption hi the deity. On the 
 contrary, it is that intelligent consciousness of oneness 
 with God, which issues from the evangelical sense of 
 reconciliation with him through the blood of Christ. The 
 ideas of Incarnation and Redemption shape the whole 
 experience of Augustine, and his communion with God
 
 Introduction. * xxi 
 
 has its root in the sense of sin, and the sense of mercy. 
 But these two utterly preclude the pantheistic intuition. 
 He who feels himself to be guilty, knows most pierc- 
 ingly that God and man are two distinct beings. And 
 he who has rejoiced in the manifested pity of the Crea- 
 tor towards the creature, cannot possibly confound the 
 two, either in philosophy or theology. And such is the 
 foundation upon which Augustine's filial and affectionate 
 communion with God rests. He knows that if God 
 spared not his own Son, but freely gave him up for a 
 guilty criminal like himself, he will certainly, after this, 
 freely give him all things. Springing from this evan- 
 gelical root, the affectionateness of Augustine is totally 
 different, also, from that fatal form of self-deception 
 which is seen in the sentimentalist's love of God. He 
 does not presume to cast himself upon the Divine 
 mercy, until he has first recognized and acquiesced in 
 the Divine justice. These Confessions contain none of 
 that religiousness, to which the intrinsic and eternal 
 damnableness of sin is an offensive truth, and which 
 avoids all the retributive and judicial aspects of revela- 
 tion. Augustine never shrinks from the fact, that a 
 creature's wilful transgression, in its own nature merits, 
 and irrespective of Christ's blood of atonement will 
 receive, an " everlasting punishment " from the living 
 God. He knows that the doctrine of genuine peni-
 
 xxii Introduction. 
 
 tence for sin, stands, or falls, with that of an absolute 
 ill-desert, and an everlasting penalty ; that every species 
 of religious anxiety which reluctates at Christ's repre- 
 sentations of the final doom, and at the doctrine that 
 only Christ's Passion stands between a sinner and eter- 
 nal damnation, is spurious ; and that he who would 
 throw himself into the arms of the Redeemer, before 
 he has knelt with a crushed heart at the bar of the 
 Judge, will ultimately meet a terrific rebuke to his 
 presumption, and his moral worthlessness. Augustine's 
 trust in the compassion of God has for its antecedent, 
 the distinct consciousness of the " wrath to come." The 
 Divine love is, Jbr his mind, a pity that " bore his sins 
 on the tree," and thereby delivered him from an eternal 
 infliction that was merited and actually impending. 1 
 
 Such thoroughness in Augustine's experience of both 
 the justice and the mercy of God, resulted in aa un- 
 doubting confidence in Him. The trustfulness of hia. 
 feeling towards the Supreme exhibits itself, sometimes, 
 almost like the prattling of a child. " I beseech Thee, 
 my God, I would fain know, if so Thou wiliest, for what 
 purpose my baptism was then deferred ? Was it for 
 my good, that the rein was laid loose, as it were, upon 
 me, for me to sin ? " 2 " Bear with me, my God, while I 
 say something of my wit, Thy gift, and on what dotages 
 
 1 Compare Confessions, V. ix. 16. 2 Confessions, I. xi. 18.
 
 Introduction. xxm 
 
 I wasted it." 1 In fact, the whole life, the entire experi- 
 ence of Augustine, with all that is insignificant, equally 
 with all that is great in it, is poured out into the ear of 
 the Divine Confessor. To God there is nothing great, 
 and nothing small ; and this penitent and affectionate 
 soul passes from point to point in its detail, without stop- 
 ping to measure or compare. The Divine ear is not 
 heavy, that it cannot hear even the minutest items of the 
 penitential record ; and the filial, grateful heart is never 
 tired of the exhaustive confession and rehearsal. 
 
 Such an experience as this brought the spirit of Au- 
 gustine into most intimate relations to God. " Some- 
 times," he says, "Thou admittest me Jo an affection 
 very unusual, in my inmost soul ; rising to a strange 
 sweetness, which, if it were perfected in me, I know not 
 what in it would not belong to the life to come." 2 The 
 Modern church is too destitute of this child-like affec- 
 tionateness, and this fervor of love. It is certainly 
 striking to pass from the more formal and reserved 
 types of religious experience, characteristic of an over- 
 civilized Christendom, to the simple and gushing utter- 
 ances of Augustine, Anselm, and Bernard. "Too late 
 I loved Thee, O Thou Beauty of ancient days, yet ever 
 new! too late I loved Thee!" 3 "Oh! that I mijrht 
 
 1 Confessions, I. xvii. 27. 2 Confessions, X. xl. 65. 
 
 3 Confessions, X. xxvii. 38.
 
 XXIV 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 repose on Thee ! Oh ! that Thou wouldest enter into 
 my heart, and inebriate it!" 1 "Oh! Thou sweetness 
 never failing, Thou blissful and assured sweetness ! " 2 
 In one of his Soliloquies, Augustine addresses God as 
 both father and mother : u Et tu Domine Deus pater 
 orphanorum, et tu mater pupillorum tuorum, audi eju- 
 latum filiorum tuorum." 8 The soul follows hard after 
 God, and its pantings often find a natural expression in 
 language, and terms, as fervid as those which we are 
 wont to associate only with the most absorbing and con- 
 suming of earthly passions. The rythmical and sono- 
 rous Roman speech becomes yet more deep-toned and 
 sounding in its note, as the rapt mind rises upon the 
 wings of spiritual intuition and ecstasy. The superla- 
 tive becomes the positive. "Dulcissime, amantissime, 
 benignissime, preciosissime, desideratissime, amabilis- 
 sime, pulcherrime, tu melle dulcior, lacte et nive candi- 
 dior, nectare suavior, gemmis et auro preciosior, cunctis- 
 que terrarum divitiis et honoribus mihi carior, quando te 
 videbo ? Quando apparebo ante faciem tuam ? Quando 
 satiabor de pulchritudine tua?" 4 This language, it should 
 be remembered, flows from a mind that is naturally spec- 
 ulative and dialectic ; that has meditated, not merely pro- 
 
 l Confessions, I. v. 6. 2 Confessions, II. 1. 1. 
 
 3 Soliloquiorum liber nnns, Opera IX. 763, Ed. Basil, 1569. 
 
 4 Meditationum liber uuus, 6pera IX. 722, 728, Ed. Basil, 1560.
 
 Introduction. xxv 
 
 foundly, but systematically, upon the being and attri- 
 butes of God. It is not the utterance of a senti- 
 mentalist, but of a robust understanding, out of which 
 issued the most logical and rigorous of the ancient types 
 of Christian theology. When we find the most abstract 
 and intellectual of the Christian Fathers dissolving in 
 tears, or mounting in ecstasy, we may be certain that 
 the emotion issues from truth and reality. When the 
 rock gushes out water, we may be sure that it is pure 
 water. Were it not that we find the systematic writings 
 of Augustine, which, moreover, constitute the bulk of 
 his works, calm as reason itself, consecutive as logic 
 itself, and entirely free from extravagance, we might 
 query whether a sinful mortal, an imperfectly sanctified 
 man, could use such language as the above, without a 
 latent insincerity ; or, at least, without running far in 
 advance of his real emotions. But these soliloquies 
 and meditations are the moments of Christian and 
 saintly inspiration; seasons when the deep and subtle 
 reasoning of the renewed mind, having reached its 
 term, becomes hushed and breathless in the spiritual 
 intuition, and passes over into awe and worship. The 
 knowledge of the cherub becomes the love of the 
 seraph. Each is alike real and true ; the one is the 
 dark root, the other the bright consummate flower of 
 religion.
 
 xxvi Introduction. 
 
 One who imbues his mind with the spirit of Augus- 
 tine's Confessions finds no difficulty, therefore, in under- 
 standing the Song of Solomon. An earthly exegesis 
 can interpret this Song of Songs only from its own point 
 of view. The conceptions, figures, and terms of the 
 
 spiritual lyric are instinctively referred to earthly and 
 
 i 
 carnal relationships. An unspiritual mind cannot, by 
 
 any possibility, rise into the pure ether and element of 
 incorporeal and heavenly Beauty, in which the writer 
 of this canticle moves his wings. But not so the Au- 
 gustines, the Anselms, and the Bernards. These purged 
 and clear eyes were granted at certain favored hours, 
 and as the result and reward of their long vigils and 
 meditations, the immortal vision of the pure in heart. 
 And the immortal vision wakened the immortal longing. 
 The environment of earth and time became a prison to 
 the now illuminated spirit, and it pined for the hill of 
 frankincense and the mountains of myrrh. Having 
 seen the King in his beauty, the holy and ethereal soul 
 fell into love-longing. 1 
 
 4. A fourth striking characteristic of these Confes- 
 sions is, the insight which they afford into the origin and 
 
 1 The experience of Edwards, as portrayed by himself, more than that 
 of any other modern, exhibits these same characteristics. That rapt ex- 
 ulting vision of the Divine majesty and beauty, which fell upon him 
 like the dawn, in the opening of his Christian life, flushed his entire 
 career, and entitles him, also, to the name of the " angelic," the " seraphic " 
 doctor.
 
 Introduction. xxvn 
 
 progress of the Christian experience. They are the 
 best commentary yet written upon the seventh and 
 eighth chapters of Romans. That quickening of the 
 human spirit, which puts it again into vital and sensitive 
 relations to the holy and the eternal ; that illumination 
 of the mind, whereby it is enabled to perceive with 
 clearness the real nature of truth and righteousness ; that 
 empowering of the will, to the conflict and the victory, 
 the entire process of restoring the Divine image in the 
 soul of man, is delineated in this book, with a vivid- 
 ness and reality never exceeded by the uninspired mind. 
 And particularly is the bondage of the enslaved will 
 brought to view. Augustine, though subject to pangs of 
 conscience, and the forebodings of an unpardoned soul, 
 from his earliest years, did not, nevertheless, attain 
 evangelical peace until the thirty-second year of his 
 life. He died at the age of seventy -six ; so that nearly 
 one-half of his earthly existence was spent in unregen- 
 eracy. He was born and bred in the midst of pagan- 
 ism, and his tropical, North-African nature immersed 
 itself in the ambition and sensuality of his clime and his 
 race, with an intensity to which the career of a Byron, 
 a Rousseau, or a Heine, affords a nearer parallel, than 
 does anything which meets the eye in the externally 
 decent and restrained life of modern society. To such 
 a soul of flame was uttered, in tones that startled, and
 
 xxvni Introduction. 
 
 tones that shattered, and tones that for the moment 
 paralyzed, the solemn words: "Not in rioting and 
 drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in 
 strife and envying ; but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 and make not provision for the flesh" It was, at first, 
 like the giving up of the ghost. The effort to obey 
 was convulsive. " Thou, O Lord, didst press upon me 
 inwardly with severe mercy, redoubling the lashes of 
 fear and shame, lest I should again give way, and, not 
 bursting that 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 performed it. I all but did it, and did 
 it not ; yet sunk not back to my former state, but kept 
 ray 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 ; hesitating 
 to die to death, and to live to life ; and the worse, 
 whereto I was inured, prevailed more with me than the 
 better, whereto I was unused ; and as the moment ap- 
 proached wherein I was to become other than I was, 
 the greater horror did it strike into me ; yet did it not 
 strike me back, nor turned me away, but held me in 
 suspense." 1 What a subtle and most truthful glimpse 
 into the workings of inveterate sin, which has grown 
 
 l Confessions, VIII. xi. 25.
 
 Introduction. xxix 
 
 with his growth and strengthened with his strength, is 
 afforded in the petition of his early manhood : " Give 
 me continence, only not yet ! " l These, and a hundred 
 others like them, bring the whole inward struggle into 
 plain view. It is a real conflict, in which the kingdom 
 of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by 
 force. "We know of no other religious book, except the 
 Bible and Pilgrim's Progress, which makes so deep an 
 impression of reality as this one. Religion, in the 
 experience here portrayed, is veritable. The fears and 
 forebodings which herald it, are actual. The pangs and 
 throes that bring it to the birth, are actual. The joys 
 and sorrows, the assurance and the doubts, that accom- 
 pany its growth, are actual. As the doctrinal system 
 of Augustine rests upon a basis of realism, so does his 
 practical life and history. There is nothing upon either 
 side that is nominal, fictitious, ideal. 
 
 But, the whole excellence of this delineation of the 
 bondage of the apostate will, which is the cause of all 
 this struggle, will not be perceived, unless we notice 
 that Augustine continually refers the enslavement to the 
 creature himself, and never to the Creator. It is the 
 product of self-will, and not of that creative fiat by 
 which man was originally made a holy and unenslaved 
 
 spirit in the image of God. " My witt the enemy held, 
 
 <* 
 
 l Confessions, VIII. vii. 17.
 
 xxx Introduction. 
 
 and thence had made a chain for me, and bound me. -For, 
 of a perverse witt comes lust ; and a lust yielded to be- 
 comes custom ; and custom not resisted becomes necessity. 
 By which links, as it were, joined together as in a chain, 
 a hard bondage held me enthralled. And that new will, 
 which had begun to be in me, to serve Thee freely, and 
 to wish to enjoy Thee, O God, was not yet able com- 
 pletely to overcome my former long-established wilful- 
 ness." 1 Thus the bondage is guilt; and at the very 
 instant when the soul is weighed down with a sense of 
 utter impotence to holiness, it is also prostrate before 
 the judicial bar, with the consciousness of deserved 
 damnation. The enslavement is not plead in excuse 
 of sin, because it is acknowledged to be a part of sin, 
 and thus an aggravation of it. The element of servi- 
 tude, like the element of blindness, is part and particle 
 of the evil and abominable thing which the soul of God 
 hates. The reflex action of transgression upon the 
 understanding, is spiritual blindness ; upon the heart, 
 is spiritual haVdness^ and upon the will, is spiritual 
 bondage. The voluntary faculty cannot escape, any 
 more than any other faculty of the soul, the reaction 
 of its self-action. Whosoever commits sin, by and in 
 that very voluntary act, becomes the slave (SoDAos) of 
 sin. The cause inevitably carries its consequence. 
 
 1 Confessions, Till. v. 10.
 
 Introduction. xxxi 
 
 That which is done cannot be undone ; and no will that 
 self-determinedly apostatizes can be again the sound and 
 strong faculty, in reference to good, that it was before 
 apostasy, except through the intervention of Divine 
 renewing power. The moral bondage, therefore, like 
 the moral blindness, and the moral hardness, enters into 
 the sum-total of human depravity, and goes to swell the 
 sum-total of human condemnation. All this, though not 
 drawn out in this dialectic manner, is implied in Augus- 
 tine's anthropology. Nowhere is there a more profound 
 consciousness of the impotence of the apostate will, and 
 nowhere is there a more heartfelt and humble sense 
 of personal ill-desert, than is expressed in these Con- 
 fessions. 1 
 
 Such are some of the more salient points in the auto- 
 biography of Augustine. A moment's reflection upon 
 them will reveal that they are of the very highest order, 
 and that such a religious experience as is here por- 
 
 1 We have dwelt the longer upon this point, because it has been as- 
 serted that Augustine's theory of grace and election is fatalism. Mil- 
 man's portrait of the Latin Father (Primitive Christianity, Book III. 
 Chap, x ) is, in many of its feature*, an accurate one; and the general col- 
 oring is laid on with an admiring, and even an enthusiastic eye. But Mil- 
 man represents Augustiniani.-m as " offering up free agency upon the altar 
 of religion, and thereby degrading the most wonderful work of Omnipo- 
 tence, a being endowed with free agency." The misconception arises 
 from overlooking the fact that, in Augustine's system, the bondage and 
 impotence of the apostate will are the consequence and result of an act of 
 witt. Se(/"-enslavement and tflf-rnm is one thing ; enslavement by the 
 creative act, and ruin by compulsory force, is another. The charge of 
 fatalism can logically be made only against this latter.
 
 XXXTI Introduction. 
 
 trayed, cannot be studied without profit. This book is 
 worthy of being made a manual of devotion. It is not 
 claimed to be entirely free from erroneous aspects of 
 truth. No man wholly escapes the faults of his age ; 
 and the Confessions of Augustine exhibit some of the 
 deficiencies of the Church of the fourth century. But 
 in reference to the permanent and everlasting elements 
 of the Christian experience, the great main charac- 
 teristics of the Christian life, here is certainly a bold 
 and accurate, a clear and large utterance. We are con- 
 fident that familiarity with this book, for even a single 
 year, would perceptibly affect the individual's religious 
 experience. It would infuse into it the rare quality of 
 vividness. There are no stereotyped phrases, no tech- 
 nical terms or forms. It is the life of God in the soul 
 of a strong man, rushing and rippling with the freedom 
 of the life of nature. He who watches can almost see 
 the growth ; he who listens can hear the' perpetual 
 motion ; and he who is in sympathy will be swept 
 along. 
 
 The editing of these Confessions has been a labor of 
 love. As we have scanned the sentences and syllables, 
 we have seemed to hear the beating of that flaming 
 heart, which, now for fifteen centuries, has burnt and 
 throbbed with a seraph's affection in the Mount of God. 
 "NVe have seemed to look into that deep and spiritual
 
 Introduction. xxxm 
 
 eye, which gazed without shrinking, yet with bitter pen- 
 itential tears, into the depths of a tormenting conscience 
 and a sinful nature, that it might then gaze without daz- 
 zling, and with unutterable rapture, into the eyes and 
 face of The Eternal. Our Protestantism concedes, with- 
 out scruple, the cognomen of Saint to this ethereal 
 spirit. Our Christianity triumphs in that marvellous 
 power of grace, which wrought such a wonderful trans- 
 formation. Having this example and living fact before 
 our view, we believe that Christ, the Lord, has all 
 power, both in heaven and upon earth ; and that there 
 is lodged in his pierced and bleeding hands a spiritual 
 energy that is able to renovate the mightiest, and the 
 most vitiated forms of humanity. The Caesars and 
 Napoleons, the Byrons and Rousseaus, all the passion- 
 ate spirits, all the stormy Titans, are within reach of 
 that irresistible influence which is garnered up in the 
 Redemption of the Son of God, and which is accessible 
 to the prayers and the faith of the church. 
 
 The following sketch of the life of Augustine, given 
 in the compact grouping and terse statement of Gue- 
 ricke, 1 is appended for the convenience of the reader. 
 
 1 Guericke's Church History, { 91. 
 3
 
 xxxrv Introduction. 
 
 " Aurelius Augustinus, born at Tagaste, in Numidia, 
 Nov. 13, 354, a man of deep and powerful nature, not 
 the most learned, yet the greatest of the fathers, and in 
 whose energetic mind acuteness and profundity were 
 blended jn their highest degrees, after victoriously pass- 
 ing through the most violent inward conflicts, had at- 
 tained evangelical peace of conscience. Though early 
 pointed to Christ by his excellent mother Monica, he 
 had become distractingly immersed in the ambitions and 
 sensualities of earth during his residence in Carthage, 
 whither he had repaired for literary culture after 
 previous studies at Tagaste and Madaura, when, in 
 his nineteenth year, the Hortensius of Cicero wakened 
 a new aspiration within him after the truth. But, with 
 all his newly-awakened longing after a higher life, the 
 power to realize his aspiration was ever wanting. ; As a 
 teacher of rhetoric at Carthage (from 376), afterwards 
 at Rome, and finally at Milan (from 384), he was con- 
 tinually wavering between the world and God, in a 
 constant conflict between his ambition and lust on the 
 one hand, and the unmistakable remorse and aspirings 
 of his soul, and the prayers and tears of his mother, on 
 the other. For nine years he sought for truth among 
 the Manicheans, who did not demand or insist upon faith, 
 but talked much of a higher cognition of the reason ; 
 and who, by employing apparently Christian phrase-
 
 Introduction. xxxv 
 
 ology, seemed to join on upon the ineradicable impres- 
 sions and instructions of his childhood. Seeing himself 
 deceived, he began to fall into scepticism, and was again 
 speculatively reestablished by the Platonic philosophy. 
 But he could not find in this human system the two 
 things he was seeking for, namely, peace with conscience 
 and God, and the renovating power requisite to a holy 
 life. Through various remarkable providences, and 
 stormy conflicts, both of the outer and the inner life, 
 he was, at length, in the year 386, at Milan, brought to 
 a believing reception of the gospel, in its purity and 
 simplicity, a crisis for which the preparation had long 
 been going on in his soul, and which was accelerated by 
 the startling impression made upon him by the passage 
 in Romans xiii. 13, 14, to which he had casually opened, 
 on seeming to hear from on high, in a moment of deep 
 spiritual despondency, the words: "Tolle, lege" He 
 received baptism, together with his natural son, Adeo- 
 datus, a youth of fifteen, on Easter-Sunday, 387, from 
 bishop Ambrose, to whose spiritual instructions he was 
 greatly indebted for his new experience. From this 
 time onward, he drew without* ceasing from the fountain 
 of light and peace which welled up within, and there fol- 
 lowed that new and ever-expanding life of consecration 
 to God, of Christian knowledge and holiness, which has 
 made him a teacher for all succeeding centuries. Au-
 
 xxxvi Introduction* 
 
 gustine gave up the profession of a rhetorician, which 
 had in various ways ministered to his vanity, and in 388 
 returned to Africa, where, though feeling himself to be 
 unfit for the office, he was made presbyter in 391, and, 
 in 395 (at the pressing request of the aged bishop Val- 
 erius, and in ignorance of the church statute forbidding 
 it), co-bishop, and then, probably in 396, sole bishop 
 of Hippo Regius in Numidia. Here he labored, not 
 merely for his own particular charge, but also, by 
 training up capable teachers and clergymen, and in all 
 other ways, for the entire North- African church, which 
 he led and guided by the power of his intellect, with 
 manifest blessing. In the last part of his life, he was 
 compelled to see great suffering befall his church and 
 native land, from the Vandals, and finally died, August 
 28, 430, hi Hippo, which had already been closely be- 
 sieged three months by them, spending the last ten 
 days of his life absorbed in meditation and prayer." 
 
 THE EDITOR. 
 
 AXDOVZB.
 
 THE 
 
 CONFESSIONS OF AUGUSTINE, 
 
 BISHOP OF HIPPO. 
 
 THE FIRST BOOK. 
 
 CONFESSION OF THE GREATNESS AND UNSEARCHABLENE88 OF GOD 
 OF GOD'S MERCIES IN INFANCY AND BOYHOOD, AND HUMAN WIL- 
 FULNES8 OF HIS OWN SINS OF IDLENESS, ABUSE OF HIS STUDIES, 
 AND OF GOD'S GIFTS UP TO HIS FIFTEENTH YEAR. 
 
 I. 1. Great art Thou, Lord, and greatly to be 
 praised; great is Thy poicer, and Thy wisdom in- 
 finite* And Thee man would praise ; man, but a 
 particle of Thy creation ; man, that bears about him 
 his mortality, the witness of his sin, the witness that 
 TJwu, O God, resistest the proud: 2 yet would man 
 praise Thee; he, but a particle of Thy creation. 
 Thou awakest us to delight in Thy praise ; for Thou 
 madest us for Thyself, and our heart is restless, un- 
 til 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 
 
 1 Ts. cxlv. 3; cxlvii. 5. 2 Jas. iv. 6; 1 Pet. v. 5.
 
 The greatness of God. 
 
 that knowcth 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 whom they have not believed? or how shall 
 they believe without a jireacher?* and they that seek 
 the Lord shall praise Him: 2 for they that seek shall 
 find Him? and they that find shall praise Him. I 
 will seek Thee, Lord, by calling on Thee ; and I will 
 call on Thee, believing in Thee ; for to us hast Thou 
 been preached. My faith, Lord, shall call on Thee, 
 which Thou hast given me, wherewith Thou hast 
 inspired me, through the Incarnation of Thy Son, 
 through the ministry of thy 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 into 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 m 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, wert Thou not in me ? Why ? 
 because I am not gone down in hell, and yet Thou 
 art there also. For if I go down into hell, Thou art 
 there* I could not be then, O my God, could not be 
 at all, wert Thou not in me ; or, rather, unless I were 
 
 1 Itom. x. 14. 2 Ts xxii. 26. 3 Matt. vii. 7. < Fs. cxxxix. 7.
 
 Difficulties in conceiving of God. . 3 
 
 in Thee, of ichom are all things, by whom are all 
 things, in whom are all things? 1 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 should come into me, who hath said, 
 I fill the heaven and the, earth? 
 
 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 xiphoid Thee not, since, though 
 they were broken, Thou wert not poured out. And 
 when Thou art poured out 3 on us, Thou art not cast 
 down, but Thou upliftest us ; Thou art not dissipated, 
 but Thou gatherest us. But Thou who fillest all 
 things, fillest Thou them with Thy whole self? or, 
 since all things cannot contain Thee wholly, do they 
 contain part of Thee? and all at once the same part? 
 or each its own part, the greater more, the smaller 
 less ? And is, then, one part of Thee greater, an- 
 other less? or, art Thou wholly everywhere, while 
 nothing contains Thee wholly ? 
 
 IV. 4. What art Thou, then, my God? what, but 
 the Lord God? For icho is Lord but the Lord f or 
 who is God save our God?* Most highest, most 
 
 1 Rom. xi. 36. - Jer. xxiii. 24. 3 Acts ii. 18. < 1's. xvii. 31.
 
 4 God's attributes to men contradictory. 
 
 good, most potent, most omnipotent ; most merciful, 
 yet most just ; most hidden, yet most present ; most 
 beautiful, yet most strong ; stable, yet incomprehen- 
 sible ; unchangeable, yet all-changing ; never new, 
 never old ; all-renewing, and bringing age upon the 
 proud, and they know it not; ever working, ever at 
 rest ; still gathering, yet not lacking ; supporting, fill- 
 ing, and overspreading; 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 usury. 1 Thou receivest over and above, 
 that Thou mayest owe ; and who hath aught that is 
 not Thine? Thou payest debts, owing nothing; 
 remittest debts, losing nothing. And what have I 
 now said, my God, my life, my holy joy? 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 inebri- 
 ate it, that I may forget my ills, and embrace Thee, 
 my sole good ! "What art Thou to me, O Lord ? 
 Have mercy on me, that I may tell. Or what am I 
 to Thee, that Thou shouldest command me to love 
 Thee, yea, and be angry with me, and threaten to 
 lay huge miseries upon me, if I love Thee not ? Is 
 
 i Matt. xxv. 27.
 
 God's mercies in Infancy. 
 
 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 TJiy salva- 
 tion; 1 but say it so that I may hear Thee. Behold, 
 Lord, my heart is before Thee ; open Thou the ears 
 thereof, and say unto my soul, I am thy salvation* I 
 will run after the sound of Thy voice, and lay hold 
 on Thee. Hide not Thou Thy face from me. Let 
 me die that so I may see it ; lest otherwise I may so 
 die as not to see it. 
 
 6. The house of my soul is too strait for Thee to 
 come into ; but let it, O Lord, be enlarged, that Thou 
 mayest enter in. It is ruinous ; repair Thou it. It 
 has that within which must offend Thine eyes ; I con- 
 fess and know it. But who shall cleanse it ? or to 
 whom should I cry out, save Thee ? Cleanse me 
 from my secret faults, Lord, and forgive those 
 offences to Tliy servant which he has caused in otlier 
 folks. I believe 2 in Thee, and therefore do I speak? 
 O Lord, Thou knowest this. Have I not confessed 
 against myself my transgressions unto TJiee, and, 
 Thou, my God, hast forgiven the iniquity of my 
 heart?* I contend not in judgment with Thee, 5 who 
 art truth ; I fear to deceive myself; lest my sin 
 should make me think that lam not sinful. 6 There- 
 fore I contend not in judgment with Thee ; for if 
 Thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, Lord, who 
 shall abide it ? T 
 
 1 Ps. xxxv. 3. 4 Pg. xxxii. 5. 6 P 8 . xxvi. 12. Vnlg. 
 
 2 Ps. xix. 12, 13. 5 Job ix. 3. 1 Ps. cxxx. 3. 
 
 3 Ps. cxvi. 10.
 
 Wilful-ness of Infancy. 
 
 VI. 7. Yet suffer Thou me to speak unto Thy 
 mercy, me, dust and- ashes. 1 Yet suffer me to speak, 
 since I speak to Thy mercy, and not to scornful man. 
 Thou too, perhaps, dost laugh at me, yet wilt Thou 
 turn and have compassion* upon me. For what 
 would I say, O Lord my God, but that I know not 
 whence I came into this dying life (shall I call it?) 
 or living death. Then immediately did the comforts 
 of Thy compassion take me up, as I heard (for I 
 remember it not) from the parents of my flesh, out 
 of whose substance Thou didst sometime fashion me. 
 Then the comforts of woman's milk entertained me. 
 For neither my mother nor my nurses stored their 
 own breasts for me ; but Thou didst bestow the food 
 of my infancy through them, according to Thine ordi- 
 nance, 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 
 TBec, O God, are all good things, and from my God 
 is all my health. This I afterwards learned, when 
 Thou, through these Thy benedictions, within me 
 and without, proclaimedst Thyself unto me. For 
 then I knew but to suck ; to repose in what pleased, 
 and cry at what offended my flesh ; nothing more. 
 
 8. Afterwards I began to smile ; first in sleep, then 
 
 l Gen. xviii. 27. 2 Jer. xii. 15.
 
 Wilftdness of Infancy. 
 
 waking; for so it was told me of myself, and I be- 
 lieved it; for we see the like in other infants, though 
 
 f ' O 
 
 of myself I remember it not. Thus, little by little, 
 I began to find where I was; and to have a wish 
 to express my wishes to those who could content 
 them, and I could not ; for the wishes were within 
 me, and those persons without ; nor could they by 
 any sense of theirs enter within my soul. So I flung 
 about at random limbs and voice, making the few 
 signs I could, and such as I could, like, though in 
 truth very little like, what I wished. And when I 
 was not presently obeyed (my wishes being hurtful 
 or unintelligible), then I was indignant with my el- 
 ders for not submitting to me ; with those owing me 
 no service, for not serving me ; and avenged myself 
 on them by tears. Such have I learnt infants to be 
 from observing them ; and, that I was myself such, 
 they, all unconscious, have shown me better than 
 my nurses who knew it. 
 
 9. And, lo ! my infancy died long since, and I live. 
 But Thou, Lord, who for ever livest, and in whom 
 nothing dies : for before the foundation of the worlds, 
 and before all that can be called " before," Thou art, 
 and art God and Lord of all which Thou hast cre- 
 ated : in Thee abide, fixed for ever, the first causes 
 of all things unabiding; and of all things changeable, 
 the springs abide in Thee unchangeable: and in Thee 
 live the eternal reasons of all things unreasoning and 
 
 o o 
 
 temporal. Say, Lord, to me, Thy suppliant ; say, all- 
 pitying, to me, Thy pitiable one ; say, did my infancy 
 succeed another age of mine that died before it?
 
 8 Weakness of Infancy. 
 
 Was it that which I spent within my mother's womb? 
 for of that I have heard somewhat, and have myself 
 seen wo.men with child. And what, again, was I be- 
 fore that life, O God my joy? Was I anywhere or 
 anybody ? For this have I none to tell me, neither 
 father nor mother, nor experience of others, nor 
 mine own memory. Dost Thou laugh at me for 
 asking this and bid me praise Thee and acknowl- 
 edge Thee, for that which I do know ? 
 
 10. I acknowledge Thee, Lord of heaven and 
 earth, and praise Thee for my first rudiments of 
 being, and my infancy, whereof I remember nothing; 
 for Thou hast appointed that man should from others 
 guess much as to himself; and believe much on the 
 authority of simple women. Even then I had a 
 being and a life, and (at my infancy's close) I sought 
 for signs, whereby to make myself known to others. 
 Whence could such a being be, save from Thee, 
 Lord? Shall any be his own artificer? or can there 
 elsewhere be derived any vein, which may stream 
 essence and life into us, save from Thee, O Lord, in 
 whom essence and life are not several but one ? for 
 supremely to live is the very thing in itself which 
 Thou art. For Thou art supreme, and art not 
 changed^ neither in Thee doth to-day come to a 
 close ; yet in Thee doth it come to a close ; because 
 all transitory things also are in Thee. For they had 
 no way to pass away, unless Thou upheldest them. 
 And since Thy years fail not? Thy years are one to- 
 day. How many of ours and our fathers' years have 
 
 1 Mai. iii. 6. 2 Ps. cii. 27.
 
 Sinf idness in infants without actual sin. 9 
 
 flowed away through Thy " to-day," and from it re- 
 ceived the measure and the mould of a kind of 
 being ; and still others shall flow away, and so 
 receive the mould of their kind of being. But Thou 
 art still the same, 1 and all things of to-morrow, and 
 all beyond, and all of yesterday, and all behind it, 
 Thou wilt do in this "to-day," Thou hast done iu 
 this " to-day." What is it to me, though any com- 
 prehend not this? Let him also rejoice and say, 
 What thing is this. 2 Let him rejoice even thus ; 
 and be content rather by not discovering to discover 
 Thee, than by discovering not to discover Thee. 
 
 VII. 11. Hear, O God. Alas, for man's sin! So 
 saith man, and Thou pitiest him ; for Thou madest 
 him, but sin in him Thou madest not. Who reniind- 
 eth me of the sins of my infancy ? for in Thy sight 
 none is pure from sin, not even the infant whose life 
 is but a day upon the earth. 3 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 in itself worthy reproof; but since I could 
 not understand reproof, custom and reason forbade 
 me to be reproved. For such things, when we are 
 grown, we root out and cast away. Now, no man, 
 though he prunes, wittingly casts away what is good. 4 
 Or was it then good, even for a while, to cry for what, 
 if given, would hurt? bitterly to resent, that persons 
 
 l Ps. cii. 27. 2 Exod. xvi. 15. 3 Job xxv. 4. < John xv. 2.
 
 10 Infanffs malice and God's goodness. 
 
 free-born, and its own elders, yea, the very authors 
 of its birth, served it not ? that many besides, wiser 
 than it, obeyed not the nod of its good pleasure ? 
 to do its best to strike and hurt, because 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. "Who knows not this ? Mothers and nurses 
 tell you, that they allay these things by I know not 
 what remedies. Is that too innocence, when the 
 fountain of milk is flowing in rich abundance, not to 
 endure one to share it though in extremes! 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 tempera are 
 utterly intolerable when found in riper years. 
 
 12. Thou, then, O Lord my God, who gavest life 
 to this my infancy, furnishing thus with senses (as 
 we see) the frame Thou gavest, compacting its limbs, 
 beautifying its proportions, and, for its general good 
 and safety, implanting in it all vital functions, Thou 
 commandest me to praise Thee in these tilings, to 
 confess unto 27ice, and sing unto TJiy name, Thou 
 most High. 1 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 own beauty 
 
 l Ps. xcii. 1.
 
 Learning to speak, 1 1 
 
 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 from other infants -that I have passed, true 
 though the guess be, I am yet loath 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 I was shopen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother 
 conceive me, 1 where, I beseech Thee, O my God, 
 where, Lord, or when, was I Thy servant guiltless? 
 But, lo ! that period I pass by ; for what have I now 
 to do with that, of. which I can recall no vestige ? 
 
 VIII. lo. From the state of infancy, I 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 no longer a speech- 
 less infant, but a speaking boy. This I remember ; 
 and have since observed how I learned to speak. It 
 was not that my elders taught me words (as, soon 
 after, other learning) in any set method ; but I, long- 
 ing 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 understand- 
 ing which Thou, my God, gavest me, practise the 
 sounds in my memory. When they named anything, 
 and as they spoke turned towards it, I saw and re- 
 membered that they called what they would point 
 out, by the name they uttered. And that they 
 
 1 Ps. li. 7.
 
 12 Childish griefs great to children. 
 
 meant this thing and no other, was plain from the 
 motion of their body, the 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, indicating the affections of the mind, 
 as it pursues, possesses, rejects, or shuns. And thus 
 by constantly hearing words, as they occurred in va- 
 rious 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 I 
 exchanged with those about me these current signs 
 of our wills, and so launched deeper into the stormy 
 intercourse of human life, yet depending on parental 
 authority and the beck of elders. 
 
 IX. 14. O God, my God, what miseries and mock- 
 eries did I now experience, when obedience to my 
 teachers was proposed to me, as proper in a boy, in 
 order that in this world I might prosper, and excel 
 in tongue-science, which should serve to the \" praise 
 of men," and to 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 our forefathers; and many, passing the same 
 course before us, framed for us weary paths, through 
 which we were fain to pass ; multiplying toil and 
 grief upon the sons of Adam. But, O Lord, we found 
 that men called upon Thee, and we learnt from them 
 to think of Thee (according to our powers) as of 
 some great One, who, though hidden from our senses, 
 could hear and help us. So I began, yet a boy, to
 
 Inconsistency toward children. 13 
 
 pray to Thee for aid and refuge ; and I broke the 
 fetters of my tongue to call on Thee, praying, 
 though small, yet with no small earnestness, that I 
 might not be beaten at school. And when Thou 
 heardest me not (not thereby giving me over to 
 fotty)^ my elders, yea, my very parents, who yet 
 wished me no ill, laughed at my stripes, my then 
 great and grievous misery. 
 
 15. Is there, Lord, any of soul so great, and cleav- 
 ing to Thee with so intense affection (for a sort of 
 stupidity will in a way do it) ; but is there any one 
 who, from cleaving devoutly to Thee, is endued with 
 so great a spirit, that he can think as lightly of the 
 racks and hooks and other torments (against which, 
 throughout all lands, men call on Thee with extreme 
 dread), and make sport at those by whom they are 
 feared most bitterly, as our parents laughed at the tor- 
 ments which we suffered in boyhood from our mas- 
 ters? For we feared not those torments less than the 
 martyrs theirs, nor prayed we less to escape them. 
 And yet we sinned, in writing, or reading, or study- 
 ing less than was exacted of us. For we wanted not, 
 O Lord, memory or capacity, whereof Thy will' gave 
 enough for our age ; but our sole delight was play ; 
 and for this we were punished by those who yet them- 
 selves were doing the like. But elder folks' idleness 
 is called " business ;" that of boys, although really the 
 same, is punished by those elders ; and none commis- 
 erate either boys or men. For will any of sound dis- 
 discretion approve of my being beaten as a boy, be- 
 
 i I's. xxi. 3. Vulg. 
 4
 
 14 Inconsistency totcard children. 
 
 cause, by playing at ball, I made less progress in 
 studies which I was to learn, only that, as a man, I 
 might play more dangerously ? for how else was it 
 with him who beat me? if worsted in some trifling 
 discussion with his fellow-tutor, he was more embit- 
 tered and jealous than I, when beaten at ball by a 
 play-fellow ? 
 
 X. 16. And yet, I sinned herein, O Lord God, the 
 Greater and Orderer of all things in nature, of sin 
 the Orderer 1 only, O Lord my God, I sinned in 
 transgressing the commands of my parents and those 
 of my masters. For what they, with whatever motive 
 would have me learn, I might afterward have put to 
 good use ; and I disobeyed, not from a better choice, 
 but from love of play, loving the pride of victory in 
 my contests, and to have my ears tickled with lying 
 fables, that they might itch the more ; the same cu- 
 riosity flashing from my eyes more and more, for the 
 shows, and games of my elders. Yet those who give 
 these shows are in such esteem, that almost all wish 
 the same for their children, and yet are very willing 
 that they should be beaten, if those very games de- 
 tain them from the studies, whereby they would 
 have them attain to be the givers of them. Look 
 with pity, Lord, on these things, and deliver us who 
 call upon Thee now ; deliver those too who call not 
 on Thee yet, that they may call on Thee, and Thou 
 mayest deliver them. 
 
 XI. 17. As a boy, then, I had already heard of an 
 eternal life, promised us through the humility of the 
 
 i Ordinator.
 
 Baptism wronyly deferred. 15 
 
 Lord our God stooping to our pride ; and even from 
 the womb of my mother, who greatly hoped in Thee, 
 I was sealed with the mark of His cross and salted 
 with His salt. 1 Thou sawest, Lord, how while yet a 
 boy, being seized on a time with sudden oppression 
 of the stomach, and like near to death Thou saw- 
 est, my God (for Thou wert my keeper), with what 
 eagerness and what faith I sought, from the pious 
 care of my mother and Thy Church, the mother 
 of us all, the baptism of Thy Christ my God and 
 Lord. Whereupon the mother of my flesh, being 
 much troubled (since, with a heart pure in Thy 
 faith, she even more lovingly travailed in birth 2 of 
 my salvation), would in eager haste have provided 
 for my consecration and cleansing by the health-giv- 
 ing 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 already believed : 
 and my mother, and the whole household, except my 
 father : yet did not he prevail over the power of my 
 mother's piety in me, that as he did not yet believe, 
 so neither should I. For it was her earnest care, 
 that Thoii my God, rather than he, shouldst be my 
 father ; and in this Thou didst aid her to prevail over 
 her husband, whom she, although she was the better 
 
 1 Salt was at this time administered at baptism as emblematic, and 
 with allusion to Mark 9: 49. But the baptism was delayed. ED. 
 
 2 Gal. iv. 19.
 
 1 G Augustine compelled to learn. 
 
 of the two, obeyed, because this was obeying Thee, 
 who hast so commanded. 
 
 18. I beseech Thee, my God, I would fain know, 
 if so Thou wiliest, for what purpose my baptism was 
 then defei-red? 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 our 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 truly. But how many and great waves of 
 temptation seemed to hang over me after my boy- 
 hood ! These my mother foresaw ; and preferred to 
 expose to them the clay whence I might afterwards 
 be moulded, than the very cast, when made. 
 
 XII. 19. In boyhood itself, however (so much less 
 dreaded for me than youth), I loved not study, and 
 hated to be forced to it. Yet I was forced ; and this 
 was weU done towards me, but I did not well ; for, 
 unless forced, I had not learnt. But no one doth 
 well against his will, even though what he doth, be 
 well. Yet neither did they well who forced me, but 
 what was well came to me from Thee, my God. For 
 they were regardless how I should employ what they 
 forced me to learn, except to satiate the insatiate de- 
 sires of a wealthy beggary, and a shameful glory. 
 But Thou, by whom the very hairs of our head are
 
 Augustine compelled to learn. 17 
 
 numbered, 1 didst use for my good the error of all 
 who urged me to learn; and my own, who would 
 not leai-n, Thou didst use for my punishment a fit 
 penalty for one, so small a boy and so great a sinner. 
 So by those who did not well, Thou didst well for 
 me ; and by my own sin Thou didst justly punish 
 me. For Thou hast commanded, and so it is, that 
 every inordinate affection should be its own punish- 
 ment. 
 
 XIII. .20. But why did I so much hate the Greek, 
 which I studied as a boy? I do not yet fully know. 
 For the Latin I loved ; not what my first masters, 
 but what the so-called grammarians taught me. For 
 those first lessons, reading, writing, and arithmetic, I 
 thought as great a burden and penalty as any Greek. 
 And yet whence was this too, but from the sin and 
 vanity of this life, because I teas 'flesh, and a breath 
 that passeth away and cometh not again? 2 For 
 those first lessons were better certainly, because more 
 certain; by them I obtained, and still retain, the 
 power of reading what I find written, and myself 
 writing what I will; whereas in the others, I was 
 forced to learn and lay up the wanderings of I know 
 not what ^Eneas, while I forgot my own, and to weep 
 for Dido dead, because she killed herself for love ; 
 the while, with dry eyes, I endured my miserable self 
 to depart, and die from Thee, O my God and my life. 
 
 21. For what more miserable than a miserable be- 
 ing who pities not himself; but weeps the death of 
 Dido for love to ^Eneas, instead of weeping his own 
 
 l Matt. x. 30. 2 p g . Ixxviii. 39.
 
 1 8 Poetry a vanity to the unregenerate. 
 
 death for want of love to Thee, O God. Thou light 
 of my heart, Thou bread of nay inmost soul, Thou 
 Power who givest vigor to my mind, who quicken- 
 est my thoughts, I loved Thee not. I committed 
 fornication against Thee, and all around me also 
 fornicating echoed "Well done! well done!" for 
 the friendship of this world is fornication against 
 Thee y 1 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, 
 earth passing into the earth. And if forbid to read 
 all this, I was grieved that I might not read what 
 grieved me. Madness like this is thought a higher 
 and a richer learning, than that by which I learned 
 to read and write. 
 
 22. But now, my God, cry Thou aloud in my soul, 
 and let Thy truth tell me, " Not so, not so. Far bet- 
 ter was that first study." For, lo, I would readily 
 forget the wanderings of ^Eneas and all the rest, 
 rather than how to read and write. But over the 
 entrance of the Grammar School is a veil drawn. 
 True. Yet is this not so much an emblem of aught 
 recondite, as a cloak of error. Let not those, whom 
 I no longer fear, cry out* against me, while I confess 
 to Thee, my God, whatever my soul will, and ac- 
 quiesce in the condemnation of my evil ways, that I 
 may love thy good ways. Let not either buyers or 
 
 i Jam. iv. 4.
 
 Irksomcness of learning. 19 
 
 sellers of grammar-learning cry out against me. For 
 if I question them whether it be true, that JEneas 
 came on a time to Carthage, as the Poet tells, the 
 less learned will reply that they know not, the more 
 learned that he never did. But should I ask with 
 what letters the name "^Eneas" is written, every one 
 who has learnt this will answer me aright, as to the 
 signs which men have conventionally 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 fore- 
 see, what all must answer who have not wholly for- 
 gotten themselves ? I sinned, then, when as a boy 
 I preferred those empty to those more profitable 
 studies, or rather loved the one and hated the other. 
 " One and one, two ; " " two and two, four ; " this was 
 to me a hateful sing-song : " the wooden horse lined 
 with armed men" and " the burning of Troy," 1 and 
 " Creusa's shade and sad similitude," were the choice 
 spectacle of my vanity. 
 
 XIV. 23. Why then did I hate the Greek classics, 
 which have the like tales? For Homer also curi- 
 ously wove the like fictions, and is most sweetly-vain, 
 yet was he bitter to my boyish taste. And so I sup- 
 pose would Virgil be to Grecian children, when 
 forced to learn him as I was Homer. Difficulty, in 
 truth, the difficulty 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
 
 20 Evils in classical study 
 
 cruel threats and punishments. Time was also (as 
 an infant), I knew no Latin ; but this I learned with- 
 out 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 concep- 
 tions, which I could only do by learning words ; but 
 it was not of teachers, but of those who talked with 
 me ; in whose ears also I gave birth to the thoughts 
 which I conceived. Hereby it appears that free 
 curiosity has more force in our learning of tongues 
 than frightful enforcement. Only this enforcement 
 restrains the rovings of that freedom, through Thy 
 laws, O my God, which begin with the master's 
 ferule, and go on to the martyr's torments, temper- 
 ing for us a wholesome bitter, recalling us to Thyself 
 from that deadly pleasure which lures us from Thee. 
 XV. 24. Hear, Lord, my prayer ; let not my soul 
 faint under Thy discipline, nor let me faint in con- 
 fessing 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 
 entirely love Thee, and clasp Thy hand with all the 
 roots of my heart, and Thou mayest yet rescue me 
 from every temptation, even unto the end. For, lo, O 
 Lord, my King and my God, for Thy service be what- 
 ever useful thing my childhood learned ; for Thy ser- 
 vice, that I speak write read reckon. For Thou 
 didst grant me Thy discipline, while I was learning
 
 degrading God and man. 21 
 
 vanities ; and my sin of delighting 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 shall the sons 
 of Eve roll and toss in that huge and hideous sea, 
 which even they scarcely overpass who are shipped in 
 the cross ? Did not I read in thee of Jove the thun- 
 derer and the adulterer? both, doubtless, he could 
 not be ; but so the feigned thunderer might counte- 
 nance and pander the real adulterer. And now, 
 which of our gowned masters would hear one 1 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 fic- 
 tions ; attributing a divine nature 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 promise of rich reward, for 
 compassing such learning ; and a great solemnity is 
 made of it, when this is going on in the forum, within 
 sight of laws appointing a salary beside the scholar's 
 payments ; and thou lashest thy rocks and roarest, 
 "Hence words are learnt; hence eloquence; most 
 
 1 Cicero in Tusc. Qiuzst., I. 26. ED.
 
 22 Evils in classical study. 
 
 necessary to gain your ends, or maintain opinions." 
 As if we should have never known such words as 
 " golden shower," " lap," " beguile," " temples of the 
 heavens," or others in that passage, 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 heaven'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. 1 
 
 Not one whit more easily are the words learnt for 
 all this vileness ; but by their means the vileness is 
 committed with less shame. Not that I blame the 
 words, being, as it were, choice and precious vessels ; 
 but that wine of error which is drunk to us in them 
 by intoxicated 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 hurt may remember this), all this un- 
 happy I learnt willingly with great delight, and for 
 this was pronounced a hopeful boy. 
 
 XVII. 27. Bear with 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, 
 
 1 Terentii EunueAus, 3, 5, 36 sq. ED.
 
 Human knoicledgc preferred to divine. 23 
 
 and fear of stripes, to speak the words of Juno, as 
 she raged and mourned that she could not 
 
 This Trojan prince from Latium turn. 
 
 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 what the 
 poet had 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 char- 
 acter. What is it to me, O my true life, my God, 
 that my declamation was applauded above so many 
 of my own age and class ? Was 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 Scriptures; so had it 
 not trailed away amid these empty trifles, a defiled 
 prey for the spirits of the air. For in more ways 
 than one do men sacrifice to the rebellious angels. 
 
 XVIII. 28. But what marvel that I was thus car- 
 ried away to vanities, and estranged from Thee, 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 barbarism or solecism, were 
 abashed ; but when in rich and adorned and well-or- 
 dered discourse they related their own disordered life 
 they gloried? These things Thou seest, Lord, and 
 holdest Thy peace; long-suffering, and plenteous in 
 mercy and truth. 1 Wilt Thou hold Thy peace for- 
 
 1 Ps. Ixxxvi. 15.
 
 24 Human knowledge preferred to divine. 
 
 ever? Even now Thou drawest out of this hor- 
 rible gulf the soul that seeketh Thee, that thirsteth 
 for Thy pleasures, whose heart saith unto Thee I 
 have sought Thy face; Thy face, Lord, will I seek. 1 
 For darkened* affection is removal from Thee. For 
 it is not by our feet, or change of place, that we 
 leave Thee, or return unto Thee. Nor did that 
 younger son of Thine 3 look out for horses or chari- 
 ots, or ships, and fly with visible wings, or journey 
 by the motion of his limbs, that he might in a far 
 country waste in riotous living all Thou gavest at 
 his departure. A loving Father Thou wert when 
 Thou gavest, but more loving unto him wert Thou 
 when he returned empty. Therefore in unclean, 
 that is, in darkened affections, is the true distance 
 from Thy face. 
 
 29. Behold, O Lord God, yea, behold patiently as 
 Thou art wont, how carefully the sons of men ob- 
 serve the covenanted rules of letters and syllables 
 that those who spake before them used, neglect- 
 ing the eternal covenant of everlasting salvation re- 
 ceived from Thee. Inasmuch, 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 gram- 
 mar, than if he, a " human being," hate a " human 
 being " in despite of Thee. As if an enemy could 
 be more hurtful than the hatred with which he is in- 
 censed against another; or could wound more deeply 
 him whom he persecutes, than he wounds his own 
 
 1 Ts. xxvii. 8. 2 Rom. i. 21. 3 Luke xv. 12 sq.
 
 Inconsistent waywardness of his childhood. 25 
 
 soul by his enmity. Assuredly no science of letters 
 can be so innate as tbe record of conscience, " that 
 he is doing to another what from another he would 
 be loath to suffer." How deep are Thy ways, O God, 
 Thou only great that sittest silent on high * and by 
 an unwearied law dispensing penal blindness to law- 
 less desires. In quest of the fame of eloquence, a 
 man standing before a human judge, surrounded by 
 a human throng, declaiming against his enemy with 
 fiercest hatred, will take heed most watchfully, lest, 
 by an error of the tongue, he murder the word 
 " human being ;" but takes no heed, lest, through the 
 malice of his heart, he murder the real human being. 
 30. This was the world at whose gate I lay while 
 yet a boy ; this the stage, when I had feared more 
 to commit a barbarism, than having committed one, 
 to envy those who had not. These things I speak 
 and confess to Thee, my God ; for which I had praise 
 from them, whom I then thought it all virtue to 
 please. For I saw not the abyss of vileness, wherein 
 I was cast away from thine eyes? Before Thine 
 eyes what was more foul than I, displeasing even to 
 such as myself? with innumerable lies deceiving my 
 tutor, my masters, my parents, out of love of play, 
 eagerness to see vain shows and restlessness to imi- 
 tate them ! Thefts also I committed, from my par- 
 ents' cellar and table, enslaved by greediness, or that 
 I might have to give to boys, who sold me their 
 games, which all the while they liked no less than I. 
 In play, too, I often sought unfair conquests, being 
 
 1 Is. xxxiii 5. 2 Ps. xxxi. 22.
 
 26 All admirable in him, but his sin. 
 
 conquered myself by vain desire of preeminence. 
 And what could I so impatiently endure, or, when 
 I detected it, upbraid so fiercely, as that which I 
 was doing to others; and yet when I was detected 
 and upbraided, I chose rather to quarrel than to 
 yield. And is this the innocence prone to 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 sparrows, to magistrates and kings, 
 to gold and manors and slaves, just as severer pun- 
 ishments displace the ferule. It was the low stature 
 then of childhood, which Thou our King didst corn- 
 mend as an emblem of lowliness, when Thou saidst, 
 Of such is the kingdom of heaven?- 
 
 31. Yet, Lord, to Thee, the Creator and Governor 
 of the universe, most excellent and most good, thanks 
 were due to Thee our God, even hadst Thou des- 
 tined for me boyhood only. For even then I was, I 
 lived, and felt; and had an implanted providence 
 over my own individual welfare, 2 which is a kind of 
 miniature of that mysterious Unity of Thine, whence 
 I am derived. By an inward instinct, I preserved 
 the integrity of my senses, and in these minute pur- 
 suits, and in my thoughts on things minute, I learnt 
 to delight in truth. I hated to be deceived ; I had 
 a vigorous memory, was gifted with speech, was re- 
 galed by friendship, avoided pain of body, baseness 
 of mind, ignorance. In so small a creature, what was 
 not wonderful, admirable ? But all were gifts of my 
 
 1 Matt. xix. 14. 2 Meamque incolumitatem .... cure habcbam-
 
 All admirable in him, but his sin. 27 
 
 God ; it was not I, who gave them me ; and good 
 these are, and these together are myself. Good, then, 
 is He that made me, and He is my good ; and before 
 Him will I exult for every good which as a boy I 
 had. But herein I sin, that not in Him, but in His 
 creatures myself and others I sought for pleas- 
 ures, sublimities, truths, and so fell headlong into 
 sorrows, confusions, errors. Thanks be to Thee, 
 my joy and my glory and my confidence, my God, 
 thanks be to Thee for Thy gifts; but do Thou pre- 
 serve them to me. For so wilt Thou preserve me, 
 and those things shall be enlarged and perfected, 
 which thou hast given me, and I myself shall be with 
 Thee, since Thou hast given me my being.
 
 THE SECOND BOOK. 
 
 OBJECT OP THESE CONFESSIONS FtTRTHER ILLS OP IDLENESS DEVEL- 
 OPED IN HIS SIXTEENTH YEAR EVILS OF ILL SOCIETY. WHICH 
 BETKAYED HIM INTO THEFT. 
 
 I. 1. I will now call to mind my past foulness, 
 and the carnal corruptions of my soul ; not because 
 I love them, but that I may love Thee, O my God. 
 For love of Thy love I do it ; reviewing my most 
 wicked ways in the very bitterness of my remem- 
 brance, that Thou mayest grow sweet . unto me : 
 O Thou sweetness never failing, Thou blissful and 
 assured sweetness, gathering me again out of that 
 dissipation wherein I was torn piecemeal, being 
 turned from Thee, the One Good, and lost among a 
 multiplicity of things. For in my youth I burned 
 to be satiated, and dared to grow rank and wild with 
 various and shadowy loves: my beauty consumed 
 away, and I went rotting in Thine eyes ; pleasing 
 myself, and desirous to please 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 be- 
 clouded and overcast my heart, that I could not dis- 
 cern the clear brightness of love, from the fog of
 
 Object of these confessions. 21) 
 
 lustfulncss. Both did confusedly boil in me, and 
 hurried my unstayed youth over the precipice of 
 unholy desires, and sunk me in a gulf of flagitious- 
 ness. Thy wrath had gathered over me, and I knew 
 it not. I was grown deaf by the clanking 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 for- 
 nications, and Thou heldest Thy peace, O Thou my 
 tardy joy! Thou then heldest Thy peace, and I 
 wandered further and further from Thee, into more 
 and more fruitless seed-plots of sorrow, with a proud 
 dejectcdness, and a restless weariness. 
 
 3. Oh ! that some one had then attempered my dis- 
 order, and turned to account the fleeting beauties of 
 these the extreme points of Thy creation ! had put 
 a bound to their pleasurableness, so that the tides of 
 my youth might have cast themselves upon the mar- 
 riage shore, if they could not be calmed, and kept 
 within the object of a family, as Thy law prescribes, 
 O Lord : who this way formest the offspring of this 
 our death, being able with a gentle hand to blunt the 
 thorns, which were excluded from Thy 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 : Neverthe- 
 less such shall have trouble in the flesh, but I s^Kire 
 you. 1 And it is good for a man not to touch a wo- 
 man? And he that is unmarried thinketh of the 
 
 l 1 Cor. vii. 28. 21 Cor. vii. 1.
 
 30 Marts neylect of youth, and God's care of it. 
 
 things of the Lord, how he may please the Lord; but 
 he that is married careth for the things of this world, 
 how he may please his icife. 1 
 
 4. To these words had I listened more attentively, 
 I had more happily awaited Thy embraces ; but I, 
 poor wretch, foamed like a troubled sea, following 
 the rushing of my own tide, forsaking Thee, and 
 transgressing all Thy limitations ; yet I escaped not 
 Thy scourges. For what mortal can? For Thou 
 wert ever with me mercifully cruel, besprinkling 
 with most bitter disgust all my unlawful pleasures : 
 that I might seek pleasures without alloy. But 
 where to find such I could not discover, save in 
 Thee, O Lord, who teachest by sorrcnc, and wo.undest 
 us, to heal ; and killest us, lest we die from Thee. 2 
 Where was I, and how far went I exiled from the 
 delicacies of Thy house, in that sixteenth year of the 
 age of my flesh, when the madness of lust took the 
 rule over me, and I resigned myself wholly to it? 
 My friends meanwhile took no care by marriage to 
 save my fall ; their only care was that I should learn 
 to speak excellently, and be a persuasive orator. 
 
 III. 5. For that year were my studies intermitted : 
 whilst, after my return from Madaura (a neighboring 
 city, whither I had journeyed to learn grammar and 
 rhetoric), the expenses for a further journey to Car- 
 thage were being provided for me ; and that, rather 
 by the resolution than the means of my father, who 
 was but a poor freeman of Tageste. To whom tell 
 I this? not to Thee, my God ; but before Thee to 
 
 1 1 Cor. vii. 32, 33. 2 Deut xxxii 39.
 
 Effects of idleness his mother's fears for him. 31 
 
 mine own kind, even to such small portion of man- 
 kind as may light upon these writings of mine. And 
 to what purpose ? that whosoever reads this, may 
 think out of what depths we are to cry unto Thee. 1 
 For what is nearer to Thine ears than a confessing 
 heart, and a life of faith? Who did not extol my 
 father, that beyond the ability of his means, he would 
 furnish his son with all necessaries for a far journey 
 for his studies' sake ? Many far abler citizens did 
 no such thing for their children. But yet this same 
 father had no concern how I grew towards Thee, or 
 how chaste I were ; nor, were I but copious in speech, 
 how barren in Thy culture, O God, was the field of 
 my heart. 
 
 6. But while in that my sixteenth year I lived with 
 my parents, leaving school for a while (a season 
 of idleness being interposed, through the narrowness 
 of my parents' fortunes), the briers of unclean desire 
 grew rank over my head, and there was no hand to 
 root them out. When my father saw me at the 
 baths, now growing toward manhood, and endued 
 with a restless youthfulness, as if anticipating his 
 descendants, he gladly told it to my mother; rejoic- 
 ing in that tumult of the senses wherein the 
 world forgetteth Thee, its Creator, and bccometh 
 enamoured of Thy creature, instead of Thyself, 
 through the fumes of the invisible wine of its self- 
 will, turning aside and bowing down to the very 
 basest things. But in my mother's breast Thou 
 hadst already Thy temple, and the foundation of 
 
 1 Ps cxxx. 1.
 
 32 God spaJie to him through his motJier. 
 
 Thy holy habitation, whereas my father was as yet 
 but a catechumen, and that but recently. She then 
 was startled with an holy fear and trembling ; and 
 though I was not as yet baptized, feared for me those 
 crooked ways, in which they walk, who turn their 
 back to Thee, and not their face. 1 
 
 7 Woe is me ! and dare I say that Thou heldest 
 Thy peace, O my God, while I wandered further 
 from Thee? Didst Thou then indeed hold Thy 
 peace to me? And whose but thine were those 
 words which by my mother, Thy faithful one, Thou 
 sahgest in my ears? But it entered not into my 
 heart to do as she desired. For she wished, and I 
 remember in private with great anxiety warned me, 
 "not to commit fornication; but especially never to 
 defile another man's wife." These seemed to me old 
 wives' counsels, which I should blush to obey. But 
 they were Thine, and I knew it not ; and I thought 
 Thou wert silent, and that it was she who spake ; by 
 whom Thou wert not silent unto me: and in her 
 person wast Thou despised by me, her son, t/ie son of 
 Thy handmaid, Thy servant. 2 But I knew it not 
 then ; and I ran headlong with such blindness, that 
 amongst my equals I was ashamed to be less vicious, 
 when I heard them boast of their wickedness ; yei, 
 and the more boast, the more they were degraded >; 
 and I took pleasure, not only in the pleasure of the 
 deed, but in the praise. What is worthy of blame 
 but Vice ? But I made myself worse than I was, 
 that I might not be dispraised ; and when in any- 
 
 1 Jer. ii. 27. 2 Ps. cxvi. 1C.
 
 God spake to him through his mother. 33 
 
 tiling I had not sinned like the abandoned ones, I 
 would say that I had done what I had not done, 
 that I might not seem contemptible in proportion as 
 I was innocent : or of less account, the more chaste. 
 8. Behold with 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 be knit the more firmly to the very root 
 of sin, the invisible enemy trod me down, and se- 
 duced me, for I was then made fit matter for him 
 to work upon. Neither did the mother of my flesh 
 (who had now fled out of the centre of Babylon? 
 yet went more slowly in the skirts thereof), al- 
 though she advised me to chastity, so heed what 
 she had heard of me from her husband, as to re- 
 strain within 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 danger- 
 ous. She heeded not this, lest a wife should prove a 
 clog and hindrance to my hopes. Not those hopes 
 of the world to corne, which my mother reposed 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 ac- 
 counted that those usual courses of learning would 
 not only be no hindrance, but even some further- 
 ance towards attaining Thee. Thus I conjecture, re- 
 calling, as well as I may, the disposition of my pa- 
 rents. The reins, meantime, were slackened to me, 
 
 l Jer. li. 6.
 
 34 Theft for the pleasure of thieving. 
 
 beyond all reason, to spend my time in sport, yea, 
 giving too large a scope to ray affections. And in 
 all was a mist, intercepting from me, O my God, the 
 brightness of Thy truth; and mine iniquity burst 
 out as from very fatness^ 
 
 IV. 9. Theft is punished by Thy Law, Lord, 
 and the law written in the hearts of men, which 
 iniquity itself cannot blot out. For what thief will 
 endure a thief? not even a rich thief will endure one 
 who steals through want. Yet I lusted to thieve, and 
 did it, compelled by no hunger, nor poverty, but 
 through a disgust at well-doing, and a pampered- 
 ness of iniquity. For I stole that of which I had 
 enough and much better. Nor cared I to enjoy what I 
 stole, but joyed in the theft and sin itself. A pear tree 
 there was near our vineyard, laden with fruit, tempt- 
 ing neither for color nor taste. To shake and rob 
 this, some lewd young fellows of us went, late one 
 night (having, according to our pestilent custom, pro- 
 longed our sports in the streets till then), and took 
 huge loads, not for our eating, but to fling to the 
 very hogs, having only tasted them. And this we 
 did only because we would do that which was not 
 lawful. 3 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 when I would 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 my 
 
 1 Ps Ixxiii. 7. 
 
 2 Baxter in his autobiography makes a confession almost identical 
 with this one. See Book I It. i. ED.
 
 All sin proposes some end. . 35 
 
 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! 
 
 t V. 10. For there is an attractiveness in beautiful 
 bodies, in gold and silver, and all things; and in 
 bodily touch sympathy has much influence, and 
 each other sense hath his proper object answerably 
 tempered. Worldly honor hath also its grace, and 
 the power of overcoming, and of mastery; whence 
 springs also the thirst of revenge. But yet, to obtain 
 all these, we may not depart from Thee, O Lord, nor 
 decline from Thy law. The life also whereby 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 
 formed of many souls. Upon occasion of all these, 
 and the like, is sin committed, while through an im- 
 moderate 'inclination towards these goods of the 
 lowest order, the better and higher are forsaken, 
 Thyself, our Lord God, Thy truth, and Thy law. 
 For these lower things have their delights, but they 
 are not like my God, who made all things ; for in 
 Him doth the righteous delight, and He is the joy 
 of the upright in heart. 1 
 
 11. When, therefore, inquiry is made why any 
 wickedness was done, it is usually conceived to have 
 proceeded either from the desire of obtaining some 
 of those things which we called lower goods, or 
 
 1 I's. Ixiv. 10.
 
 36 All sin proposes some end, and 
 
 from a fear of losing them. For they are beautiful 
 and comely; although, compared with higher and 
 beatific goods, they be abject and low. A man hath 
 murdered another; why? he loved his wife or his 
 estate; or would rob for his own livelihood; or 
 feared to lose something by him ; or was on fire to 
 be revenged. Would any commit murder only for 
 the delight he takes in murdering ? Who would be- 
 lieve it ? For as for that furious and savage man, of 
 whom it is said that he was gratuitously evil and 
 cruel, yet is the cause assigned; "lest," saith he, 
 " through idleness hand or heart should grow inac- 
 
 O O 
 
 tive." * And to what end ? that, through that prac- 
 tice of guilt, he might, when once he had taken the 
 city, attain to honor, empire, riches, and be freed 
 from fear of the laws, which he feared through the 
 conscience of his own villany, and from the possi- 
 bility of want. So not even Catiline himself loved 
 his own villanies, but something else, to obtain which 
 he would be wicked. 
 
 VI. 12. What then did wretched I so love in 
 thee, thou theft of mine, thou deed of darkness, in 
 that sixteenth year of my age ? Lovely thou wcrt 
 not, because thou wort theft. But art thou any 
 thing, that thus I speak to thee? Fair were the 
 pears we stole, because they were Thy creation, 
 Thou fairest of all, Creator of all, Thou good God ; 
 God, the sovereign good and my true good. Fail- 
 were those pears, but not them did my wretched 
 soul desire; for I had store of better, and I gath 
 
 1 Sallustii Catilina, Id ED.
 
 imitates pervertedly some excellence of God. 37 
 
 ercd those only that I might steal. For, when gath- 
 ered, 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 loveli- 
 ness as in justice 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 birth that which decayeth ; nay 
 nor even that false and shadowy beauty, which be- 
 longeth to deceiving vices. 
 
 -13. For so doth pride imitate exaltedness ; whereas 
 Thou alone art God exalted over all. Ambition, 
 what seeks it, but honors and glory ? whereas Thou 
 alone art to be honored 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 wrested or withdrawn ? 
 when, or where, or whither, or by whom ? The ten- 
 derness 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 knowledge ; whereas Thou 
 supremely knowest all. Yea, ignorance and foolish- 
 ness itseif is cloaked under the name of simplicity 
 and harrnlessness ; yet nothing is found more single 
 than Thee: and what less injurious, since they are
 
 38 Men seek the creature instead of the Creator. 
 
 his own works, which injure the sinner ? Yes, sloth 
 would fain be at rest; but what stable rest be- 
 sides the Lord ? Luxury affects to be called plenty 
 and abundance ; but Thou art the fulness and nev- 
 er-failing plenteousness of incorruptible pleasures. 
 Prodigality presents a show of liberality : but Thou 
 art the most overflowing Giver of all good. Cov- 
 etousness would possess many things ; and Thou 
 possessest all things. Envy wrangles for precedence; 
 but what can contend with Thee? Anger seeks 
 revenge ; and who revenges justly but Thou ? Fear 
 startles at things unwonted or sudden, which endan- 
 ger things beloved, and takes forethought for their 
 safety ; but to Thee what is unwonted or sudden, or 
 who can separate from Thee what Thou lovest? 1 Or 
 where but with Thee is safety ? Grief pines away 
 for the lost delight of its desires ; and wishes that it 
 might not be deprived of any thing, more than Thou 
 canst be. 
 
 14. Thus doth the soul commit fornication, when 
 she turns from Thee, seeking otherwhere than in 
 Thee, what she findeth not pure and untainted till 
 she returns to Thee. Thus perversely all imitate 
 Thee, who remove far from Thee, and lift themselves 
 up against Thee. But even by thus imitating Thee, 
 they imply Thee to be the Creator of all nature ; 
 and that there is no place whither they can retire 
 from Thee. What then did I love in that theft? 
 and wherein did I even corruptly and perversely 
 imitate iny Lord ? Did I wish, by a kind of sleight,
 
 Through God alone are men kept from, sin. 39 
 
 to do contrary to Thy law, because I could not by 
 strong hand ; that whilst I was no better than a 
 bond slave, I might counterfeit a false liberty, by 
 doing without punishment what I could not do with- 
 out sin, in a darkened likeness of Thy Omnipotency ? 
 VII. 15. Behold this slave, fleeing from his Lord, 
 and laying hold of a shadow. 1 O rottenness! O 
 monstrousness of life, and depth of death ! did I like 
 what I ought not, only because I ought not ? What 
 shall I render unto the Lord? that, whilst my mem- 
 ory ^recalls these things, my soul is not affrighted 
 at them? Make me to love Thee, Lord, and 
 thank Thee, and confess unto Thy name; because 
 Thou hast forgiven me these great and heinous 
 deeds of mine, and hast melted away my sins as 
 they were ice. To Thy grace I ascribe also what- 
 soever sins I have not committed ; for what might I 
 not have done, who even loved a sin for its own 
 sake ? Yea, I confess all to have been forgiven me ; 
 both what evils I committed by my own wilfulness, 
 and what by Thy help I committed not. What man 
 is he, who, weighing his own infirmity, dares to as- 
 cribe his chastity and innocency to his own strength ; 
 that so he should love Thee the less, as if he less 
 needed Thy mercy, whereby Thou remittest sins to 
 those that turn to Thee ? For whosoever, called by 
 Thee, followed Thy voice, and avoided those things 
 which he finds me recalling and confessing of my- 
 self, let him not laugh at me, who, being sick, 
 was cured by that Physician, through whose' aid it 
 
 i Jonah i. 4. 2 Ps. cxvi. 12.
 
 40 
 
 was that lie is not sick at all, or rather is less sick ; 
 but let him love Thee as much as I do, yea, and 
 more; since he sees me to have been recovered from 
 such deep consumption of sin, by Him who pre- 
 served him from the like consumption of sin. 
 
 VIII. 1 6. And what fruit had I even from those 
 things, of the remembrance whereof I am now 
 ashamed? l Especially from that theft which I loved' 
 for the theft's sake; it was nothing, and therefore 
 the more miserable was I, who loved it. Alone, I 
 had not done it : such as I was then, I remember, 
 alone I had never done it. I loved it in the com- 
 pany of the accomplices, with whom I did it. Did 
 I then love something else besides the theft? Nay I 
 did love nothing else ; for that circumstance of the 
 company was also nothing. Who can teach me the 
 truth, save He that enlighteneth my heart, and dis- 
 covereth its dark corners? What is this which I 
 take in hand to inquire, and discuss, and consider ? 
 For had I 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 secure my 
 pleasure ; nor needed I have inflamed the itching of 
 my desires, by the excitement of accomplices. But 
 since my pleasure was not in those pears, it was in 
 the offence itself, to which the company of fellow- 
 sinners did concur. 
 
 IX. 1 7. What, then, was this feeling ? Of a truth 
 it was foul : and woe was me, who had it ; but yet 
 what was it ? Who can understand his errors ? 2 It 
 
 l Rom vi. 21. 2 Ps. xix. 12.
 
 to bear ill society. 41 
 
 was the sport, which, as it were, tickled our hearts, 
 in that we deceived those who little thought what 
 we were doing, and would have disliked it. Why 
 then was my delight of such sort, that I did it not 
 alone ? 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 anything very ludicrous presents itself to 
 their senses or mind. But I had not done this 
 alone ; alone, I had never, never done it. Behold, 
 my God, before Thee, the vivid remembrance of my 
 soul ; alone, I had never committed that theft ; for 
 what I stole pleased me not. O friendship, thou art 
 too unfriendly ! thou incomprehensible seducer of 
 the soul ; out of mirth and wantonness grow desire 
 to do others hurt, without lust of our own gain or 
 revenge : but when it is said, " Let 's go, let 's do it," 
 we are ashamed not to be shameless. 
 
 X. 18. Who can disentangle that twisted and in- 
 tricate knottiness of my soul ? Foul is it : I hate to 
 think on it, to look on it. But Thee I long for, O 
 Righteousness and Innocency, beautiful and comely 
 to all pure eyes, and of a satisfaction unsating. 
 With Thee is rest entire, and life imperturbable. He 
 that enters into Thee, enters into the joy of his 
 Lord;* and shall not fear, and shall do excellently in 
 the All-Excellent. I sank away from Thee, and I 
 wandered, O my God, too much astray from Thee 
 my stay, in these days of my youth, and I became to 
 myself a barren land. 
 
 1 Matt. xxv. 21.
 
 THE THIRD BOOK. 
 
 HIS RESIDENCE AT CARTHAGE PROM HIS SEVENTEENTH TO HIS NINE- 
 TEENTH YEAR SOURCE OF HIS DISORDERS LOVE Of SHOWS 
 ADVANCE IN STUDIES, AND LOVE OP WISDOM DISTASTE FOR SCRIP- 
 TURE LED ASTRA if TO THE MANICH^BANS REPUTATION OP 8OMB 
 OP THEIR TENETS GRIEF OP HIS MOTHER MONICA AT HIS HERESY, 
 AND PRAYERS FOR HIS CONVERSION HER VISION PROM 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 truly, as yet, yet I loved to love, and out 
 of a deep-seated craving, I hated myself for not crav- 
 ing. I sought what I might love, in love with 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 hun- 
 gered ; but was without all longing for incorruptible 
 sustenance, not because 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 ob- 
 tained to enjoy the person I loved. I defiled, there- 
 fore, the clear spring of friendship with the filth of 
 concupiscence, and I beclouded its brightness with the
 
 True and false sympathy. 43 
 
 hell of lustfulness; and thus foul and unseemly,! would 
 fain, through exceeding vanity, be fine and courtly. 
 I fell headlong then into the love wherein I longed 
 to be ensnared. My God, my Mercy, with how much 
 gall didst Thou out of Thy great goodness besprinkle 
 for me that sweetness? 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 with the iron burning-rods 
 of jealousy, and suspicions, and fears, and angers, and 
 quarrels. 
 
 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 as a spectator to 
 feel sorrow at them, and this very sorrow is his plea- 
 sure. 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. When a man suf- 
 fers in his own person, it is styled misery; when 
 he compassionates others, then it is mercy. But 
 what sort of compassion is this for feigned and 
 sccnical passions ? for the auditor is not called on to 
 relieve, but only to grieve : and he applauds the ac- 
 tor 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 spec- 
 tator is not moved to tears, he goes away disgusted 
 and criticising; but if he be moved to passion, he 
 stays intent, and weeps for joy.
 
 44 True and false sympathy. 
 
 3. Are griefs then too loved? Verily all desire 
 joy. Or since no man likes to be miserable, is he 
 yet pleased to be merciful ? which because it cannot 
 be without sorrow, for this reason alone is sorrow 
 loved ? This also springs from the vein of friend- 
 ship. But whither goes that vein ? whither flows it ? 
 wherefore runs it into that torrent of pitch bubbling 
 forth those monstrous tides of foul lustfulness, into 
 which it is wilfully changed and transformed, being 
 of its own will precipitated and corrupted from its 
 heavenly clearness ? Shall compassion then be put 
 away ? by no means. Let griefs then sometimes be 
 loved. But beware of uncleanness, O my soul, un- 
 der the guardianship of my God, the God of our 
 fathers, who is to be praised and exalted above all 
 for ever, 1 beware of uncleanness. For I do not take 
 myself to be without pity ; but then in the theatres I 
 rejoiced with lovers, when they wickedly enjoyed one 
 another, although this was imaginary only in the 
 play. And when they lost one another, as if very 
 compassionate, I sorrowed with them, yet had my 
 delight in both. But now I much more pity him 
 that rejoiceth in his wickedness, than him who is 
 thought to suffer hardship, by missing some perni- 
 cious pleasure, and the loss of some miserable felicity. 
 This certainly is the truer mercy, but in it, grief de- 
 lights not. For though he that grieves for the mis- 
 erable, be commended for his office of charity ; yet 
 had he, who is genuinely compassionate, rather there 
 were nothing to grieve for. For if good will be ill- 
 
 1 Song of the Three Children, ver. 3.
 
 Injury of false sympathy. 45 
 
 willed (which can never be), then may he, who truly 
 and sincerely commiserates, wish there might be 
 some miserable, that he might commiserate. Some 
 sorrow may then be allowed, none loved. For thus 
 dost Thou, O Lord God, who lovest souls far more 
 purely than we, and hast a more incorruptible pity, 
 yet art wounded with no sorrowfulness. And who is 
 sufficient for these things f l 
 
 4. But I, miserable, then loved to grieve, and 
 sought out what to grieve at; and that acting best 
 pleased me, and attracted me the mo,st vehemently, 
 which drew tears from me. What marvel was it that 
 a forlorn sheep, straying from Thy flock, and impa- 
 tient 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 ; from 
 which, as from 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 
 from afar. Upon how grievous iniquities consumed I 
 myself, following a sacrilegious curiosity, that having 
 forsaken Thee, it might bring me to the treacherous 
 abyss, and the beguiling service of devils, to whom I 
 offered my evil actions as a sacrifice. And in all these 
 things Thou didst scourge me ! I dared even, while 
 Thy solemnities were celebrated within the walls 
 of Thy church, to lust, and to compass a business 
 
 1 2 Cor. ii. 16. 
 6
 
 46 Augustine's literary ambition. 
 
 having death for its fruits, for which Thou scourgedst 
 me with grievous punishments, though nothing to my 
 eternal undoing, O Thou my exceeding mercy, my 
 God, my refuge from those terrible destroyers, among 
 whom I wandered with a stiff neck, withdrawing 
 further from Thee, loving mine own ways, and not 
 Thine ; loving a vagrant liberty. 
 
 6. Those studies, also, which were accounted com- 
 mendable, had a view to excelling in the- courts of 
 litigation; the more be-praised, the craftier. Such 
 is men's blindness, glorying even in their blindness ! 
 And now I was chief in the rhetoric school, whereat 
 I rejoiced proudly, and I swelled with arrogancy ; 
 although (Lord, Thou knowest) far quieter and alto- 
 gether removed from the subvertings of those "sub- 
 verters" 1 (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 ; 
 t. e., their "subvertings," 2 wherewith they wantonly 
 persecuted the modesty of strangers, whom they dis- 
 turbed by a gratuitous, jeering, feeding their mali- 
 cious mirth. Nothing can be liker the very actions 
 of devils than these. What then could they be more 
 truly called than " subverters " ? themselves sub- 
 verted and perverted first, the deceiving spirits se- 
 
 1 Evcrsores; who are described in Augustine's Liber De ?rra religione 
 (75), as " homines qui gaudent miseriis alienis, et risus eibi ac ludicra 
 Fpectacula exhibent, vel exhiberi voluut eversioiiibus et erroribus ali- 
 orum." ED. 
 
 2 Evereiones.
 
 Philosophy commenced his conversion. 47 
 
 cretly deriding and seducing them, by that wherein 
 they themselves delighted 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 philoso- 
 phy, and is called " Hortensius" But this book 
 altered my feelings, and turned my prayers to Thy- 
 self, 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 de- 
 sire 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 with my mother's allowances, in that my 
 nineteenth year, my father being dead two years be- 
 fore), 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 burn then, my God, how did I burn 
 to remount 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 that book inflamed me. 
 Some there be that seduce through philosophy, un- 
 der a great, and smooth, and honorable name color- 
 ing and disguising their own errors : and almost all
 
 48 Augustine's love of the name of CJirist, 
 
 who in that and former ages were such, are in that 
 book censured and set forth. There also is made plain 
 that wholesome advice of Thy Spirit, by Thy good 
 and devout servant : JJeioare lest any man spoil you 
 through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradi- 
 tion of men, after the rudiments of the icorld, and 
 not after Christ. For in Him dweUeth all the ful- 
 ness of the Godhead bodily. 1 And since at that time 
 (Thou, O Light of my heart, knowest) Apostolic 
 Scripture was not known to me, I was delighted 
 with that exhortation, so far only, that I was thereby 
 strongly roused, and kindled, 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, accord- 
 ing to Thy mercy, O Lord, this name of my Saviour 
 Thy Son, had my tender heart, even with my mo- 
 ther's milk, devoutly drunk in, and deeply treasured ; 
 and whatsoever was without that name, though never 
 so learned, polished, or true, took not entire hold of 
 me. 
 
 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 Scriptures; but they 
 
 1 Col. ii. 8, 9.
 
 but distaste for Scripture. 49 
 
 seemed to me unworthy to bo compared to the state- 
 liness of Tully : for my swelling pride shrunk from 
 their lowliness, 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, swollen with pride, took myself to be a great 
 one. 
 
 VI. 10. Therefore I fell among men proudly do- 
 ting, exceeding carnal and prating, in whose mouths 
 were the snares of the 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 were frequent in their 
 mouth, so far forth as the sound and the noise of the 
 tongue. went, but their heart was void of truth. Yet 
 they cried out " Truth, Truth," and spake much 
 thereof to me, though it was not in them: 1 and they 
 spjike falsehood, not of Thee only (who truly art 
 Truth), but even of those elements of this world, Thy 
 creatures. And -I indeed ought to have 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 in- 
 wardly did even then the marrow of my soul pant after 
 Thee, when they often and diversely, and in many 
 and huge books, echoed of Thee to me, though it 
 was but an echo. And these were the dishes where- 
 in to me, hungering after Thee, they, instead of Thee, 
 served up the Sun and Moon, beautiful works of 
 Thine, but yet Thy works, not Thyself, no, nor Thy 
 
 i John ii. 4
 
 50 His love of truth while he fell into error. 
 
 first works. For Thy spiritual works are before these 
 corporeal works, celestial though they be, and shin- 
 ing. But now I hungered and thii-sted not even after 
 those first works of Thine, but after Thee Thyself, 
 the Truth in whom is no variableness, neither shadow 
 of turning: 1 yet still they set before me in those 
 dishes glittering 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 
 our mind. Yet because I thought them to be Thee, 
 I fed thereon ; not eagerly, for Thou didst not in 
 them taste to me as Thou art ; for Thou wast not in 
 these fictions, nor was I nourished by them, but ex- 
 hausted rather. Food in sleep shows very like our 
 food awake ; yet are not those asleep nourished by 
 it, because they are asleep. But those fictions were 
 not in any way like to Thee, as Thou hast since 
 revealed Thyself to me; for those were corporeal 
 fantasies, false bodies, than which these true bodies, 
 celestial or terrestrial, which with our 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 imagine them. And 
 again, w r e do with more certainty imagine them, than 
 by them conjecture 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, 
 towards whom I languish, that I may gather strength, 
 art neither those bodies which we see, though in 
 heaven ; nor those which we do not see there ; for 
 
 l James i. 17.
 
 Erroneous belief in God nourishes not. . 51 
 
 Thou hast created them, nor dost Thou account them 
 among the chiefest of Thy works. How far then art 
 Thou from those fantasies of mine, fantasies of bodies 
 which are not at all ; than which the images of those 
 bodies, which are, are far more certain ; and more 
 certain still the bodies themselves, which yet Thou 
 art not ; no, nor yet the soul, which is the life of the 
 bodies. 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 
 Thou changest not, O life of my soul. 
 
 11. Where then wert Thou then to me, and how 
 far from me ? Far, verily, was I straying from Thee, 
 barred 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, 1 vari- 
 ously disguised, answering to five dens of darkness, 
 which have no being, yet slay the believer. For 
 verses and poems I can turn to true food, and though 
 I did sing " Medea flying," yet I maintained it not as 
 true ;. though I heard it sung, I believed it not : but 
 those things I did believe. Woe, woe, by what steps 
 was I brought down to the depths of hell / 2 toiling and 
 turmoiling through want of Truth! For I sought 
 after Thee, my God (to Thee I confess it, who hadst 
 mercy on me, before I confessed), not according to 
 the understanding of the mind, wherein Thou will- 
 edst that I should excel the beasts, but according to 
 
 1 The allusion is to the Manichaean " elements." ED. 2 Prov. ix. 18.
 
 52 Erroneous belief in God nourishes not. 
 
 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 that bold woman, simple 
 and knoweth nothing, shadowed out in Solomon, sit- 
 ting at the door, and saying, Eat ye bread of secre- 
 cies willingly, and drink ye stolen waters ichich are 
 sweet: 1 she seduced me, because she found my soul 
 dwelling abroad in the eye of my flesh, and ruminat- 
 ing 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 evil ? " " Is God bounded 
 by a bodily shape, and has hairs and nails ? " " Are 
 they to be esteemed righteous, who had many 
 wives at once, and did kill men, and sacrificed living 
 creatures?" 2 At which I, in my ignorance, was 
 much troubled, and departing from the truth, seemed 
 to myself to be making towards it ; because as yet I 
 knew not that evil was nothing but a privation of 
 good, until at last a thing ceases altogether to be ; 
 which how should I see, the sight of whose eyes 
 reached only to bodies, and of my mind to a phan- 
 tasm ? And I knew not God to be 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 is in us, by 
 
 i Prov. ix. 1317. 2 1 Kings xviii. 40. 3 John iv. 24.
 
 God sought wrongly is not found. 53 
 
 which we are like to God, and in Scripture are 
 rightly said to be after the image of God, 1 I was 
 altogether ignorant. 
 
 13. Nor knew I that true inward righteousness, 
 which judgeth not according to custom, but out of 
 the most rightful law of God Almighty, whereby the 
 ways of places and times were disposed, according 
 to those times and places ; itself meantime being the 
 same always and everywhere, 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, judgin g out of man's judgment? and meas- 
 uring by their own petty habits the moral habits of 
 the whole human race. As if in an armory, 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 
 afternoon, one were angered at not being allowed to 
 keep open shop, because he had been in the fore- 
 noon ; or when in one house he observeth some ser- 
 vant take a thing in his hand, which the butler is not 
 suffered to meddle with ; or something permitted out 
 of doors, which is forbidden in the dining-room ; and 
 should be angry, that in one house, and one family, 
 the same thing is not allotted everywhere, and to all. 
 Even such are they, who are fretted to hear some- 
 thing to have been lawful for righteous men for- 
 
 i Gen. i. 27. 2 1 Cor. iv. 3.
 
 54 God's law the same / in application, varies. 
 
 merly, which now is not; or that God, for certain 
 temporal respects, commanded some one thing, and 
 some another, while both obeyed 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 
 time not so ; in one comer permitted or commanded, 
 but in another rightly forbidden and punished. Is 
 justice therefore various or mutable ? No, but the 
 times, over which it presides, flow not evenly, be- 
 cause they are times. Men, whose days are few 
 upon the earth? by their senses cannot harmonize 
 the causes of things in former ages and other nations, 
 which they have had no experience of, with those 
 which they have experience of; whereas in one 
 and the same body, day, or family, they easily see 
 what is fitting for each member, and season, part, 
 and person ; to the one they take exceptions, to the 
 other they submit. 
 
 14. These things I then knew not, nor observed; 
 they struck my sight on all sides, but I saw them 
 not. I indited verses, in which I might not place 
 every foot everywhere, but differently in different 
 metres ; nor even in any one metre the self-same 
 foot in all places. Yet the art itself, by which I 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 
 
 i Job xiv. 1.
 
 Actions of Patriarchs prophetic. 55 
 
 part varied ; although in varying times it prescribed 
 not everything at once, but apportioned and enjoined 
 what was fit for each. And I, in my blindness, cen- 
 sured the holy Fathers, not only wherein they made 
 use of things present as God commanded and in- 
 spired them, but also wherein they were fortelling 
 things to come, as God was revealing in them. 
 
 VIII. 15. Can it at any time or place be unjust to 
 love God with all his heart, with all his soul, and 
 with all his mind ; and his neighbor as himself? 1 
 Therefore are those foul offences which are against 
 nature, to be everywhere and at all times detested 
 and punished ; such as those of the men of Sodom : 
 which, should all nations commit, they would all 
 stand guilty of the same crime, by the law of God, 
 who hath not made men that they should so abuse 
 one another. For even that intercourse which 
 should be between God and us is violated, when that 
 same nature, of which lie is Author, is polluted by 
 perversity of lust. But those actions which are 
 offences against the customs of men, are to be 
 avoided according to the customs severally prevail- 
 ing ; so that a thing agreed upon, and confirmed, by 
 custom or law of any city or nation, may not be vio- 
 lated at the lawless pleasure of any, whether native 
 or foreigner. For any part which harmonizeth not 
 with its whole, is offensive. But when God com- 
 mands a thing to be done, against the customs or 
 compact of any people, though it were never done 
 by them heretofore, it is to be done ; and if inter- 
 
 l Matt. xxii. 37-39.
 
 56 God to be obeyed in, or against human laics. 
 
 mitted, it is to be restored ; and if never ordained, 
 is now to be ordained. For if it be lawful for a king, 
 in the state which he reigns over, to command what 
 no one before him, nor he himself heretofore, had 
 commanded ; and if to obey him cannot be against 
 the common weal of the state (nay, it were against 
 it if he were not obeyed, for to obey princes is a 
 general compact of human society) ; how much more 
 unhesitatingly ought we to obey God, in all which 
 He commands, the Ruler of all His creatures ! For, 
 as among the powers in man's society, the greater 
 authority is obeyed in preference to the lesser, so 
 must God above all. 
 
 16. So in acts of violence, where there is a wish to 
 hurt, whether by reproach or injury; and this either 
 for revenge, as one enemy against another; or for 
 some profit belonging 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 anything, to 
 him whose being on a par with himself he fears, or 
 grieves at; or for the mere pleasure at another's 
 pain, as spectators of gladiators, or deriders and 
 mockers of others : all these are the varied forms of 
 iniquity, which spring from the lust of the flesh, of 
 the eye, 1 or of rule, either singly, or two combined, 
 or all together. And so do men live ill against 
 the three and seven, that psaltery of ten strings? 
 Thy Ten Commandments, O God, most high, and 
 most sweet. But what foul offences can there be 
 
 1 1 John ii. 16. 8 Ts. cxliv. 9.
 
 Self -will and self-love source of all sin. 57 
 
 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 them- 
 selves, since when they sin against Thee, they do 
 wickedly against their own souls, and iniquity gives 
 itself the lief by corrupting and perverting the nature 
 which Thou hast created and ordained ; either by an 
 immoderate use of things allowed ; or in burning 
 in things unallowed, to that use which is against 
 nature;* or in guiltily raging with heart and tongue 
 against Thee, kicking against the pricks / 3 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 cause of offence. 
 And these things are done when Thou art forsaken, 
 O Fountain of Life, who art the only and true Crea- 
 tor and Governor of the Universe, and by a self- 
 willed pride any one false thing is selected therefrom 
 and loved. So then by a humble devoutness we re- 
 turn to Thee ; and Thou cleansest us from our evil 
 habits, and art merciful to those who confess their 
 sins, and hearest the groaning of the prisoner* and 
 loosest us from the chains which we made for our- 
 selves, if we lift not up against Thee the horns of an 
 unreal liberty, suffering the loss of all through covet- 
 ousness of more, by loving more our own private 
 good, than Thee, the Good of all. 
 
 IX. 17. Amidst these offences of foulness and vio- 
 lence, and these many iniquities, are the sins of those 
 men, who are, on the whole, making proficiency; 
 
 l YB. xxvi. 12. Vulg. 2 Bom. i. 27. 3 Acts ix. 6. < Ps. cii. 20.
 
 58 Self-will and self-love, source of att sin. 
 
 which, by those that judge rightly according to the 
 rule of perfection, are condemned, yet the persona 
 themselves are commended, upon hope of future 
 fruit, as in the green blade of growing corn. And 
 there are some actions resembling offences of foul- 
 ness or violence, which yet are no sins ; because they 
 offend neither Thee, our Lord God, nor human so- 
 ciety ; as when things fitting for a given period are 
 obtained for the service of the whole life, and we 
 know not whether out of a lust of having ; or when 
 things are, for the sake of correction, by constituted 
 authority punished, and we know not whether out 
 of a lust of hurting. Many an action, also, Avhich in 
 men's sight is disapproved, is by Thy testimony 
 approved ; and many, by men praised, are (Thou 
 being witness), condemned : because the appearance 
 of the action, and the mind of the doer, and the un- 
 known exigency of the time, severally vary. But 
 when Thou on a sudden commandest an unwonted 
 and unthought-of thing, yea, although Thou hast 
 heretofore 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 that society of men is just 
 which serves Thee ? But blessed are they who know 
 that Thou hast given commands ! For all things are 
 done by Thy servants, either to show forth what is 
 needful for the present, or to foreshow things to 
 come. 
 
 X. 18. Being ignorant of these things, I scoffed at 
 those Thy holy servants and prophets. And what
 
 Who Rjieak against truth fall into gross error, 59 
 
 gained I by scoffing at them, but to be scoffed at by 
 Thee, being insensibly and step by step drawn on to 
 such follies, as to believe that a fig wept when 
 it was plucked, and the tree, its mother, shed milky 
 tears ? Which fig, notwithstanding (plucked by some 
 other's, not his own, guilt), had some (Hanichaean) 
 saint eaten, and mingled with his bowels, he should 
 breathe out of it angels ; yea, there should burst forth 
 particles of divinity, at every moan or groan in his 
 prayer ; which particles of the most high and true 
 God had remained bound in that fig, unless they had 
 been set at liberty by the teeth or belly of some 
 u Elect " saint ! And I, miserable, believed that 
 more mercy was to be shown to the fruits of the 
 earth, than to men, for whom they were created. 
 For if any one an hungered} not a Manichsean, should 
 ask for any, that morsel would seem as it were con- 
 demned to capital punishment, which should be given 
 him. 1 
 
 XI. 19. And Thou sentest Thine hand from above? 
 and drewest my soul out of that profound darkness ; 
 my mother, thy faithful one, weeping to Thee for 
 me, more than mothers weep the bodily deaths of 
 their children. For she, by that faith and spirit 
 which she had from Thee, discerned the death 
 wherein I lay, and Thou heardest her, O Lord ; 
 Thou heardest her, and 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 
 
 l See Guericke's Church Uistorj-, } 54, p. 190. ED. 2 Fs. cxliv. 7.
 
 CO AugustinJs conversion foretold to 
 
 dream whereby Thou comfortedest her, so that she 
 allowed me to live with her, and to eat at the same 
 table in the house, which she had begun to shrink 
 from, abhorring and detesting the blasphemies of my 
 error? For she saw herself standing on a certain 
 wooden rule, and a shining youth coming towards 
 her, cheerful, and smiling upon her who was sad, and 
 overwhelmed with grief. But he having (in order 
 to instruct, as is their wont, and not to be in- 
 structed) inquired 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 on the same rule. Whence was 
 this, but that Thine ears were towards her heart? 
 O Thou Good omnipotent, who so carest for every 
 one of us, as if Thou caredst for him only ; and so 
 for all, as if all were but one ! 
 
 20. Whence was this, also, that when she had told 
 ine this vision, and I would fain bend it to mean, 
 " That she rather should not despair of being one 
 day what I was ; " she presently, without any hesita- 
 tion, 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 often spoken 
 of this), that Thy answer through my waking mo- 
 ther in that she was not perplexed by the plausi- 
 bility of my false interpretation, and so quickly saw 
 what was to be seen, and which I certainly had not
 
 his mother in a dream. 61 
 
 perceived before she spake even then moved me 
 more than the dream itself, whereby the joy to that 
 holy woman, to be fulfilled so long after, was foretold 
 for the consolation of her present anguish. For 
 almost nine years passed, in which I wallowed in the 
 mire of that deep pit, and the darkness of falsehood, 
 often essaying to rise, but dashed down the more 
 grievously. 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 hours of 
 her devotions to bewail my case unto Thee. And 
 her prayers entered into Thy presence ; l and yet 
 Thou sufferedst me to be involved and re-involved 
 in that darkness. 
 
 XII. 21. Thou gavest her meantime another an- 
 ^swer, which I call to mind; for I pass bymuch, to 
 confess those things which are most important, and 
 much I do not 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 she had entreated him 
 to converse with me, refute my errors, 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 perceived. 
 For he answered, that I was yet unteachable, being 
 puffed up with the novelty of that heresy, and had 
 already perplexed divers unskilful persons with cap- 
 tious questions, as she had told him : " But let him 
 
 l Ps. Ixxxviii. 1. 
 7
 
 62 Unceasing prayers and tears never fail. 
 
 alone awhile," 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 same time, he 
 told her how himself, when a little one, had by his 
 seduced mother been consigned over to the Ma- 
 nichees, 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. 
 And when she would not be satisfied, but urged him 
 more, with entreaties and many tears, that he would 
 see me, and discourse with me, a little displeased at 
 her importunity, he said, " 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 sounded from heaven.
 
 THE FOURTH BOOK. 
 
 AUGUSTINE'S LIFE FROM NINETEEN TO EIGHT-AND-TWENTT HIMSELF 
 A MANICH^BAN, AND SEDUCING OTHERS TO THB SAME BEHEST 
 PARTIAL OBEDIENCE AMIDST VANITY AND SIN CONSULTING AS- 
 TROLOGKU8, ONLY PARTIALLY SHAKEN HEREIN LOSS OF AN EARLY 
 FRIEND, WHO IS CONVERTED BY BEING BAPTIZED IN A SWOON RE- 
 1-LECTIONS ON GRIEF, ON REAL AND UflREAL FRIENDSHIP, AND 
 
 LOVE OF FAME WHITES ON THE "FAIR AND FIT," YET CANNOT 
 RIGHTLY, THOUGH GOD HAD GIVEN HIM OUEAT 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 
 nineteenth year to my eighth-and-twentieth ) I lived 
 seduced and seducing, deceived and deceiving, in 
 divers lusts ; openly, by sciences which they call lib- 
 eral ; secretly, with a false-named religion ; here 
 proud, there superstitious, everywhere vain. Here 
 hunting 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 with my friends, deceived by me, and with 
 me. Let the arrogant mock me, and such as have
 
 64 Sin restrained, but without fixed principles. 
 
 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 fore-, 
 passed time, and to offer unto Thee the sacrifice of 
 thanksgiving* For without Thee, what am I to my- 
 self, but a guide to mine own downfall ? or what am 
 I even at the best, but an infant sucking the milk 
 Thou givest, and feeding upon Thee, the food that 
 perisheth not ?* But what sort of a man is any man, 
 seeing he is but a man ? Let now the strong and the 
 mighty laugh at me, but let me, the poor and needy* 
 confess unto Thee. 
 
 II. 2. In those years I taught rhetoric, and, over- 
 come by cupidity, made sale of a loquacity to over- 
 come by. Yet I preferred (Lord, Thou knowest) 
 honest scholars (as they are accounted), and without 
 artifice I taught them artifices, not to be practised 
 against the life of the guiltless, though sometimes 
 for the life of the guilty. And Thou, O God, from 
 afar perceivedst me stumbling in that slippery course, 
 and amid much smoke sending out some sparks of 
 faithfulness, which I showed in my guidance of such 
 as loved vanity, and sought after leasing,* myself 
 their companion. In those years I had one compan- 
 ion, not in that which is called lawful marriage, but 
 whom I had found out in a wayward passion void of 
 understanding ; yet but one, remaining faithful even 
 
 1 Ps. xlix. 14. 3 Ps. Ixxiii. 21. 
 
 2 John vi. 27. * Is. xlii. 5; Matt. xii. 20; Ps. iv. 2.
 
 JVo real love of God without sound faith. 65 
 
 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 born 
 against their parents' will, although once born they 
 may constrain love. 
 
 3. I remember, also, that when I had settled to 
 enter the lists for a theatrical prize, some wizard 
 asked me what I would give him to win : but I, de- 
 testing and abhorring such foul mysteries, answered, 
 " Though the garland were of imperishable gold, I 
 would not suffer a fly to be killed to gain me it." 
 For he was to kill some living creatures in his sacri- 
 fices, and by that means to induce the devils to favor 
 me. But this ill also I rejected, not out of pure love 
 to Thee, O God of my heart ; for I knew not how to 
 love Thee, not knowing how to conceive aught be- 
 yond a material brightness. And doth not a soul, 
 sighing after such fictions, commit fornication against 
 Thee, trust in things unreal, and feed the wind? 1 
 Still I would not, forsooth, have sacrifices offered to 
 devils for me, to whom I was sacrificing myself by 
 that superstition. For what else is it to feed the 
 wind, but to feed devils ; that is, by going astray, to 
 become their pleasure and derision ? 
 
 III. 4. Those impostors, then, whom they style 
 Mathematicians, 2 I consxilted without scruple ; be- 
 cause they seemed to use no sacrifice, nor to pray to 
 any spirit for their divinations : which art, however, 
 
 1 Hos. xii.'l. 
 
 2 Astrologers; " pulsi'ltalia mathcmatici," Taciti Historia II. 62. ED.
 
 66 Vanity of Divination. 
 
 Christian and true piety consistently rejects and con- 
 demns. For, it is a good thing to confess unto Thee, 
 and to say, Have mercy upon me, heal my soul, for I 
 have sinned against Thee; 1 and not to abuse Thy 
 mercy for a license to sin, but to remember the 
 Lord's words, Behold, thou art made whole, sin no 
 more, lest a worse thing come unto thee? All which 
 wholesome advice they labor to destroy, saying, 
 "The cause of thy sin is inevitably determined in 
 heaven ;" and "This did Venus, or Saturn, or Mars :" 
 that man, forsooth, flesh and blood, and proud cor- 
 ruption, might be blameless ; while the Creator and 
 Ordainer of heaven and the stars is to bear the 
 blame." 3 And who is He but our God? the very 
 sweetness and well-spring of righteousness, who ren- 
 derest to every man according to his icorks : and a 
 broken and contrite heart wilt Thou not despise* 
 
 5. There was in those days a wise man, 5 very skil- 
 ful in physic, and renowned therein, who had with 
 his own proconsular hand put the Agonistic garland 
 upon my distempered head, but not as a physician : 
 for this disease Thou only curest, who resistest the 
 proud and givest grace to the humble. 6 Thou didst 
 speak to me even by that old man, to heal my soul. 
 For having become more acquainted with him, and 
 hanging assiduously and fixedly on his speech (for 
 
 1 Ps. xli. 4. 
 
 2 John v. 14. 
 
 3 Compare ' This is the excellent foppery," etc. ; King Lear, Act I. Sc. 
 2. ED. 
 
 4 Rom. ii. 6; Matt xvi. 27; Ps. li. 17. 
 
 6 Vindicianus; spoken of again iu Book VII. c. vi. ED. 
 61 Pet. v. 5; Jam. iv. 6.
 
 Proofs against divination difficult to him. 67 
 
 though in simple terms, it was vivid, lively, and 
 earnest), when he had gathered, by my discourse, 
 that I was given to the books of nativity-casters, he 
 kindly and fatherly advised me to cast them away, 
 and not fruitlessly bestow a care and diligence nec- 
 essary for useful things, upon these vanities ; saying, 
 that he had in his earliest years studied that art, so 
 as to make it the profession whereby he should live, 
 and that, understanding Hippocrates, he could soon 
 have understood such a study as this ; and yet he 
 had given it over, and taken to physic, for no other 
 reason but that he found it utterly false ; and he, as 
 an honest man, would not get his living by deluding 
 people. "But thou," saith he, "hast rhetoric to 
 maintain thyself by, so that thou followest this false 
 art of free choice, not from necessity of a support : 
 the more then oughtest thou to give me credit in 
 respect to it, who labored to acquire it so perfectly, 
 as to get my living by it alone." Of whom, when I 
 had demanded how then could many true things be 
 foretold by it, he answered me (as well as he could), 
 " That the force of chance, diffused throughout the 
 whole order of things, brought this about. For if, 
 when a man by hap-hazard opens the pages of some 
 poet, who sang and thought of something wholly 
 different, a verse oftentimes fell out wondrously 
 agreeable to the present business ; it were not to be 
 wondered at if, out of the soul of man, unconscious 
 what takes place in it, by some higher instinct an 
 answer should be given, by hap, not by art, corre- 
 sponding to the business and actions of the de- 
 mander."
 
 68 Augustine's friend. 
 
 6. And thus much, either from or through him, 
 Thou conveyedst to me, and tracedst in my memory 
 what I might hereafter examine for myself. But at 
 that time neither he, nor my dearest Nebridius, a 
 youth singularly good and of a holy fear, who de- 
 rided the whole system of divination, could persuade 
 ine to cast it aside, the authority of the authors 
 swaying me yet more, and as yet I had found no 
 certain proof (such as I sought) whereby it might 
 without all doubt appear, that what had been truly 
 foretold by those consulted was the result of hap- 
 hazard, not of the art of the star-gazers. 
 
 IV. 7. In those years when I first began to teach 
 rhetoric in my native town, I had found a friend in 
 one blooming with me in the same bud of youth, and 
 whom a community of studies made extremely dear 
 to me. He had grown up of a child with me, and to- 
 gether we went to school, and to play. But he was 
 not yet my friend as afterwards, nor even then, as 
 true friendship is : for none is true but that which 
 Thou cementest together between such as cleave 
 unto Thee, through that love which is shed abroad in 
 our hearts by t/ie Holy Ghost, which is given unto us. 1 
 Yet was it but too sweet, ripened by the warmth of 
 kindred studies : for, from the true faith (which he 
 as a youth had not soundly and thoroughly imbibed) 
 I had warped him also to those superstitious and 
 pernicious fables for which my mother bewailed me. 
 "With me he now erred in mind, nor could my soul 
 be without him. But behold Thou wert close on the 
 
 1 Rom. v. 5.
 
 Jests at fiis friend' 1 s baptism, and. is reproved. 69 
 
 steps of Thy fugitives, at once God of vengeance* 
 and Fountain of mercies, turning us to Thyself by 
 wonderful means; Thou tookest that man out of 
 this life, when he had scarce filled up one whole year 
 of my friendship, sweet to me above all sweetness 
 of my life. 
 
 8. Who can recount all Thy praises? which Thou 
 hast deserved in reference to this single person ? 
 What didst Thou then, my God, and how unsearch- 
 able is the abyss of Thy judgments? 3 For long, 
 sore sick of a fever, he lay senseless in a death- 
 sweat ; and his recovery being despaired of, he was 
 baptized, unconscious, myself meanwhile little re- 
 garding, and presuming that his soul would retain 
 rather what it had received of me, not what was 
 wrought on his unconscious body. But it proved 
 far otherwise : for he was refreshed, and restored. 
 Forthwith, as soon as I could speak with him (and I 
 could, so soon as he was able, for I never left him, 
 and we hung but too much upon each other), I 
 essayed to jest with him, as though he would jest 
 with me at the baptism which he had received when 
 utterly absent in mind and feeling, but had now 
 understood that he had received. But he shrunk 
 from me, as from an enemy; and with a wonderful 
 and sudden freedom bade me, as I would continue 
 his friend, forbear such language to him. I, all 
 astonished and amazed, suppressed all my emotions 
 till he should grow well, and his health were strong 
 enough for me to deal with him as I would. But he 
 
 1 Ps. xciv. 1. 2 Ps. cvi. 2. 3 p g . xxxvi. 2.
 
 70 God's mercy in the death of his f fiend. 
 
 was taken away from my frenzy, that with Thee 
 he might be preserved for my comfort ; a few days 
 after, in my absence, he was attacked again by the 
 fever, and so departed. 
 
 9. At this grief my heart was utterly darkened ; 
 and whatever I beheld was death. My native coun- 
 try was a torment to me, and my father's house a 
 strange unhappiness ; and whatever I had shared 
 with him, now that he was gone, became a distract- 
 ing torture. Mine eyes sought him everywhere, but 
 found him not ; and I hated all places because they 
 held him not ; nor could they now tell me, " He is 
 coming," as when he was alive and absent. I became 
 a great riddle to myself, and I asked my soul, why 
 she was so sac?, and why she disquieted me sorely : v 
 but she knew not what to answer me. And if I 
 said Trust in God, she very rightly obeyed me not ; 
 because that most dear friend, whom she had lost, 
 being a man, was both truer and better, than that 
 phantasm she was bid to trust in. Only tears were 
 sweet to me, for they succeeded my friend as the 
 solace of my mind. 
 
 V. 10. And now, Lord, these things are passed by, 
 and time hath assuaged my wound. May I learn 
 from Thee, who art Truth, and approach the ear of 
 my heart unto Thy mouth, that Thou mayest tell me 
 why weeping is sweet to the -miserable ? Hast 
 Thou, although present everywhere, cast away our 
 misery far from Thee? Thou abidest in Thyself, 
 but we are tossed about in divers trials. And yet 
 
 1 Ps. xlii. 6.
 
 He loathes life and dreads death. 71 
 
 unless we mourn in Thine ears, we should have no 
 hope left. How then is sweet fruit gathered from 
 the bitterness of life, from groaning, tears, sighs, and 
 complaints? Doth this sweeten it, that we hope 
 Thou hearest ? This is true of prayer, for therein is 
 a longing to approach unto Thee. But was it so in 
 my grief for my friend lost, and the sorrow where- 
 with I was then overwhelmed ? For I neither hoped 
 he should return to life, nor did I desire this with my 
 tears. I wept and grieved because I was miserable, 
 and had lost my joy. Or is weeping bitter when we 
 have the things which we enjoy, but grows pleasant 
 when we lose them ? 
 
 VI. 11. But why speak I of these things? for 
 now is no time to question, but to confess unto Thee. 
 Wretched I was ; and wretched is every soul bound 
 by friendship to perishable things ; he is torn asun- 
 der when he loses them, and feels the wretchedness 
 which he was liable to ere yet he lost them. So 
 was it then with me ; I wept most bitterly, and found 
 my repose in bitterness. Thus was I wretched, but 
 that wretched life I held even dearer than my friend. 
 For though I would willingly have changed it, yet 
 was I more unwilling to part with it, than with him ; 
 yea, I know not whether I would have parted with 
 it even for him, as is related (if not feigned) of Py- 
 lades and Orestes, that they would gladly have died 
 for each other or together, not to live together being 
 to them worse than death. But in me there had 
 prison some inexplicable feeling, wholly contrary to 
 this ; for at once I loathed exceedingly to live and
 
 72 Misery increased by distraction. 
 
 feared to die. I suppose, the more I loved him, the 
 more did I hate and fear (as a most cruel enemy) 
 death, which had bereaved rne of him : and I imag- 
 ined it would speedily make an end of all men, since 
 it had power over him. Thus was it with me, I re- 
 member. 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 affec- 
 tions, directing mine eyes towards Thee, and pluck- 
 ing my feet out of the 'snare* For I wondered that 
 others, subject to death, did live, since he, whom I 
 loved, as if he should 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 concerning his friend, "Thou half of my soul :" 
 for I felt that my soul and his soul were " one soul 
 in two bodies : " and therefore was my life a horror 
 to me, because I would not live halved. And there- 
 fore, perchance I feared to die, lest he whom I so 
 much loved should die wholly. 2 
 
 VII. 12. O madness, which knows not how to 
 love men as men ! O foolish man that I then was, 
 suffering so impatiently the lot of man ! I fretted, 
 sighed, wept, was distracted ; found 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 
 
 1 Ps. xxv. 14. 
 
 2 Augustine in his Retraetationes (Liber II.) remarks that what he has 
 said here, " quasi declamatio levis et gravis confessio videtur. quamvis 
 utcuucjue tcmperata sit haec iucptia iu eo quod additutn est, forte. ''^ 
 ED.
 
 Misery increased by distraction. 73 
 
 games and music, nor in fragrant spots, nor in curi- 
 ous bauquetings, 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 revolt- 
 ing and hateful, except groaning and tears ; for in 
 those alone found I a little refreshment. But when 
 my soul ceased from 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, since, when I thought 
 of Thee, Thou wert not to me any solid or substan- 
 tial 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 
 again on me ; and thus I was to myself a hapless 
 spot, where I could neither stay nor hence depart. 
 For whither could my heart flee from my heart? 
 Whither could I flee from myself? How not follow 
 myself? And yet I fled out of my native country; 
 for so should mine eyes less look about for my lost 
 friend, where they were not wont to see him. And 
 thus from Tageste, I came to Carthage. 
 
 VIII. 13. Times lose no time; nor do they roll 
 idly by ; through our senses they work strange oper- 
 ations on the mind. Behold, they went and came 
 day by day, and by coming and going introduced 
 into my mind other imaginations, and other remem- 
 brances ; and little by little patched me up again 
 with my old land of delights, unto which my sorrow
 
 74 The world cures grief by sources of fresh grief. 
 
 gave way. And yet there succeeded, not indeed 
 other griefs, but the causes of other griefs. For 
 whence had that former grief so easily reached my 
 very inmost soul, but that I had poured out my soul 
 upon the dust, in loving one that must die, as if he 
 would never die ? For what restored and refreshed 
 me chiefly, was the solaces of other friends, with 
 whom I had loved him instead of Thee ; and this 
 was a great fable, and protracted lie, by whose adul- 
 terous stimulus my soul, which lay itching in my 
 ears, was defiled. But that fable would not die 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 offices by turns; 
 to read together honied books ; to play the fool or 
 be earnest together; to dissent at times without 
 quarrelling, as a man might with his own self; and 
 even with the unfrequency of these dissentings, to 
 season our more frequent consentings ; sometimes to 
 teach, and sometimes learn ; to long for the absent 
 with impatience, and welcome the coming with joy: 
 these, and the like expressions, proceeding out of the 
 hearts of those that loved and were loved again, by 
 the countenance, the tongue, the eyes, and a thou- 
 sand pleasing gestures, were so much fuel to melt 
 our souls together, and out of many make but one. 
 
 IX. 14. This is what is loved in friends; and so 
 loved, that a man's conscience condemns itself, if he 
 love not the one that loves him, looking for nothing 
 
 o o 
 
 from him but demonstrations of his love. Hence 
 that mourning, if one die, that darkening of sorrows,
 
 75 
 
 that steeping of the heart in tears, all sweetness 
 turned to bitterness ; and upon the loss of the dying, 
 the death of the living. Blessed is the man that 
 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 lost. And 
 who is this but our God, the God that made heaven 
 and earth) and filleth them? because by filling them 
 He created them ? None loseth, but he who leaveth 
 Thee. And who leaveth Thee, whither goeth or 
 whither fleeth he, but from Thee pleased to Thee 
 displeased ? For doth he not find Thy law in his 
 own punishment? And Thy law is truth, 2 and 
 truth is Thyself. 
 
 X. 15. Turn ws, God of Hosts, show us Thy 
 countenance, and we shall be whole? For whitherso- 
 ever the soul of man turns itself, unless towards Thee, 
 it is fastened upon sorrows ; yea, even though it is 
 fastened on things beautiful, which are out of Thee, 
 and out of the soul, and yet were not all, 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 some perish without waxing old. 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 their nature. 
 Thus much hast Thou allotted them, because they 
 are portions of things which exist not all at once, but, 
 
 1 Gen. ii. 24 ; Jer. xxiii. 24. 3 Ts. Ixxx. 19. 
 
 2 Ps. cxix. 142 ; John xiv. 6.
 
 76 Rest only in the Creator. 
 
 by passing away and succeeding, together complete 
 that universe whereof they are portions; even as 
 our speech is completed by separate vocal signs ; but 
 not unless one word pass away when it hath sounded 
 its part, that another may succeed. Out of all these 
 things let my soul praise Thee, O God, Creator of 
 all; yet let not my soul be fastened unto these 
 things with the glue of love, through the senses of 
 the body. For they go whither they were meant to 
 go, that they might cease to be ; and they rend the 
 soul 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 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 by the flesh is it 
 bounded. It sufficeth for the end that it was made 
 for ; but it sufficeth not to stay things from running 
 their course from their appointed starting-place to 
 the end appointed. For in Thy Word, by which 
 they are created, they hear their decree, " hence and 
 hitherto." 
 
 XI. 16. Be not foolish, O my soul, nor become 
 deaf in the ear of thine heart with the tumult of thy 
 folly. Hearken thou, also. The Word Itself calleth 
 thee to return to that place of rest imperturbable, 
 where love is not forsaken, if itself forsaketh not to 
 love. Behold, some things pass away, that others 
 may replace them, and so this lower universe be 
 completed by all its parts. But do I ever depart ?
 
 God invites us by the changes around us. 77 
 
 saith the "Word of God. There -fix thy dwelling, 
 trust there whatsoever thou hast, O my soul, for now 
 thou art tired out with vanities. Entrust to Truth, 
 whatsoever thou hast from the- Truth, and thou shalt 
 lose nothing ; and thy decay shall bloom again, and 
 all thy diseases be healed, 1 and thy mortal parts be 
 reformed and renewed, and bound around thee : nor 
 shall they lay thee whither themselves descend ; but 
 they shall stand fast with thee, and abide forever 
 before God, who abideth and standeth fast forever. 2 
 
 17. "Why then be perverted and follow thy flesh ? 
 Let it be converted and follow thee. Whatever by 
 it thou hast sense of, is only a part ; but the whole, 
 whereof this is a part, thou knowest not ; and yet 
 the mere part delights thee. But had the sense of 
 thy flesh a capacity for comprehending the whole, 
 and not (for thy punishment) a part only, thou 
 wouldest wish that all the parts should pass away, 
 that so, the whole might ravish thee. For what we 
 speak also, by the same sense of the flesh thou hear- 
 est ; yet wouldest not thou have the syllables stay, 
 but fly away, that others may come, and thou hear 
 the whole. And so ever, when any one thing is 
 made up of many, all of which do not exist together, 
 collectively they would please more than they do 
 severally, could all be perceived collectively. But 
 better still than the collective whole is He who made 
 the whole ; He is our God ; He doth not pass away, 
 neither doth aught succeed Him. 
 
 XII. 18. If bodies please thee, praise God for 
 
 l Ps. ciii. 3. 21 ret i. 23.
 
 All things are to be loved in God. 
 
 them, and dart back thy love upon their Maker ; lest 
 in these things which please thee, thou displease 
 Him. If souls please thee, love them in God : for 
 separate they are mutable, but in Him they are 
 firmly stablished; else would they pass, and pass 
 away. In Him then be they beloved; and carry 
 unto Him along with thee what souls thou canst, 
 and say to them, " Him let us love, Him let us love : 
 He made all things, nor is He far off. For He did 
 not make them, and then depart, but they are of 
 Him, and in Him. See, there He is where truth is 
 loved. He is within the very heart, yet hath the 
 heart strayed from Him. Go back into your heart^ 
 ye transgressors, and cleave fast to Him that made 
 you. Stand with Him, and ye shall stand fast. Rest 
 in Him, and ye shall be at rest. Whither go ye in 
 rough ways ? Whither go ye ? The good that you 
 love is from Him ; but it is good and pleasant through 
 reference to Him, and justly shall it be embittered, if 
 He be forsaken for it. To what end then would ye 
 still and ever walk these difficult and toilsome ways ? 
 There is no rest, where ye seek it. Seek still 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 our death, out of the abun^ 
 dance of His own life : and He thundered, calling 
 aloud to us to return to Him into the secret place, 
 whence He came forth to* us, through the Virgin's
 
 Christ humbled that ice might rise. 79 
 
 womb, wherein He espoused the human creation, our 
 mortal flesh, that it might not be forever mortal, and 
 thence like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, 
 rejoicing as a giant to run his course. 1 For he lin- 
 gered not, but ran, calling aloud by words, deeds, 
 death, life, descent, ascension ; 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 remain with us, yet left us not ; for He 
 departed thither, whence He never parted, because 
 the world was made by Him? And in this world He 
 was, and into this world He came to save- sinners? 
 unto whom my soul confesseth, and He healeth it, for 
 it hath sinned against Him* O ye sons of men, 
 how long so slow of heart?* Even now, after the 
 descent of life to you, will ye not ascend and live ? 
 But whither ascend ye, when ye are high in your 
 own conceits, and set your mouth against the heav- 
 ens ? 6 Descend, that ye may ascend, and ascend to 
 God. For ye are fallen, by rising against Him." 
 Tell thy friends this, that they may weep in the val- 
 ley of tears, 7 and so 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 
 charity. 
 
 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 
 
 1 Ps. xix. 5 31 Tim. i. 15. 5 Ps. hr. 3. Vulg. 1 Ps. Ixxxiv. 6. 
 
 2 John i. 10 4 Ps. xli, 4. 6 Ps. Ixxiii. 9.
 
 80 Augustine's love of the beautiful. 
 
 anything but the beautiful ? What, then, is the beau- 
 tiful ? and what is beauty ? What, then, is it that 
 attracts and wins us to 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 
 perceived in bodies themselves there was a beauty 
 from their forming a sort of whole, and again, another 
 beauty 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 how many, O Lord, for it is gone from 
 me ; for I have them not, but they are strayed from 
 me, I know not how. 
 
 XIV. 21. But what moved me, O Lord my God, 
 to dedicate these books unto Hierius, an orator of 
 Rome, whom I knew not by face, but loved for the 
 fame of his learning, which was eminent in him, and 
 some words of his I had heard, which pleased me ? 
 But he pleased me chiefly because he pleased others, 
 who highly extolled him, amazed that out of a Syrian, 
 first instructed in Greek eloquence, should afterwards 
 be formed a wonderful Latin orator, and learned phi- 
 losopher. One is commended, and straightway he is 
 loved without being seen : doth this love enter the 
 heart of the hearer from the mouth of the corn- 
 mender? Not so. But by one who loveth is an- 
 other kindled. For he who is commended is loved 
 because the commender is believed to extol him with 
 an unfeigned heart ; that is, because one that loves 
 him praises him.
 
 Marts self-contradictions. 81 
 
 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 I loved men not for qualities like 
 those of a famous charioteer, or lighter with beasts 
 in the theatre, known far and wide by a vulgar popu- 
 larity, but far otherwise, and earnestly, and so as I 
 would be myself commended. For I would not be 
 commended or loved, as actors are (though I myself 
 did commend and love them), but had rather be un- 
 known, than so known ; and even hated, than so 
 loved. How are the impulses to such various and 
 divers kinds of loves laid up in one soul ? WRy, 
 since we are equally men, do I love in another what 
 I should spurn and cast from myself? For it holds 
 not, that as a good horse is loved by him who would 
 not be that horse, therefore the same may be said of 
 an actor, who shares our nature. Do I then love in a 
 man what I, who am a man, hate to be ? Man him- 
 self is a great deep, whose very hairs Thou number- 
 est, O Lord, and they fall not to the ground without 
 Thee. 1 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, 
 ns wishing to be myself such ; and I erred through a 
 swelling pride, and was tossed about with every wind* 
 but yet was steered by Thee, though very secretly. 
 And how do I know, and so confidently confess unto 
 Thee, that I loved him more for the sake of his corn- 
 menders, than for the very things for which he was 
 
 1 1 Matt. x. 29, 30. 2 Eph. iv. 14.
 
 82 Man sees not the truth before him. 
 
 commended ? Because, had he been unpraised, and 
 these self-same men had dispraised him, and with 
 dispraise and contempt told the very same things of 
 him, I had never been so kindled and excited to love 
 him. And yet the things had not been other, nor he 
 himself other ; but only the feelings of the relators. 
 See where the impotent soul lies prostrate, that is not 
 yet stayed up by the solidity of truth ! Just as the 
 gales of tongues blow from the breast of the opinion- 
 ative, so are we carried this way and that, driven 
 forward and backward, our light is overclouded, and 
 the truth unseen. And lo, the truth is before us. It 
 was to me a great matter that my discourse and 
 labors should be known to that man : which, should 
 he approve, I were the more kindled ; but if he dis- 
 approved, my empty heart, void of Thy solidity, had 
 been wounded. And yet the "Fair and Fit," where- 
 on I wrote to him, I dwelt on with pleasure, and 
 surveyed it, and admired it, though none joined 
 therein. 
 
 XV. 24. But I saw not yet, whereon this weighty 
 matter turned in Thy wisdom, O Thou Omnipotent, 
 who only doest wonders; 1 and my mind ranged 
 through corporeal forms -, and " fair," I defined and 
 distinguished as so in itself, and " fit," as so in cor- 
 respondence to some other thing : and this I sup- 
 ported 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, 
 
 1 Ps. cvi. 4.
 
 One error hinders from seeing other truth. ' 83 
 
 * 
 
 and I turned away my panting soul from incorporeal 
 substance to lineaments, and colors, and bulky mag- 
 nitudes. And not being able to see these in the 
 mind, I concluded that I could not have any knowl- 
 edge of the 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 unknown substance of irrational 
 life, and the nature of the chief evil, which should 
 not only be a substance, but real life also, and yet 
 not derived from Thee, O my God, of whom are all 
 things. And yet that first I called a Monad, as it 
 had been a soul without sex ; but the latter a Duad, 
 dividing into anger, in deeds of violence, and into 
 lust, in deeds of flagitiousness ; not knowing whereof 
 I spake. For I had not known or learned that nei- 
 ther was evil a substance, nor our soul that chief and 
 unchangeable good. 
 
 2"). For as deeds of violence arise if that emotion 
 of the soul be corrupted whence vehement action 
 springs, stirring itself insolently and unrulily; and 
 as lusts arise if that affection of the soul is ungov- 
 erned whereby carnal pleasures are drunk in : so do 
 errors and false opinions defile the conversation if 
 the reasonable soul itself be corrupted; as it was 
 then in me, who knew not that the soul must be 
 enlightened by another light, that it may be partaker 
 of truth, seeing that itself is not that essential nature
 
 84 God repels proud, though earnest, search. 
 
 
 
 of truth. For Thou shalt light my candle, Lord 
 my God, Thou shalt enlighten my darkness: 1 and of 
 Tliy fulness have we all received, for TJiou art the 
 true light that lighteth every man that cometh into 
 the world;* for in Thee there is no variableness, nei- 
 ther shadow of change? 
 
 26. But I pressed towards Thee, and was thrust 
 from Thee, that I might taste of death : for Thou 
 resistest the proud* But what prouder than for me, 
 with a strange madness, to assert myself to be that 
 by nature which Thou art ? For whereas I was sub- 
 ject to change (so much being manifest to me, since 
 my very desire to become wise, was a wish, of worse 
 to become better), yet chose I rather to imagine 
 Thee subject to change, than myself not to be that 
 which Thou art. Therefore I was repelled by Thee, 
 and Thou resistedst my vain stiffneckedness, and I 
 imagined corporeal forms, and although myself flesh, 
 I accused flesh ; and though I was a wind that pass- 
 eth away, I returned not & to Thee, but I passed on 
 and on to things which have no being, neither in 
 Thee, nor in me, nor in the body. Neither were 
 they created for me by Thy truth, but by my vanity 
 devised out of things corporeal. And I was wont to 
 ask Thy faithful little ones, my fellow-citizens (from 
 whom, unknown to myself, I stood exiled), I was 
 wont, prating and foolishly, to ask them, " Why then 
 doth the soul, which God created, err?" But I 
 would not be asked, "Why, then, doth God err?" 
 
 1 PB. xviii. 28. 8 Jam. i. 17. Ps. Ixxviii. 83. 
 
 2 John i. 16. 9. 41 Pet. v- 5; Jam. iv. 0.
 
 Cfreat quickness, when relied upon, a hindrance. 85 
 
 And I maintained that Thy unchangeable substance 
 did err 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 turned, O sweet Truth, to thy inward melody, 
 meditating on the " fair and fit," and longing to stand 
 and heai'ken to Thee, and to rejoice greatly at the 
 Bridegroom's voice, 1 but could not ; for by the 
 voices of mine own errors I was hurried abroad, and 
 through the weight of my own pride I was sinking 
 into the lowest pit. For Thou didst not make me to 
 hear joy and gladness, nor did the bones exult which, 
 were not yet humbled. 2 
 
 XVI. 28. And what did it profit me, that scarce 
 twenty years old, a book of Aristotle, which they 
 call the ten Predicaments, 3 falling into my hands (on 
 whose very name I hung, as on something great and 
 divine, whenever my rhetoric master of Carthage, 
 and others, accounted learned, mouthed it with 
 cheeks bursting with pride), I read and understood 
 it unaided? And on my conferring with others, 
 who said that they scarcely understood it with very 
 able tutors, not only orally explaining it, but drawing 
 many things in sand, they could tell me no more of 
 
 1 John ill. 29. 
 
 2 Pa. li. 8. 
 
 S All the relations of things were comprised by Aristotle tinder nine 
 heads; as quantity, quality, etc.; and these, with the "substance" in 
 which all inhere, make up the ten Predicaments, or Categories.
 
 86 Piety, not knowledge, or talents, enlightens. 
 
 it than I had learned, reading it by myself. And 
 the book appeared to me to speak very clearly of 
 substances, such as " man," and of their qualities, as 
 the figure of a man, of what sort it is ; and stature, 
 how many feet high; and his relationship, whose 
 brother he is ; or where placed ; or when born ; or 
 whether he stands or sits ; or be shod or armed ; or 
 does, or suffers anything ; and all the innumerable 
 things which might be ranged under these nine Pre- 
 dicaments, of which I have given some specimens, 
 or under that chief Predicament of Substance. 
 
 29. "What did all this further me, seeing it even 
 hindered me ? for imagining all being to be compre- 
 hended under those ten Predicaments, I essayed in 
 such wise to understand, O my God, 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 notwithstanding be a body. But it 
 was falsehood which I conceived concerning Thee, 
 not truth ; fictions of my misery, not the realities of 
 Thy Blessedness. For Thou hadst commanded, and 
 it was done in me, that the earth should bring forth 
 briers and thorns to me, and that in the sweat of my 
 brows I should eat my breaJ. l 
 
 30. And what did it profit^ me, that all the books I 
 could procure of the so-called liberal arts, I, the vile 
 
 1 Gen. iii. 18, 19.
 
 God unchangeable, man may return unto Him. 87 
 
 
 
 slave of vile affections, read by myself, and under- 
 stood? And I delighted in them, but knew not 
 whence came all that was true or certain in them. 
 For I had my back to the light, and my face to the 
 things enlightened ; whence my face, with which I 
 discerned the things enlightened, itself was not en- 
 lightened. Whatever was written, either on rhet- 
 oric, or logic, geometry, music, and arithmetic, I 
 understood by myself without much difficulty, or 
 any instructor, Thou knowest, O Lord, my God ; be- 
 cause both quickness of understanding, and acute- 
 ness in discerning, is Thy gift : yet did I not give 
 thanks for them to Thee. So then it served not to 
 my use, but rather to my perdition, since I went 
 about to get so good & portion of my substance into 
 my own keeping ; and I kept not my strength for 
 Thee, but wandered from Thee into afar country, to 
 spend it upon harlotries. 1 For what profited me 
 good abilities, not employed to good uses ? For I 
 perceived not that those arts were attained with 
 great difficulty, even by the studious and talented, 
 until I attempted to explain them to such ; when he 
 most excelled in them, who followed me altogether 
 slowly. 
 
 31. But what did this profit 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 Thy mercies towards me, 
 and to call upon Thee ; I wly> blushed not then to 
 
 l Luke xv. ; Ps. Iviii. 10. Vulg.
 
 88 All things known to God. 
 
 profess to men my blasphemies, and to bark against 
 Thee. What profited me then my nimble wit in 
 those sciences and all those most knotty volumes, 
 unravelled by me, without aid from human instruc- 
 tion ; seeing I erred so foully, and with such sacri- 
 legious shamefulness, in the doctrine of piety ? A 
 far slower wit was more profitable to Th-y 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; 1 protect us, and carry us. 
 Thou wilt carry us both when little, and even to 
 hoary hairs wilt Thou carry us;* for our firmness, 
 only when it is in Thee, is firmness ; but when it is 
 our own, it is infirmity. Our good ever lives with 
 Thee ; from which when we turn away, we are per- 
 verted. Let us, then, O Lord, return that we may 
 not be overturned ; because with Thee good lives 
 without any decay, for Thou art good ; nor need we 
 fear, lest there be no place whither to return, because 
 we fell from it : for our mansion, Thy eternity, 
 fell not when we left Thee. 
 
 iPa.lxiii. 7. 2is.xlvi.4.
 
 THE FIFTH BOOK. 
 
 AUGUSTINE'S TWENTY-NINTH YEAR FAUSTUS, A SNARE OF BAT AS 
 TO MANY, MADE AN INSTRUMENT OF DELIVERANCE TO AUGU8TINK 
 BY SHOWING THE IGNORANCE OF THE MANICHEE9 ON THOSE THINGg 
 WHEREIN THEY PROFESSED TO HAVE DIVINE KNOWLEDGE AUGUS- 
 TINE GIVES UP ALL THOUGHT OF GOING FURTHER AMONG THE MA- 
 LICHEES IS GUIDED TO ROME AND MILAN, WHERE HE HEARS 
 AMBROSE, LEAVES THE MANICHEES, AND BECOMES AGAIN A CATE- 
 CHUMEN IN THE CHUUCH CATHOLIC. 
 
 I. 1. Accept, O Lord, the sacrifice of my confes- 
 sions from the ministry of my tongue, which Thou 
 hast formed and stirred up to confess unto Thy 
 name. Heal Thou all my bones, and let them say, 
 Lord, 'who is like unto Thee? 1 For he who 
 confesses to Thee, doth not teach Thee what takes 
 place within him ; seeing a closed heart shuts not 
 out Thy eye, nor can man's hardheartedness thrust 
 back Thy hand : for Thou dissolvest it at Thy will 
 in pity or in vengeance, and nothing can hide itself 
 from Thy heat. 2 But let my soul praise Thee, that 
 it may love Thee ; and let it confess Thy own mer- 
 cies 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 
 Thoe, nor creation animate or inanimate, by the 
 voice of those who meditate thereon : that so our 
 
 l Ps xxxv. 20. 2 p 8 . xix. 6.
 
 90 All things known to God. 
 
 souls may from their weariness arise towards Thee, 
 leaning on those things which Thou hast created, 
 and passing on to Thyself who madest them won- 
 derfully; whereby cometh refreshment and true 
 strength. 
 
 II. 2. Let the-restless, the godless, depart and flee 
 from Thee ; yet Thou seest them, and dividest the 
 darkness. And behold, the universe with them is 
 fair, though they are foul. But how can they injure 
 Thee? or how disgrace Thy government, which, 
 from the heaven to this lowest earth, is just and per- 
 fect ? For whither fled they, when they fled from 
 Thy presence? 1 or where dost not Thou find them? 
 They fled, that they might not see Thee looking at 
 them, and blinded, might stumble against Thee: 2 
 (because Thou for -sakest nothing Thou hast made y 8 ) 
 that the unjust, I say, might stumble upon Thee, and 
 justly be hurt; withdrawing themselves from Thy 
 gentleness, and stumbling at Thy uprightness, and 
 falling upon their own ruggedness. Ignorant, in 
 truth, that Thou art everywhere, Whom no place 
 encompasseth ! that Thou alone art near, even to 
 those that remove far from Thee.* Let them, then, 
 turn, and seek Thee ; because not as they have for- 
 saken their Creator, hast Thou forsaken Thy crea- 
 tion. Let them be turned and seek Thee ; for 
 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 
 
 1 Ps. cxxxix. 7. s Wisd. xi. 25, old vers. 
 
 2 Gen. xvi. 14. * Pe. Ixxiii. 27.
 
 The wicked obey not, but must serve God. 91 
 
 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, remakest and. 
 corafortest them. But where was I when I was 
 seeking Thee? 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 Carthage, a certain Bishop of the Manichees, 
 Faustus by name, a great snare of the Devil, and 
 many were entangled by him through the lure 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 pre- 
 vail so far as to make judgment of this lower icorld, 
 the Lord of it they could by no means find out. 1 
 For Thou art great, Lord, and hast respect unto 
 the humble, but the proud Thou beholdest afar off? 
 Nor dost Thou draw near, but to the contrite in 
 
 1 WSsd. xiii. 9. 2 Ps. cxxxviii. 6.
 
 92 Discoveries of science lead not to God. 
 
 heart? nor art found by the proud, no, not though 
 by curious 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 hour, and how many 
 digits, nor did their calculation fail, but it came to 
 pass as they foretold ; and they wrote down the ruLes 
 they had found out, and these are read at this day, 
 and out of them do others foretell in what year, and 
 month of the year, and what day of the month, and 
 what hour of the day, and what part of its light, 
 moon or sun is to be eclipsed, and so it shall be as it 
 is foreshowed. At these things men, that know not 
 this art, marvel and are astonished, and they that 
 know it, exult, and are puffed up ; and by an ungodly 
 pride departing from Thee, and failing of Thy light, 
 they foresee so long before, a failure of the sun's 
 light, which shall be, but see not the failure of their 
 own, which now is. For they search not religiously 
 to know whence they have the wit wherewith they 
 search out this. And finding that Thou madest 
 them, they give not themselves up to Thee, to pre- 
 serve what Thou madest, nor sacrifice to Thee, what 
 they have made themselves ; nor slay their own soar- 
 ing imaginations, as fowls of the air, nor their own 
 diving curiosities (wherewith, like the fishes of the 
 
 l Ps. xxxiv. 18.
 
 We must sacrifice self, to know God. 93 
 
 sea? they wander over the unknown paths of the 
 abyss), nor their own luxuriousness, as beasts of the 
 field, that Thou, Lord, a consuming fire? mayest 
 burn up those dead cares of theirs, and recreate 
 themselves immortally. 
 
 5. For they knew not the Way, Thy "Word, 3 by 
 Whom Thou madest these things which they num- 
 ber, and themselves who number, and the sense 
 whereby they perceive what they number, and the 
 understanding out of which they number; or that 
 of Thy wisdom there is no number* But the Only 
 Begotten is Himself made unto us wisdom, and 
 righteousness, and sanctification? and was numbered 
 among us, and paid tribute unto Ccesar. 6 They 
 knew not this Way whereby to descend to Him 
 from themselves, and by Him ascend unto Him. 
 They knew not this Way, and deemed themselves 
 exalted among the stars and shining; and behold, 
 they fell upon the earth, and their foolish heart was 
 darkened. 7 They discourse many things truly con- 
 cerning the creature; but Truth, Artificer of the 
 creature, they seek not piously, and therefore find 
 Him not ; or if they find Him, knowing Sim to be 
 God, they glorify Him not as God, neither are 
 thankful, but become vain in their imaginations, and 
 profess themselves to be tcise, s attributing to them- 
 selves what is Thine ; and thereby with most per- 
 verse blindness, study to impute to Thee what is 
 
 1 Ts. viii. 7, 8. * Ps. cxlvii. 5. 1 Is. xiv. 13; Rev. xii. 4; Eom. 1.21. 
 
 2 Deut. iv. 24- 1 Cor. i. 30. 8 Eom. i. 21. 
 
 3 John i. 3. C Matt. xvii. 27. 
 
 9
 
 94 Knowledge of God the greatest happiness. 
 
 their own, forging lies of Thee who art the Truth, 
 and changing the glory of the uncorruptible God into 
 an image made like corruptible man, and to birds, 
 and four-footed beasts, and creeping things, changing 
 Thy truth into a lie, and worshipping and serving 
 the creature more than the Creator. 1 
 
 6. Yet many truths concerning the creature learned 
 I from these men, and saw the reason thereof from 
 calculations, the succession of times, and the visible 
 testimonies of the stars ; and compared them with 
 the views of Manichaeus, which in his frenzy he had 
 written out most largely on these subjects ; but I 
 discovered not any account of the solstices, or equi- 
 noxes, or the eclipses of the greater lights, nor what- 
 ever of this sort I had learned in the books of secular 
 philosophy. But I was commanded to believe ; and 
 yet it corresponded not with what had been estab- 
 lished by calculations and my own sight, but was 
 quite contrary. 
 
 IV. 7. Doth then, O Lord God of truth, he who 
 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 TJiee, he glorifies Thee as God, and 
 is thankful, and becomes not vain in his imagina- 
 tions? For as he is better off who knows how to 
 possess a tree, and return thanks to Thee for the use 
 thereof, although he know not how many cubits high 
 
 1 Horn. i. 23. 2 lloiu. i. 21.
 
 Heretics a learning to the faithful. 95 
 
 it is, or how wide it spreads, than he that can meas- 
 ure it, and count all its boughs, and neither owns it 
 nor knows or loves its Creator: so a believer, to 
 whom all this world of wealth belongs (since having 
 nothing, he yet possesseth all things? by cleaving 
 unto Thee, whom all things serve), though he know 
 not even the circles of the Great Bear, is doubtless 
 in a better state than one who can measure the heav- 
 ens and number the stars, and poise the elements, 
 yet neglecteth Thee who hast made all things in 
 number, weight and measure? 
 
 V. 8. But yet who bade that unknown Manichaeus 
 to write on these things, the knowledge of which is 
 no element of piety? For Thou hast said to man, 
 Behold, piety and wisdom / 3 of which he might be 
 ignorant, though he had perfect knowledge of these 
 things. But since ManichaBus in reality knew not 
 these things, and yet most impudently dared to teach 
 them, he plainly could have no knowledge of piety. 
 For it is vanity to make profession of these worldly 
 things even when known ; but confession to Thee is 
 piety. Wherefore this errorist to this end spake 
 much of these things, that convicted by those who 
 had truly learned them, it might be manifest what 
 understanding 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 within 
 him." When, therefore, he was found out to have 
 
 ICor. vi. 10. 2Wisd. xi. 20. 3 Job xxviii. 28. ULS.
 
 96 
 
 taught falsely of the heaven and stars, and of the 
 motions of the sun and moon (although these things 
 pertain not to the doctrine of religion), his sacri- 
 legious presumption became 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 corporeal creation can injure him, so long as he 
 doth not believe anything unworthy of Thee, O 
 Lord, the Creator of all. But it doth injure him if 
 he imagine it to pertain to the form of the doctrine 
 of piety, and will affirm that too stiffly whereof he is 
 ignorant. And yet is even such an infirmity, in the 
 infancy of faith, borne by our mother Charity, till the 
 new-born may grow up unto a perfect man>so as not 
 to be carried about with every wind of doctrine* 
 But in the instance of him who in such wise pre- 
 sumed to be the teacher, source, guide, chief of all 
 whom he could so persuade, that whoso followed 
 him thought that he followed not a mere man, but 
 Thy Holy Spirit; who would not judge that when 
 he were once convicted of having taught anything 
 false, he were to be detested and utterly rejected? 
 But I had not as yet clearly ascertained whether the 
 vicissitudes of longer and shorter days and nights, 
 
 1 Eph. iv. 13, 14.
 
 suspected) for its outward garb. . 97 
 
 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 consist- 
 ently with his sayings ; so that, if they by any 
 means might be, it should still remain a question to 
 me whether it were so or no ; and yet 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 unsettled mind J had been their disci- 
 ple, 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 difficulties, if I had them, 
 were to be most readily and abundantly cleared. 
 When, then, he came, I found him a man of pleasing 
 discourse, and who could speak fluently and in better 
 terms, yet still but the self-same things which they 
 were wont to say. But what availed the utmost 
 neatness of the cup-bearer, to my thirst for a more 
 precious draught? Mine ears were already cloyed 
 with the like, nor did they seem to me therefore 
 better, because better said ; nor therefore true, be- 
 cause 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 intel- 
 ligent and wise, because his words were pleasing. I 
 remembered, however, that another sort of people
 
 98 Faustiis* superficiality, how disguised. 
 
 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 J 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 anything to seem to 
 be spoken truly, because eloquently; nor therefore 
 falsely, because the utterance of the lips is inharmo- 
 nious ; nor, agajn, therefore true, because rudely de- 
 livered ; nor therefore false, because the language is 
 rich ; but that wisdom and folly are as wholesome 
 and unwholesome food ; and adorned or unadorned 
 phrases, as courtly or country vessels : either kind of 
 meats may be served up in either kind of dishes. 
 
 11. That longing, then, wherewith I had so long 
 expected that man, was delighted verily with his 
 action and feeling when disputing, and his choice 
 and readiness of words to clothe his ideas. I was 
 delighted, and, with many others and more than 
 they, did I praise and extol him. It troubled me, 
 however, that in the assembly of his auditors, I was 
 not allowed to put in, and communicate those ques- 
 tions that troubled me, in familiar converse with 
 him. Which, 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
 
 Fanstus* siqierfidality, how disguised. 99 
 
 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 speak- 
 ing, 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. Was it not thus, as I recall it, Lord 
 my God, Thou Judge of my conscience ? My heart 
 and my remembrance is before Thee, Who didst at 
 that time direct me by the hidden mystery of Thy 
 providence, and didst set those shameful errors of 
 mine before my face, that I might see and hate 
 them. 1 
 
 VII. 12. For, after it Was clear that he was igno- 
 rant of those arts in which I thought he excelled, I 
 began to despair of his opening and solving the diffi- 
 culties which perplexed me (of which, indeed, how- 
 ever ignorant, he might yet 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, sun and moon ; and I now no longer thought 
 him able satisfactorily to decide what I much desired, 
 whether, on comparison of these things with the cal- 
 culations I had elsewhere read, the account givenin 
 the books of ManichaBus were preferable, or at least 
 as good. Which, when I proposed 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 
 
 1 Ps. 1. 21.
 
 100 Snares to others disentangle Augustine. 
 
 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 alto- 
 gether treacherous to himself. For he was not al- 
 together 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 Manicha3us being 
 thus blunted, and despairing yet more of their other 
 teachers, seeing that in divers things which perplexed 
 me, he, so renowned among them, had so turned out ; 
 I began to engage with him in the study of that lit- 
 erature, on which he also was much set (and which 
 as rhetoric-reader I was at that time teaching young 
 students at Carthage), and to read with him, either 
 what himself desired to hear, or such as I judged fit 
 for his genius. But all my efforts whereby I had 
 purposed to advance in that sect, upon knowledge 
 of that man, came utterly to an end ; not that I 
 detached myself from them altogether, but as one 
 finding nothing better, I had settled to be content 
 meanwhile with what I had in whatever way fallen 
 upon, unless by chance something more eligible 
 should dawn upon me. Thus Faustus, to so many a 
 snare of death, had now, neither willing nor witting 
 it, begun to loosen that wherein I was taken. For
 
 Augustine led to Home, for his salvation. 101 
 
 Thy hands, O my God, in the secret purpose of Thy 
 providence, did not forsake my soul ; and out of my 
 mother's heart's blood, through her tears night and 
 day poured out, was a sacrifice offered for me unto 
 Thee ; and Thou didst deal with me by wondrous 
 ways. 1 Thou didst it, O my God : for the steps of a 
 man are ordered by the Lord, and He shall dispose 
 his way? Or how shall we obtain salvation, but 
 from Thy hand, remaking what It made ? 
 
 VIII. 14. It was Thy doing, O Lord, that I should 
 be persuaded to go to Rome, and to teach there 
 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 
 to go to Koine, because higher gains and higher 
 dignities were wan-anted 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 I heard that 
 young men studied there more peacefully, and were 
 kept quiet under a restraint of more regular disci- 
 pline ; so that they did not, at their pleasure, petu- 
 lantly rush into the school of one whose pupils they 
 were not, nor were even admitted without his per- 
 mission. Whereas, at Carthage, there reigns among 
 the scholars a most disgraceful and unruly license. 
 They burst in audaciously, and, with gestures almost 
 frantic, disturb all order which any one hath estab- 
 
 l Joel ii. 26. 2 Pg. xxxvii. 23.
 
 102 Others' vanities and his own. 
 
 lished for the good of his scholars. Divers outrages 
 they commit, with a wonderful stolidity, punishable 
 by law, did not custom uphold them ; that custom 
 evincing them to be the more miserable, in that they 
 now do as lawful what by Thy eternal law shall never 
 be lawful ; and they think they do it unpunished, 
 whereas they are punished with 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 own, I was fain, as 
 a teacher, to endure in others : and so I was well 
 pleased to go where all that knew assured me that 
 the like was not done. But Thou, my refuge and 
 my portion in the land of the living? that I might 
 change my earthly dwelling for the salvation of my 
 soul, at Carthage didst goad me, that I might thereby 
 be torn from it ; and at Rome didst proffer me allure- 
 ments, whereby I might be drawn thither, by men in 
 love with a dying life : the one class doing frantic, 
 the other promising vain, things ; and, to correct my 
 steps, didst secretly use their and my own perverse- 
 ness. For both they who disturbed my quiet were 
 blinded with a disgraceful frenzy, and they who in- 
 vited me elsewhere, savored of earth. And I, who 
 here detested real misery, went there seeking unreal 
 happiness. 
 
 15. But why I went hence, and went thither, 
 Thou knowest, O God, yet showedst it neither to 
 me nor to my mother, who grievously bewailed my 
 journey, and followed me as far as the sea. But I 
 
 1 Pa cxlii. 5.
 
 His mother's prayers heard, though denied. 103 
 
 deceived her, as she held 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 wind to sail. And I lied to my mother, 
 and to such a mother, and escaped. For this also 
 hast Thou mercifully forgiven me, preserving me, 
 thus full of execrable defilements, from the waters 
 of the sea, for the water of Thy Grace ; whereby, 
 when I was cleansed, the streams of my mother's 
 eyes should be dried, with which for me she daily 
 watered the ground under her face. And yet refus- 
 ing to return without me, I scarcely persuaded her 
 to stay that night in a place hard by our ship, where 
 was an Oratory in memory of the blessed Cyprian. 
 That night I privily departed, but she remained 
 weeping and in prayer. And what, O Lord, was she 
 with so many tears asking of Thee, but that Thou 
 wonldest not suffer me to sail ? But Thou, in the 
 depth of Thy counsels and hearing the main point 
 of her desire, regardest not what she then asked, 
 that Thou mightest make me what she ever asked. 
 The* wind blew and swelled our sails, and withdrew 
 the shore from our sight; and she on the morrow 
 was there, frantic with sorrow, and with complaints 
 and groans filled Thine ears, who didst then disre- 
 gard them ; whilst through my desires, Thou wert 
 hurrying me to end all desire, and the earthly part 
 of her affection to me was chastened by the allotted 
 scourge of sorrows. For she loved to have me with 
 her, as mothers do, but much more than most; and 
 she knew not how great joy Thou wert about to
 
 104 His apathy in dangerous illness. 
 
 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, carrying all the sins which I had committed, 
 both against Thee, and myself, and others, many and 
 grievous, over and above that bond of original sin, 
 whereby we all die in Adam. 1 For Thou hadst not 
 forgiven me any of these things in Christ, nor had 
 He abolished by His. cross the enmity which by my 
 sins I had incurred by Thee. For how could He, by 
 the crucifixion of a phantasm, which I believed Him 
 to be? Thus the death of my soul was as real as 
 the death of His flesh seemed to me false ; and as 
 real as was 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 
 forever. For had I then parted hence, whither had 
 I departed, but into fire and torments, such as my 
 misdeeds deserved in the truth of Thy appointment ? 
 And this my mother knew not, yet in absence prayed 
 for me. But Thou, everywhere present, heardest her 
 where she was, and, where I was, hadst compassion 
 upon me; that I should recover the health of my 
 body, though frenzied as yet in my sacrilegious heart. 
 
 l 1 Cor. xv. 22.
 
 Monica? 's devotions and visions. 105 
 
 For I did not iu all that danger desire Thy baptism ; 
 and I was better as a boy, when I begged it of my 
 mother's piety, as I have before recited and con- 
 fessed. But I had grown up to my own shame, and 
 I madly scoffed at the prescripts of Thy medicine, 
 yet wouldest Thou not suffer me, being such, to die 
 a double death. With which Wound had my mo- 
 .ther'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 labor of me in the spirit, than at her 
 childbearing in the flesh. 1 
 
 17. I see not then how she should have been 
 healed, had such a death of mine stricken through 
 the bowels of her love. And where, then, would 
 have been her so strong and unceasing prayers ? 
 But wouldest Thou, O God of mercies, despise the 
 contrite and humbled heart 2 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, 
 without any intermission, coming to Thy church, not 
 for idle tattlings and old wives' fables, 3 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, 
 
 l Gal. iv. 9. 2 rs. li. 51. 3 l Tim. v. 10.
 
 106 Augustine continues a Manichee. 
 
 in that order wherein Thou hadst determined before, 
 that it should be done. Far be it that Thou should- 
 est 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 forever^ vouch- 
 safest 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 which number was he in whose house I had 
 fallen sick and recovered) ; but also with those whom 
 they call << The Elect." For I still thought, that it 
 was not we that sin, but that I know not what other 
 nature sinned in us;" and it delighted my pride to 
 be free from blame, and when I had done any evil, 
 not to confess I had done any, that Thou mightest 
 heal my soul because it had sinned against Thee: 1 
 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 
 
 l Ps. xli. 4.
 
 Risk of scepticism in parting from error. 107 
 
 be overcome in me to my destruction, than myself 
 to be overcome of Thee to salvation. Not as yet 
 then hadst Thou set a watch before my mouth, and a 
 door of safe keeping around my lips, that my heart 
 might not turn aside to wicked speeches, to make 
 excuses of si?is, with men that work iniquity : and 
 therefore was I still united with their Elect. 1 
 
 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 con- 
 tented, I now held more laxly and carelessly. For 
 there half arose a thought in me, that those philoso- 
 phers, whom they call Academics, were wiser than 
 the rest, for that they held, men ought to doubt 
 everything, and laid down that no truth can be com- 
 prehended by man : for so, not then understanding 
 even their meaning, I also was clearly convinced that 
 they thought as they are commonly reported. Yet 
 did I freely and openly discourage that host of mine 
 from that over-confidence which I perceived him to 
 have in those fables, which the books of Manichaeus 
 are full of. Yet I lived in more familiar friendship 
 with them than with others who were not of this 
 heresy. Nor did I maintain it with my ancient 
 eagerness ; still my intimacy with that sect (Rome 
 secretly harboring many of them) made me slower 
 to seek any other way : especially since I despaired 
 of finding the truth, from which they had turned me 
 aside, in Thy Church, O Lord of heaven and earth, 
 Creator of all things visible and invisible: and it 
 
 1 Ps. <ydi. 3, 4. VuJg.
 
 108 One wrong doctrine 
 
 seemed to me very unseemly to believe Thee to have 
 the shape of human flesh, and to be bounded by the 
 bodily lineaments of our members. And because, 
 when I wished to think on my God, I knew not what 
 to think of, but a mass of bodies (for what was not 
 such did not seem to me to be anything), this was 
 the greatest, and almost only cause of my inevitable 
 error. 
 
 20. For hence I believed Evil also to be some kind 
 of substance, and to have its own foul and hideous 
 bulk ; whether gross, which they called earth, or thin 
 and subtile (like the body of the air), which they 
 imagine to be some malignant mind creeping through 
 that earth. And because a piety, such as it was, 
 constrained me to believe, that the good God never 
 created any evil nnture, I conceived two masses, con- 
 trary to one another, both unbounded, but the evil 
 narrower, the good more expansive. And from this 
 pestilent beginning, the other sacrilegious conceits 
 followed on me. For when my mind endeavored to 
 recur to the Catholic faith, I was driven back, since 
 that was not the Catholic faith, which I thought to 
 be so. And I seemed to myself more reverential, if 
 I regarded Thee, my God (to whom Thy mercies 
 confess out of my mouth), as unbounded at least on 
 all other sides (although on that one where the mass 
 of evil was opposed to Thee I was constrained to 
 confess Thee bounded), than if on all sides I should 
 iiffajjine Thee to be bounded bv the form of a human 
 
 O * 
 
 body. And it seemed to me better to believe Thee 
 to have created no evil (which to me in my igno-
 
 the par en t of others. 109 
 
 ranee seemed not only a substance, but a bodily 
 substance, because I could not conceive of mind un- 
 less as a subtile body, and that diffused in definite 
 spaces), than to believe that the nature of evil, such 
 as I conceived it, could come from Thee. Yea, and 
 our Saviour Himself, Thy Only Begotten, I believed 
 to have been reached forth (as it were) for our sal- 
 vation, out of the mass of Thy most lucid substance, 
 so as to believe nothing of Him but what I could 
 image in my vanity. His Nature, then, being such, 
 I thought could not be born of the Virgin Mary, 
 without being mingled with the flesh : and how that 
 which I had so figured to myself could be mingled, 
 and not defiled, I saw not. I feared therefore to be- 
 lieve Him born in the flesh, lest I should be forced to 
 believe Him defiled by the flesh. Now will Thy 
 spiritual ones mildly and lovingly smile upon me, 
 if they shall read these my confessions. Yet such 
 was I. 
 
 XI. 21. Furthermore, what the Manichees had 
 criticized 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 Helpidius, as 
 he ^poke and disputed face to face against the said 
 Manichees, had begun to stir me even at Carthage : 
 in that he had produced things out of the Scriptures 
 not easily withstood, the Manichees' answer whereto 
 seemed to me weak. And this answer they liked 
 not to give publicly, but only to us in private. It 
 
 10
 
 110 Manichees and Scripture opposed. 
 
 was, that the Scriptures of the New Testament had 
 been corrupted by certain ones, I know not whom, 
 who wished to engraft the law of the Jews upon the 
 Christian faith : yet themselves produced not any 
 uncorrupted copies. But I, conceiving of things 
 corporeal only, was strongly 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. 22. I began then diligently to practise that 
 for which I came to Rome, to teach rhetoric ; and 
 first, to gather some to my house, to whom, and 
 through whom, I had begun to be known ; when lo ! 
 I found other offences committed in Rome, to which 
 I was not exposed in Africa. True, those " subvert- 
 ings " by profligate young men, 1 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 together, and remove to another, 
 breakers of faith, who for love of money hold justice 
 cheap. These also my heart hated, though not with 
 a perfect hatred:* for perchance I hated them more 
 because I was to suffer by them, than because they 
 did things utterly unlawful. Of a truth, such are 
 base persons, and they go a whoring from Thee, lov- 
 ing these fleeting mockeries of things temporal,\nd 
 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 
 
 1 Supra, p. 46. 2 Ts. cxxxix. 22.
 
 Sources of Ambrose's influence- 111 
 
 hate such depraved and crooked persons, though I 
 love them if they can be corrected so as to prefer to 
 money the learning which they acquire, and to learn- 
 ing, Thee, O God, the truth and fulness of assured 
 good, and most pure peace. But then, I rather for 
 my own sake disliked them, and wished 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 van- 
 ities, to be freed wherefrom I was to go, neither of 
 us, however, knowing it) that Symmachus, then pre- 
 fect of the city, would try me by setting me some 
 subject, and so send me. To Milan I came, to Am- 
 brose the Bishop, known to the whole world as 
 among the best of men, Thy devout servant ; whose 
 eloquent discourse did then plentifully dispense unto 
 Thy people the fatness of Thy wheat, the gladness 
 of Thy oil, and the sober inebriation of Thy wine. 1 
 To him was I unconsciously led by Thee, that by him 
 I might consciously be led to Thee. That man of 
 God received me as a father, and showed me an 
 episcopal kindness on my coming. Thenceforth I 
 began to love him, at first indeed not as a teacher 
 of the truth (which I utterly despaired of in Thy 
 Church), but as a person kind towards myself. And 
 I listened diligently to him. preaching to the people, 
 not with the intent I ought, but, as it were, trying 
 
 i Ps. iv. 7; civ. 16.
 
 112 Augustine's perplexed notions. 
 
 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 harmoni- 
 ous, than that of Faustus. Of the matter, however, 
 there was no comparison ; for the one was wandering 
 amid Manichsean delusions, the other teaching salva- 
 tion most soundly. But salvation is far from sin- 
 ners, 1 such as I then stood before him ; and yet was 
 I drawing nearer by little and little, and uncon- 
 sciously. 
 
 XIV. 24. For though I took no pains to learn 
 what he spake, but only to hear how he spake (for 
 that empty interest in style alone was left me, de- 
 spairing of a way y open for man, to Thee) ; yet 
 together with the words which I would choose, came 
 also into my mind the things which I would refuse ; 
 for I could not separate them. And while I opened 
 my heart to admit " how eloquently he spake," there 
 also entered " how truly he spake ;" but this by de- 
 grees. For first, the things spoken by Ambrose 
 began now 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 shame- 
 lessness; especially after I had heard one or two 
 places of the Old Testament resolved, and ofttimes 
 "in a figure"* which when I understood only accord- 
 
 l Ts. cxix. 156. 8 ICor. xiii. 12; 2 Cor. iii. 6.
 
 Augiistinds perplexed notions. 113 
 
 ing to the letter, I was slain. Very many places 
 then of those books having been explained, I now 
 blamed my despair, in 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, be- 
 cause it also could find learned maintainers, who 
 could at large and with some show of reason answer 
 objections; nor that what I held was therefore to 
 be condemned, because both sides could be main- 
 tained. 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 con- 
 ceived a spiritual substance, all their strongholds 
 had been beaten down, and cast utterly out of 
 mind ; but I could not. Notwithstanding, concern- 
 ing the frame of this world, and the whole of na- 
 ture, 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) 1 
 doubting everything, and wavering between all, I 
 settled so far, that the Manichees were to be aban- 
 doned ; judging that, even while doubting, I ought 
 not to continue in that sect to which I already pre- 
 ferred some of the philosophers ; to which philoso- 
 
 1 Compare Augustine's De Civitate Dei, Lib. XIX. c. i. ED.
 
 114 lie returns to the Church. 
 
 pliers, notwithstanding, for that they were without 
 the saving Name of Christ, I utterly refused to com- 
 mit the cure of my sick soul. I determined there- 
 fore to be a Catechumen in the Catholic Church, to 
 which I had been commended by my parents, until 
 something certain should dawn upon rue, whither I 
 might steer my course.
 
 THE SIXTH BOOK. 
 
 ARRIVAL OP MONICA AT MILAN HER OBEDIENCE TO AMBROSE, AND 
 HIS REGARD FOR HER AMBROSE'S HABITS AUGUSTINE'S GRAD- 
 UAL ABANDONMENT OF ERROR FINDS THAT HE HAS BLAMED THB 
 CATHOLIC CHURCH WRONGLY DESIRE OF ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY", 
 BUT STRUCK WITH THE CONTRARY ANALOGY OF GOD'S NATURAL 
 PROVIDENCE HOW SHAKEN IN HIB WORLDLY PURSUITS GOD'S 
 GUIDANCE OF HIS FRIEND ALYPIUS AUGUSTINE DEBATES WITH 
 HIMSELF AND HIS FRIENDS ABOUT THEIR MODE Off LIKE HIS IN- 
 VETERATE SINS, AND DREAD OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 I. I. Thou, my hope from my youth? where 
 wert Thou 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 depaired of ever finding truth. My mother had 
 now come to me, resolute through piety, following 
 me over sea and land, in all perils confiding in Thee. 
 For in perils of the sea, she comforted the very mar- 
 iners (by whom passengers unacquainted with the 
 deep, used rather to be comforted when troubled), 
 ' assuring them of a safe arrival, because Thou hadst 
 
 1 Ts. Ixxi. 6.
 
 116 Monica? s hopes of her son. 
 
 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 relieved concern- 
 ing a part of my misery, for which she bewailed me 
 as one dead, though to be reawakened by Thee. I 
 was carried forth, therefore, upon the bier of her 
 thoughts, that Thou mightest say to the son of the 
 widow, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise ; and he 
 should revive, and begin to speak, and thou shouldest 
 deliver him to his mother* Her heart then was 
 shaken with no tumultuous exultation, when she 
 heard that what she daily with tears -desired of 
 Thee, was already in so great part realized ; in that, 
 though I had not yet attained the truth, I was res- 
 cued from falsehood; but, as being assured that 
 Thou, who hadst promised the whole, wouldest one 
 day give the rest, more 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 dark- 
 ness; and she hastened the more eagerly to the 
 Church, and hung upon the lips of Ambrose, praying 
 for the fountain of that water, which springeth up 
 unto life everlasting? But that man she loved as an 
 
 l Luke vii. 14, 15. 2 John iv. 14.
 
 Her obedience to Ambrose. 117 
 
 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." 
 
 II. 2. When then my mother had once, as she was 
 wont in Africa, 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 the bishop had forbidden this, she so 
 piously and obediently embraced his wishes, that I 
 myself wondered how readily she censured her own 
 practice, rather than discuss his prohibition. 1 For 
 wine-bibbing did not lay siege to her spirit, nor did 
 love of wine provoke her to hatred of the truth, as 
 it doth too many (both men and women), who revolt 
 at a lesson of sobriety, as men well-drunk at a 
 draught mingled with water. But she, when she had 
 brought her basket of festival-food, to be but tasted 
 by herself, and then given away, never joined there- 
 with more than one small cup of wine, diluted ac- 
 cording to her own abstemious habits, which for 
 courtesy she would taste. And if there were many 
 churches of the departed saints, that were to be 
 honored in that manner, she still carried round that 
 same one cup, to be used everywhere; and this, 
 though not only made very watery, but unpleasantly 
 heated by carrying about, she would distribute to 
 those about her by small sips ; for she sought there 
 
 1 Compare Augustini Epistolae xxii., xxix. ED.
 
 118 Her obedience to Ambrose. 
 
 devotion, not pleasure. So soon, then, as she found 
 this custom to be forbidden 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 furthermore, because 
 these, as it were, anniversary funeral solemnities did 
 much resemble the superstition of the Gentiles, 
 she most willingly forbare it : and in the place of a 
 basket filled with the fruits of the earth, she 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 rightly celebrated in the 
 places 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 cus- 
 tom, had it been forbidden by another whom she 
 loved not as Ambrose, whom, for my salvation, she 
 loved most entirely ; and he loved her again, for her 
 most religious conversation, whereby in good works, 
 so fervent in spirit, she was constant at church ; so 
 that, when he saw me, he often burst forth in her 
 praise, congratulating me that I had such a mother; 
 not knowing what a son she had in me, who doubted 
 of all these things, and imagined the way to life could 
 not be found out. 
 
 III. 3. Nor did I yet groan in my prayers, that 
 Thou wonkiest help me ; but my spirit was wholly 
 intent on learning, and restless to dispute. And
 
 Ambrose's mode of life. 119 
 
 Ambrose himself, as the world counts happy, I es- 
 teemed a happy man, whom personages so great held 
 in such honor ; only his celibacy seemed to me a 
 painful course. But what hope he bore within him, 
 what struggles he had against the temptations which 
 beset his very excellencies, or what comfort in adver- 
 sity, and what sweet joys Thy Bread had for the 
 hidden mouth of his spirit, when chewing the cud 
 thereof, I neither could conjecture, nor had experi- 
 enced. 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 peo- 
 ple, 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. Ofttimes 
 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 sm:ill 
 interval, which he obtained, free from the din of 
 others' business, for the recruiting of his mind, he 
 was loath to be taken off; and perchance he feared 
 lest if the author he read should deliver anything 
 obscurely, some attentive or perplexed hearer should
 
 120 Ambrose's mode of life. 
 
 desire him to expound it, or to discuss some of the 
 harder questions ; so that his time being thus spent, 
 he could not turn over so many volumes as he 
 desired; although the preserving of his voice (which 
 a very little speaking would weaken), might be the 
 truer reason for his reading to himself. But with 
 what intent soever he did it, certainly in such a man 
 it was good. 
 
 4. I, however, had no opportunity of inquiring 
 what I wished of that so holy oracle of Thine, 
 his breast, unless the thing might be answered 
 briefly. But those tides in me, to be poured out 
 to him, required his full leisure, and never found 
 it. I heard him indeed every Lord's day, rightly ex- 
 pounding the Word of truth, 1 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 unravelled. But when I understood withal, that 
 the w r ords, " man, created by Thee, after Thine oicn 
 image" were not so understood by Thy spiritual 
 sons, whom of the Catholic Mother Thou hast regen- 
 erated through grace, as though they believed and 
 conceived of Thee as bounded by human shape ; 
 (although what a spiritual substance should be I had 
 not even a faint or shadowy notion) ; yet, with joy I 
 blushed at 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 inquiring to have learned, I 
 
 1 2 Tim. ii. 15.
 
 Augustine's notions of the Catholic faith. 121 
 
 had ignorantly pronounced upon, condemning. For 
 Thou, Most High, and most near, most secret, and 
 most present, Who hast not limbs some larger, some 
 smaller, but art wholly everywhere, and nowhere in 
 space, art not of corporeal shape, yet hast Thou made 
 man after Thine own image ; and behold, from head 
 to foot is he contained in space. 
 
 IV. 5. Being ignorant then how this Thy image 
 should subsist, I should have knocked and proposed 
 the question, how it was to be believed, and not in- 
 sultingly opposed it, as if believed. Doubt, then, as 
 to what to hold for certain, the more sharply gnawed 
 my heart, the more ashamed I was, that so long de- 
 luded and deceived by the promise of certainties, I 
 had with childish error and vehemence, prated of so 
 many uncertainties. For that they were falsehoods, 
 became clear to me later. However, I was certain 
 that they were uncertain, and that I had formerly 
 accounted them certain, when with a .blind conten- 
 tiousness, I accused Thy Catholic Church, whom I 
 now discovered, not indeed as yet to teach truly, but 
 at least not to teach that for which I had grievously 
 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 doc- 
 trines maintained any tenet which should confine 
 Thee, the Creator of all, in space, however great and 
 large, yet bounded everywhere by the limits of a 
 human form.
 
 122 Process whereby Augustine 
 
 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 sermons to the people, often- 
 times most diligently recommend this text for a rule, 
 The letter killeth, but the Spirit giveth life;^ whilst 
 he drew aside the mystic veil, laying open spiritually 
 what, according to the letter, seemed to teach some- 
 thing unsound ; teaching herein nothing that of- 
 fended me, though he taught what I knew not as yet 
 whether it were true. For I kept my heart from 
 assenting to anything, 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 compre- 
 hended ; but I desired to have other things as clear 
 as this, whether things corporeal, which were not 
 present to my senses, or spiritual, whereof I knew 
 not how to conceive, except corporeally. By believ- 
 ing I might have been cured, and the eyesight of my 
 soul being cleared, might have been directed to Thy 
 truth, which abideth always, and in no part faileth. 
 But as he who has tried a bad physician, fears to 
 trust himself with a good one, so was it with the 
 health of my soul, which could not be healed but by 
 believing, and lest it should believe falsehoods, re- 
 fused to be cured ; resisting Thy hands, who hast 
 
 l 2 Cor. iii. 6.
 
 came to believe the Scriptures. 123 
 
 prepared the medicines of faith, and hast applied 
 them to the diseases of the whole world, and given 
 unto them so great authority. 
 
 V. 7. Being led, however, from this to prefer the 
 Catholic doctrine, I felt that her proceeding was 
 more unassuming and honest, in that she required 
 belief in things not demonstrated (whether it was 
 that they could in themselves be demonstrated but 
 not to certain persons, or could not at all be), whereas 
 among the 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 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 reports of friends, so many 
 of physicians, so many continually of other men, 
 which unless we should believe, we should know noth- 
 ing at all in this life ; lastly, with how unshaken an 
 assurance I believed of what parents I was born, 
 which I could not know had I not believed upon 
 hearsay, considering all this, Thou didst persuade 
 me, that not they w r ho 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
 
 124 Begins to believe the Scriptures. 
 
 those Scriptures to have been imparted unto man- 
 kind 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 all that multi- 
 tude of blasphemous questionings which I had read 
 in the self-contradicting philosophers, could wring 
 this belief from me, "That Thou art" whatsoever 
 Thou art 1 (what I knew not), and "That the gov- 
 ernment of human things belongs to Thee." 
 
 8. This I believed, sometimes more strongly, more 
 weakly other-whiles ; yet I ever believed both that 
 Thou art, and hast a care of us; though I was 
 ignorant both what was to be thought of Thy sub- 
 stance, and what way led or led back to Thee. 
 Since, then, we are too weak by abstract reasonings 
 to find out truth, and for this very cause need the 
 authority of Holy Writ, I began to believe that 
 Thou wouldest never have given such excellency of 
 authority to Scripture in all lands, hadst Thou not 
 willed thereby to be believed in, and sought. For 
 those things, sounding strangely in the Scripture, 
 which were wont to offend me, being now expounded 
 satisfactorily, I referred to the depth of the myste- 
 ries; 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 
 
 I Ex. iii. 14.
 
 Augustine's inward unrest. 12a 
 
 heart ; that so it might receive all in its open bosom, 
 and through narrow passages waft over towards Thee 
 some few, yet many more than if it stood not aloft 
 on such a height of authority, ftor 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. 
 
 VI. 9. I panted after honors, gains, marriage ; and 
 Thou deridedst me. In these desires I underwent 
 most bitter crosses, Thou being the more gracious, 
 the less Thou sufferedst aught to grow sweet to me 
 which was not Thyself. Behold my heart, O Lord, 
 who wouldest I should remember all this, and con- 
 fess to Thee. Let my soul cleave unto Thee, now 
 that Thou hast freed it from that fast-holding bird- 
 lime of death. How wretched was it! and Thou 
 didst irritate the sense of its wounds, that, forsaking 
 all else, it might be converted unto Thee, who art 
 above all, and without whom all things would be 
 nothing; and so be converted, and healed. How 
 miserable was I then, and how didst Thou deal with 
 me to make me feel my misery on that day when I 
 was preparing to recite a panegyric of the Emperor, 1 
 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 thoughts. For, 
 
 1 Valentinian II. : Compare Aug. Contra retUianum, III. 25, and Tos. 
 sidonius De Vita Augustiui, 1. ED. 
 
 11
 
 126 The sight of a drunken beggar a lesson. 
 
 passing through one of the streets of Milan, I ob- 
 served a poor beggar, then, I suppose, with a full 
 belly, joking and joyous : and I sighed, and spoke to 
 the friends around me of the many sorrows of our 
 ambitions; for that by 'all such efforts of ours, as 
 those wherein I^then toiled, dragging along, under 
 the goading of desire, the burthen of my own 
 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 one much less true. 
 For certainly he was joyous, I anxious ; he void of 
 care, I full of fears. But should any ask me, had I 
 rather be merry or fearful ? I would answer, merry. 
 Again, if he asked had I rather be such as he was, 
 or what I then was? I should choose to be myself, 
 though worn with cares and fears ; but would this be 
 wise, and according to reason ? For 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 beggar-man joyed in. drunkenness; Thou
 
 Sis friend Alypius. 127 
 
 wouldest 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. For he that very night would digest his 
 drunkenness ; but I had slept and risen again with 
 mine, and was to sleep again, and again to rise with 
 it, how many days, Thou, God, knowest. But " it 
 doth make a difference whence a man's joy is." I 
 know it, and the joy of a faithful hope lieth incom- 
 parably beyond such vanity. Yea, and so was that 
 beggar then beyond me : for he verily was the hap- 
 pier; not only ibr that he was thoroughly drenched 
 in mirth, I disembowelled with cares : but he, by fair 
 wishes had gotten wine ; I, by lying, was seeking for 
 empty, swelling praise. Much to this purpose said I 
 then to my friends : and I often marked in them the 
 same experience with my own ; and I found it went 
 ill with me, and grieved, and doubled that very ill ; 
 and if any prosperity smiled on me, I was loath to 
 catch at it, for almost before I could grasp it, it flew 
 away. 
 
 VII. 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. Alypius was born in the same town with 
 me, of persons of chief rank there, but he was 
 younger than I. He had studied under me, both 
 when I first lectured in our town, and afterwards at 
 Carthage, and he loved me much, because I seemed 
 to him kind, and learned ; and I loved him for his 
 great towardliness to virtue, which was eminent in
 
 128 His friend Alypius cured by 6ro<7, 
 
 one of no greater years. Yet the whirlpool of Car- 
 thaginian habits (amongst whom those idle spectacles 
 are hotly followed) had drawn him into the madness 
 of the Circus. But while he was miserably tossed 
 therein, and I, professing rhetoric there in a public 
 school, he as yet came not under my teaching, by 
 reason of some unkindness risen betwixt his father 
 and me. I had found how deadly he doted upon the 
 Circus, and was deeply grieved that he seemed likely 
 to throw 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 author- 
 ity of a master. For I supposed that he thought of 
 me as his father did ; but it was not so ; and laying 
 aside his father's mind in that matter, he began to 
 greet me, came sometimes into my lecture-room, hear 
 a little, and begone. 
 
 12. I, however, had forgotten to deal with him, so 
 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, a priest and dis- 
 penser of Thy Sacrament ; and that his amendment 
 might plainly be attributed to Thyself, Thou effect- 
 edst it through me, but unknowingly. 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 explain- 
 ing, a likeness from the Circensian races occurred to
 
 through a chance word of Augustine. 129 
 
 me, as likely to make what I would convey pleas- 
 anter 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 what another would have taken as occa- 
 sion of offence with 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. 1 But I had not rebuked 
 him, but Thou, who eraployest all, knowing 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 hope- 
 ful mind, thus languishing, and so cure it. Let him 
 be silent in Thy praises, who considers not Thy mer- 
 cies, which confess unto Thee out of my inmost soul. 
 For upon that speech, Alypius burst out of that pit 
 so deep, wherein he was wilfully plunged, and was 
 blinded with its wretched pastimes ; and he roused 
 his mind with a strong self-command*; whereupon all 
 the filths of the Circensian pastimes flew off from 
 him, nor returned he again thither. Upon this, he 
 prevailed with his unwilling father, that he might be 
 my scholar. He gave way, and gave in. And Alyp- 
 ius beginning to be my hearer again, was involved 
 in the same superstition with me, loving in the Man- 
 ichees that show of consistency, which he supposed
 
 130 Alypius betrayed by self-confidence 
 
 true and unfeigned. Whereas it was a senseless and 
 seducing continency, ensnaring precious souls, un- 
 able 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. Not forsaking that secular course which 
 his parents had charmed him to pursue, he had gone 
 before me to Rome, to study law, and there he was 
 carried 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 divers of his acquaintances 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 also to turn my mind or my eyes to 
 those shows? I shall then be absent while pres- 
 ent, and so shall overcome both you and them." 
 They hearing this, led him on nevertheless, desirous 
 perchance to try that very thing, whether he could 
 do as he said. When they were come thither, and 
 had taken their places as they could, the whole place 
 kindled with that 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, over- 
 come by curiosity, and as if prepared to despise and 
 be superior to it whatsoever it were, even when seen,
 
 to love gladiatorial combats. 131 
 
 he opened his eyes, and was stricken with a deeper 
 wound in his soul, than the gladiator, whom he de- 
 sired 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 un- 
 locked 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 sav- 
 ageness ; nor turned away, but fixed his eye, drinking 
 in frenzy, unawares, and was delighted with that 
 guilty fight, and intoxicated with the bloody pastime. 
 Nor was he now the man he came, but one of the 
 throng he came unto, yea, a true associate of theirs 
 that brought him thither. Why say more ? He be- 
 held, shouted, kindled, carried thence with him the 
 madness which should goad him to return not only 
 with them who first drew him thither, but also before 
 them, yea, and to draw in others. Yet thence didst 
 Thou with a most strong and most merciful hand 
 pluck him, and taughtest him to have confidence not 
 in himself, but in Thee. But this was afterwards. 
 
 IX. 14. All this was being laid up in his memory 
 to be a medicine hereafter. So was this, also, that 
 when he was yet studying under me at Carthage, 
 and was thinking over at mid-day in the market- 
 place what he was to say by heart (:is scholars are 
 accustomed), Thou sufferedst him to be apprehended 
 by the officers of the market-place for a thief. For 
 no other cause I deem, didst Thou, our God, suffer
 
 132 God instructs beforehand 
 
 it, but that he, who was hereafter to prove so great a 
 man, should already begin to learn that, in judging 
 of causes, man is 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 law- 
 yer, the real thief, privily bringing a hatchet, got in, 
 unperceived by Alypius, as far as the leaden grat- 
 ings, which fence in the silversmiths' shops, and 
 began to cut away the lead. But the noise of the 
 hatchet being heard, the silversmiths beneath began 
 to make a stir, and -sent to apprehend whomever 
 they should find. But the thief 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 leaving, 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 noto- 
 rious thief, and so he was being led away to be taken 
 before the judge. 
 
 15. But thus far was Alypius to be instructed. 
 For forthwith, O Lord, Thou succoredst his inno- 
 cency, 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
 
 those whom He employs. 133 
 
 of the public buildings. Glad they were to meet 
 him especially, by whom they were wont to be sus- 
 pected of stealing the goods lost out of the market- 
 place, that they might show him at last by whom 
 these thefts were committed. He, however, had 
 frequently seen Alypius at a certain senator's house, 
 to whom he often went to pay his respects ; and re- 
 cognizing him immediately, he took him aside by the 
 hand, and inquiring the occasion of so great a calam- 
 ity, 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, showing 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 was transferred to that house, 
 and the multitude which had begun to insult over 
 Alypius, was ashamed ; and he who was to be a dis- 
 penser of Thy Word, and an examiner of many causes 
 in Thy Church, went away better experienced and 
 instructed. 
 
 X. 16. This Alypius I found at Rome, and he 
 clave to me by a 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
 
 134 Aly plus's unusual honesty. 
 
 thrice sat as assessor with an uncorruptness much 
 wondered at by others, he wondering at others, 
 rather, who could pi-efer gold to honesty. His char- 
 acter was tried, besides, not only with the bait of 
 covetousness, but with the goad of fear. At Rome 
 he was assessor to the Count o the Italian Treasury. 
 There was at that time a very powerful senator, to 
 whose favors many stood indebted, and whom many 
 much feared. He would needs do, by abuse of power, 
 what 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 friendship, nor feared the enmity 
 of one so great and so renowned for innumerable 
 means of doing good or evil. And the very judge 
 also, whose counsellor Alypius was, although unwill- 
 ing 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, however, 
 was he well-nigh seduced, namely, that he might 
 have books copied for him at the city's expense ; but 
 consulting justice, lie altered his deliberation for the 
 better; esteeming equity whereby he was hindered 
 more gainful than the power whereby he were al- 
 lowed. These are slight things, but he that is faith- 
 ful in little, is faithful also in much. 1 Xor can that 
 be void which proceeded out of the mouth of Thy 
 
 1 Luke xvi. 10.
 
 Augustine's longing after amendment. 135 
 
 Truth ; If ye have not been faithful in the unright- 
 eous Mammon, who icitt commit to your trust true 
 riches f And if ye have not been faithful in that 
 which is another man's, who shall give you that 
 which is your own? 1 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 lived some time, 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 diffi- 
 cult questions. Thus were there the mouths of three 
 indigent persons sighing out their wants one to an- 
 other, and waiting ttpon Thee that Thou mightest 
 give them their meat in due season. 2 And in all the 
 bitterness, which by Thy mercy followed our worldly 
 affairs, as we looked towards the end, and asked why 
 we should suffer all this, darkness met us; and we 
 turned away groaning, and saying, How long shall 
 these things be? This, too, we often said: and yet, 
 so saying, forsook not these worldly things ; for as 
 yet there dawned nothing certain which, we might 
 embrace in the place of them. 
 
 XI. 18. And I, viewing and reviewing 'things, 
 wondered extremely at the length of time that had 
 
 1 Lukexvi. 11, 12. 2 P 8 . cxlv. 15.
 
 136 A-ugustinds longing after amendment. 
 
 elapsed since my nineteenth year, when I first began 
 to kindle with the desire of wisdom, resolving when 
 I had found it to abandon all the empty hopes and 
 lying frenzies of vain desires. And lo ! I was now in 
 my thirtieth year, sticking in the same mire, greedy 
 of enjoying- present things, 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 ! Faustus the Manichee will come, and 
 clear up everything ! O you great men, ye Acade- 
 micians, it is true then that no certainty can be 
 -attained for the ordering of life ! Nay, let me search 
 the more diligently, and despair not. Lo ! things in 
 the ecclesiastical books are not absurd to me now, 
 which sometimes seemed absurd, and may be other- 
 wise taken, and in a good sense. I will take my 
 stand where, as a child, my parents placed me, until 
 the clear truth be found out. But where shall it be 
 sought, or when ? Ambrose has no leisure ; I have 
 no leisure to read ; where shall I find even the 
 books ? Whence, or when procure them ? from 
 whom borrow them? Let set times be appointed, 
 and certain hours ordered for the health of my soul. 
 Great hope has dawned ; the Catholic Faith teaches 
 not what I thought, and vainly accused it of; her in- 
 structed members hold it profane to believe God to 
 be bounded by the figure of a human body: and 
 shall I hesitate to 'knock,' that the rest 'may be 
 opened?' The forenoons my scholars take up ; what 
 do I during the rest of the day? Why not exam- 
 ine this subject? But when shall I pay court to my
 
 Augustine's perplexities and vacillations. 137 
 
 great friends, whose favor I need ? When compose 
 what I may sell to scholars? When refresh myself, 
 unbending my mind from this intenseness of care ? 
 
 19. Perish everything, dismiss these empty van- 
 ities, and betake myself to the one search for truth ! 
 Life is vain, death uncertain ; if it steals upon me on 
 a sudden, in what state shall I depart hence ? and 
 where shall I learn what here I have neglected? 
 and shall I not rather suffer the punishment of 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 things be by God 
 wrought for us, if with the death of the body the life 
 of the soul came to an end. Wherefore do I delay 
 then to abandon worldly hopes, and give myself 
 wholly to seek after God and the blessed life ? But 
 wait ! Worldly things are pleasant ; they have no 
 small sweetness. I must not lightly abandon them, 
 for it were a shame to return again to them. See, it 
 is no difficult matter now to obtain some station, and 
 then what more should I wish for ? I have store of 
 powerful friends ; if nothing else offer, and I be in 
 much haste, at least a presidentship 1 may be given 
 me: and a wife with some money, that she increase 
 not my charges : and this shall be the bound of my 
 desire. Many great men and most worthy of imita- 
 
 l The government of a province.
 
 138 lie is ignorant that God gives strength. 
 
 tion, have given themselves to the study of wisdom 
 in the state of marriage." 
 
 20. "While I went over these things, and these 
 winds shifted and drove my heart this way and that, 
 time passed on, but I delayed to turn to the Lord ; 
 and from day to day deferred to live in Thee, and so 
 died in myself. Loving a happy life, I feared to seek 
 it in its own true abode, and sought it by fleeing 
 from it. I thought I should be too miserable, unless 
 folded in female arms; and of the medicine of Thy 
 mercy to cure that infirmity I thought not, not hav- 
 ing tried it. As for continency, I supposed it must 
 be in our own power (though in myself I did not 
 find that power), being so foolish as not to know 
 what is written, None can be continent unless Tkou 
 give it; 1 and that Thou wouldest give it, if with 
 inward groanings I did knock at Thine ears, and 
 with a settled faith did cast my care on Thee. 
 
 XII. 21. Alypius indeed kept me from marrying ; 
 alleging, that in that case, we could not in undis- 
 tracted leisure live together in the search after wis- 
 dom, as we had long desired. He himself was even 
 then most chaste, so much so that it was wonderful ; 
 and all 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 married men, had cherished wisdom, and served 
 God acceptably, and retained their friends, and loved 
 
 1 Wisd. viii. 2. Vulg.
 
 Modes of life. 139 
 
 them faithfully. Of whose greatness of spirit I came 
 far short ; and bound with the disease of the flesh, 
 and its deadly sweetness, I drew along my chain, 
 dreading to be loosed, and as if my wound had been 
 fretted, put back his good persuasions, as it were the 
 hand of one that would unchain me. Moreover, by 
 me did the serpent speak unto Alypius himself, by 
 my tongue weaving and laying in his path pleasur- 
 able snares, wherein his virtuous and free feet might 
 be entangled. 
 
 22. For when he wondered that I, whom he es- 
 teemed not slightly, should stick so fast in the bird- 
 lime of that pleasure, as to protest (so oft as we 
 discussed it) that I could never lead a single life; 
 and urged in my defence, when I saw him wonder, 
 that there was a great difference between his momen- 
 tary and scarce-remembered knowledge of that life, 
 which so he might easily despise, and my continued 
 acquaintance with it, whereto if but the honorable 
 name of marriage were added, he ought not to won- 
 der why I could not contemn it ; he began also to 
 desire to be married, not as overcome with desire 
 of such pleasure, but out of curiosity. For he would 
 fain know, he said, what that should be, without 
 which my life, 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 make a covenant, with death; 1 and, 
 
 1 Is. xxviii. 15.
 
 1 40 Marriage. 
 
 he that loves danger shall fall into it. 1 For whatever 
 honor there be in the office of a well-ordered married 
 life and a family, moved us but slightly. The habit 
 of satisfying an insatiable appetite tormented me, 
 while it held me captive ; and an admiring wonder 
 was leading him captive. Thus were we, until Thou, 
 O Most High, not forsaking our dust, commiserating 
 us miserable, didst come to our help, by wondrous 
 and secret ways. 
 
 XIII. 23. Continual effort was made to have me 
 married. I wooed, I was promised, chiefly through 
 my mother's pains, that so once married, the health- 
 giving baptism might cleanse me, towards which she 
 rejoiced that I was becoming daily more disposed, 
 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 some- 
 thing concerning my future marriage; but Thou 
 never wouldest. She saw indeed certain vain and 
 fantastic 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 showedst her anything, but slight- 
 ing them. For she could, she said, through a certain 
 feeling, which in words she could not express, discern 
 betwixt Thy revelations, and the dreams of her own 
 soul. Yet the matter was pressed on, and a maiden 
 asked in marriage, two years under the fit age ; but, 
 as I liked her, I waited for her. 
 
 1 EccJus. iii. 27.
 
 Proposed recluse life. 141 
 
 XIV. 24. And many of us friends conferring 
 about, arid detesting the turbulent turmoils of hu- 
 man 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 procure, and make one 
 household of all ; so that through the truth of our 
 friendship 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 us were very lich, especially Romanianus, 
 our townsman, from childhood a very familiar friend 
 of mine, whom the grievous perplexities of his affairs 
 had brought up to court. He was the most earnest 
 for this project ; and his voice was of great weight, 
 because hLs 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 udisturbed. But when we began to con- 
 sider whether the wives, which some of us already 
 had, and others hoped to have, would allow this, all 
 that plan, which was being so well moulded, fell to 
 pieces in our hands, and was utterly dashed and cast 
 aside. Thence we betook us to sighs, and groans, 
 and to follow the broad and beaten ways of the 
 world. 1 Many were the thoughts in our heart, but 
 Thy counsel standeth forever? Out of which coun- 
 sel Thou didst deride ours, and preparedst Thine 
 own ; purposing to give us meat in due season, and 
 
 l Matt. vii. 13. 2 p s . xxxiii. 11. 
 
 12
 
 142 His inveterate sins. 
 
 to open Thy hand, and to Jill our souls with bless- 
 ing}- 
 
 XV. 25. Meanwhile my sins were multiplied, and 
 my concubine being torn from my side as a hin- 
 drance to my marriage, my heart, which clave unto 
 her, was torn and wounded and bleeding. And she 
 returned to Africa, vowing unto Thee never to know 
 any other man, leaving with me my son by her. But 
 unhappy I, who could not imitate a very woman, 
 impatient because not till after two years was I to 
 obtain my wife, and not being so much a lover of 
 marriage as a slave to lust, procured another concu- 
 bine, that so, by the servitude of an enduring custom, 
 the disease of my soul might be kept up and carried 
 on in its vigor, or even augmented, into the dominion 
 of marriage. Nor was my wound cured, which had 
 been made by the previous incision, but after inflam- 
 mation and most acute pain, it mortified, and then 
 my pains became less acute, but more desperate. 
 
 XVI. 26. Praise be to Thee, glory to Thee, O 
 Fountain of mercies. I was becoming more miser- 
 able, and Thou becoming nearer. Thy right hand 
 was continually ready to pluck me out of the mire, 
 and to wash me thoroughly, and I knew it not ; nor 
 did anything 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 dis- 
 putes with my friends, Alypius and Nebridius, con- 
 cerning the nature of good and evil, I held that 
 
 1 Ps. cilv. 15, 16.
 
 His inveterate sins. 143 
 
 Epicurus would have, in 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 per- 
 petual 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 which is seen only 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 with 
 my friends ; nor could I, even according to the no- 
 tions I then had of happiness, be happy without 
 friends, amid what abundance soever of carnal pleas- 
 ures. And yet these friends I loved for themselves 
 only, and I felt that I was beloved of them again for 
 
 O crooked paths! "Woe to the audacious soul, 
 which hoped, by forsaking Thee, to gain some better 
 thing ! Tossed up and down, upon back, sides, and 
 breast, it found only pain ; for Thou alone art rest. 
 And behold, Thou art at hand, and deliverest us 
 from our wretched wanderings, and placest us in Thy 
 way, and dost comfort us, and say, " Run ; I will 
 carry you; yea, I will bring you through; beyond 
 also will I carry you."
 
 < THE SEVENTH BOOK. 
 
 AUGUSTINE'S THIRTY-FIRST TEAK HE 18 GRADUALLY EXTRICATED 
 FROM HIS ERRORS, BCT STILL WITH MATERIAL CONCEPTIONS OF 
 GOD AIDED BY AN ARGUMENT OK KEBRIDIU8 SEES THAT THE 
 CAUSE OF SIN LIES IN FREE-WILL REJECTS THE MAMCU.CAN 
 HERESY, BUT CANJiOT 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 PLATO.MBT8 THE SEEDS OF THE DOCTRINE OF THE 
 DIVINITY OF THE WORD, BUT KOT OF HIS HUMILIATION HENCE 
 HE OBTAINS CLEARER NOTIONS OF GOD'S MAJESTY, BUT, NOT KNOW- 
 ING CHRIST TO BE THE MEDIATOR, REMAINS ESTRANGED FROM HIM 
 ALL HIS DOUBTS REMOVED BY THE HOLY SCRIPTURE, ESPECIALLY 
 ST. PAUL. 
 
 I. 1. My evil and abominable youth was now 
 ended, and I was passing into early manhood ; the 
 more defiled by vain things as I grew in years, for I 
 could not imagine any substance but such as is wont 
 to be seen with these eyes. I did not think of Thee, 
 O God, under the figure of an human body ; since I 
 began to hear aught of wisdom, I always avoided 
 this ; and rejoiced to have found the same in the 
 faith of our 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 in- 
 most soul believe that Thou art incorruptible, and 
 uninjurable, and unchangeable; because, though not 
 knowing whence or how, yet I saw plainly and was
 
 His thirty-first year. 145 
 
 sure that the corruptible must be inferior to the in- 
 corruptible ; what could not be injured, I preferred 
 unhesitatingly to what could receive injury; the un- 
 changeable, to things subject to change. My heart 
 passionately cried out against all phantoms, and with 
 one blow I sought to beat away from the eye of my 
 mind all that unclean troop which buzzed around it. 
 And lo ! being scarcely driven off, in the twinkling 
 of an eye they gathered again thick about me, flew 
 against my face, and beclouded it ; so that, though 
 not under the form of the human body, yet was I 
 constrained to conceive of Thee (that incorruptible, 
 uninjurable, and unchangeable, which I preferred 
 before the corruptible, and inj arable, and change- 
 able) as being in space, either infused into the world, 
 or diffused infinitely without it. Because, whatsoever 
 I conceived deprived of this space seemed to me 
 nothing, yea, altogether nothing ; not even a void, as 
 if a body were taken out of its place, and the place 
 should remain empty of any body at all, of earth and 
 water, air and heaven, yet would it remain a void 
 place, as it were a spacious nothing. 
 
 2. I then being thus gross-hearted, nor clear even 
 to myself, whatsoever was not extended over certain 
 spaces, nor diffused, nor condensed, nor swelled out, 
 or did not or could not receive some of these dimen- 
 sions, 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 sensuous sort, and yet the
 
 146 Inquiries about the Being of God, 
 
 mind could not have formed them, had not itself been 
 some great thing. So also did I endeavor 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 nowhere. For as the body of this air which 
 is above the earth hindereth not the light of the 
 pun 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 cre- 
 ated. So I guessed, only as unable to conceive 
 aught else, for it was false. For in that case, a 
 greater part of the earth would contain a greater 
 portion of Thee, and a less, a lesser : and all things 
 would be full of Thee, in such manner that the body 
 of an elephant would contain more of Thee than 
 that of a sparrow, since it is larger, and takes up 
 more room ; and thus Thou wouldest make the sev- 
 eral portions of Thyself present unto the several 
 portions of the world, in fragments, large to the 
 large, little to the little. But such art not Thou, 
 who hadst not as yet enlightened my darkness. 
 
 II. 3. It was enough for me, Lord, to oppose to 
 those deceived deceivers, and dumb praters, what
 
 Jlfrtnner of God's presence in tJie Universe. 147 
 
 Xebridius used to propound, while we were yet at 
 Carthage, at which all we that heard* it were stag- 
 gered : " That kingdom of darkness, which the Man- 
 ichees are wont to set as an opposing mass, over 
 against God, what could it have done unto God, had 
 He refused to fight with it ? For, if they answer, * it 
 would have done God some hurt,' then would God 
 be subject to injury and corruption : but if they an- 
 swer ' it could do God no hurt,' then there was no 
 reason why God should fight with it ; and fighting, 
 too, in such wise, as that a certain portion or mem- 
 ber of God, or offspring of His very Substance, 
 should be mingled w T ith opposed powers and na- 
 tures not created by God, 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 God's Substance was the soul, 
 which being enthralled, defiled, corrupted, the Divine 
 Word, free, pure, and whole, might relieve; that 
 Word Itself being also corruptible, because It was 
 of one and the same Substance. 1 So then, should 
 they affirm God, whatsoever He is (that is, the Sub- 
 stance whereby He is), to be incorruptible, then were 
 all these sayings false and execrable ; but if corrupt- 
 ible, the very statement showed it to be false and 
 revolting." This argument, then, of Xebridius suf- 
 ficed against those, who deserved wholly to be vom- 
 
 1 Compare the account of the Manichiran cosmogony, together with 
 that of the Basil idean and Valentinian Gnosticism, in Guericke's Church 
 History, H 46, 47, 64. ED.
 
 T7ie problem of evil. 
 
 ited out of the overcharged stomach ; for they had 
 no escape from horrible blasphemy of heart and 
 tongue, thus thinking and speaking of Thee. 
 
 III. 4. But although I held, and was firmly per- 
 suaded, that Thou our Lord the true God, who 
 madest not only our souls, but our bodies, and not 
 only our souls and bodies, but all beings, and all 
 things, art undefilable and unalterable, and in no 
 degree mutable, yet I understood not, clearly and 
 without difficulty, the cause of evil. And yet, what- 
 ever 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 
 the evil I was seeking to understand. I sought it 
 out, then, thus far free from anxiety, certain of the 
 untruth of what the Manichees held, from whom I 
 shrunk with my whole heart ; for I saw that, through 
 inquiring the origin of evil, they were filled with evil, 
 in that they preferred to think that Thy substance 
 did suffer ill than that their own did commit it. 
 
 5. And I strained to perceive what I now heard, 
 that freewill was the cause of our doing ill, and Thy 
 just judgment of our suffering ill. But I was not 
 able clearly to discern it. So, then, endeavoring to 
 draw my soul's vision out of that deep pit, I was 
 again plunged therein, and endeavoring often, I was 
 plunged back as often. But this raised me a little 
 into Thy light, so that I knew as well that I had a 
 will, as that I lived : when then I did will or nill 
 anything, I was most sure that no other than myself 
 did will and nill : and I all but saw that there was
 
 Tlie problem of evil. 149 
 
 the cause of my sin. But what I did against my 
 will, I saw that I suffered rather than did, and I 
 judged not to be my fault, but my punishment; 
 whereby, however, holding Thee to be just, I speed- 
 ily 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 plant of bitterness, seeing I was 
 wholly formed by my most sweet God ? If the devil 
 were the author, whence is that same devil ? And 
 if he also by his own perverse will, of a good angel 
 became a devil, whence, again, came in him that evil 
 will whereby he became a devil, 1 seeing the whole na- 
 ture of angels was made by that most good Creator? 
 By these thoughts I was again sunk down and choked ; 
 yet not brought down to that hell of error (where no 
 man confesseth unto Thee), to think rather that Thou 
 dost suffer ill, than that man doth it. 3 
 
 IV. 6. For I was striving to find out the rest, 
 having already found that the incorruptible must 
 needs be better than the corruptible : and whatso- 
 ever Thou wert, I confessed Thee to be incorrupt- 
 ible. For never soul was, nor shall be, able to 
 conceive anything which may be better than Thou, 
 who art the sovereign and the best good. But 
 since, most truly and certainly, the incorruptible is 
 
 1 The question : What is the efficient cause of an evil will? Augustine, 
 at a later day, affirmed to be inadmissible, because it involves a self-con- 
 tradiction. See De Civitate Dei, XII. 7. ED. 
 
 2 Ts. vi. 5.
 
 150 27ie problem of evil. 
 
 preferable to the corruptible (as I did now prefer 
 it), then if Thou wert not incorruptible, I could in 
 thought have arrived at something better than ray 
 God. "Where then I saw the incorruptible 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 constrained to do any- 
 thing, since Thy will is not greater than Thy power. But 
 greater should it be, were Thyself greater than Thy- 
 self. For the will and power of God, is God Him- 
 self. And what can be unlooked-for by Thee, w r ho 
 knowest all things? Nor is there any nature in 
 things, but Thou knowest it. And what more rea- 
 son should we give, " why that substance which God 
 is should not be corruptible," seeing if it were so, it 
 should not be God ? 
 
 V. 7. And I sought, " whence is evil," and sought 
 in an evil way; and saw not the evil in my very 
 search. I set now before the sight of my spirit the 
 whole creation, whatsoever we can see therein (as 
 sea, earth, air, stars, trees, mortal creatures), yea, and 
 whatever in it we do not see, as the firmament of 
 heaven, all angels moreover, and all the spiritual in- 
 habitants thereof. But these very beings, as though 
 they were bodies, did my fancy dispose each in its
 
 T. 'ie problem of evil. 151 
 
 own place, and I made one great mass of Thy crea- 
 tion, 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 fitting, yet every 
 way finite. But Thee, O Lord, I imagined on every 
 part environing and penetrating it, though every 
 way infinite : as if there were a sea, everywhere, and 
 on every side, through unmeasured space, one only 
 boundless sea, and it contained within it a sponge, 
 huge, but bounded ; that sponge must needs, in all 
 its parts, be filled from that immeasurable sea: so 
 conceived I Thy creation, itself finite, full of Thee, 
 the Infinite ; and I said, Behold God, and behold 
 what God hath created ; and God is good, yea, most 
 mightily and incomparably better than all these : but 
 yet He, the Good, created them good : and see how 
 He environs and full-fills 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 that evil which we fear 
 actually exists, or else our fear is evil. Whence is evil, 
 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 Cre- 
 ator and created, all are good. Whence, then, is evil ? 
 Was there some evil matter out of which He made,
 
 152 TJie problem of evil. 
 
 and formed, and ordered these lesser goods, yet left 
 something in this matter 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 He is All-mighty ? Lastly, why 
 would He make anything 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 so to be for infinite 
 spaces of times past, and was pleased so long after to 
 make something out of it ? Or, if He were suddenly 
 pleased now to effect somewhat, this rather should 
 the Almighty have effected, that this evil matter 
 should not be, and He alone be, the whole, true, 
 sovereign and infinite Good. Or, if it was not good 
 that He, who is good, should not also frame and 
 create something that were good, then, that evil 
 matter being taken away and brought to nothing, 
 He might form good matter, whereof to create all 
 things. For He would not be Almighty, 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, over- 
 charged with the most gnawing anxiety lest I should 
 die ere I had found the truth ; yet was the faith of 
 Thy Christ our Lord and Saviour, professed in the 
 Church Catholic, firmly fixed in my heart, in many 
 points, although yet unformed, and fluctuating from 
 the rule of doctrine ; yet my mind did not utterly 
 leave it, but rather daily took in more and more 
 of it.
 
 No faith to be placed in astrologers. 153 
 
 VI. 8. By this time, also, had I rejected the lying 
 divinations and impious dotages of the astrologers. 
 Let Thine own mercies, out of my very inmost soul, 
 confess unto Thee for this also, O my God. For 
 Thou, Thou altogether (for who else calls us back 
 from the death of all errors, save the Life which can- 
 not 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?) Thou madest provision for my obstinacy 
 wherewith I struggled against Vindicianus, 1 an acute 
 old man, and Nebridius, a young man of admirable 
 talents ; the first vehemently affirming, and the latter 
 often (though with some doubtfulness) saying, "That 
 there was no such art whereby to foresee things to 
 come, but that men's conjectures were a sort of lot- 
 tery, and that out of many things, which they said 
 should come to pass, some actually did, unawares to 
 them who spake it, who stumbled upon it, through 
 their oft speaking." Thou providest then a friend 
 for me, who was no negligent consulter of the astrol- 
 ogers ; nor yet was he well skilled in those astrolog- 
 ical arts, but (as I said) a curious consulter with 
 astrologers and yet knowing something, which he 
 said he had heard from his father, which how far it 
 went to overthrow the estimation of that art, he 
 knew not. This man then, Finninus by name, of 
 liberal education, and well taught . in Rhetoric, con- 
 sulted me, as one very dear to him, to know what, 
 according to his so-called constellations, I thought in 
 
 l See B. IV. c. iii.
 
 154 No faith to be placed in astrologers, 
 
 regard to certain affairs of his, wherein his worldly 
 hopes had risen ; and I, who had now begun to in- 
 cline towards Nebridius's opinion, did not altogether 
 refuse to conjecture, and tell him what carne into my 
 unresolved mind ; but added, that I was now almost 
 persuaded, that these were but empty and ridiculous 
 follies. Thereupon he told me that his father had 
 been very curious in such books, and had a friend as 
 earnest in them as himself, who with joint study and 
 conference fanned the flame of their affections to 
 these toys, so that they would observe the moments 
 whereat the very dumb animals which bred about 
 their houses gave birth, and then observed the rela- 
 tive position of the heavens, thereby to make fresh 
 experiments in this so-called art. He said then that 
 he had heard from his father, that when his mother 
 was about to give birth to him, Firminus, a woman- 
 servant of that friend of his father's was also with 
 child, a fact which could not escape her master, who 
 took care with most exact diligence to know the 
 
 O 
 
 births of his very puppies. And it so happened, that 
 while the one for his wife, and the other for his ser- 
 vant, with the most careful observation, was reckon- 
 ing days, hours, nay, the lesser divisions of the hours, 
 both women were delivered at the same instant ; so 
 that both were constrained to allow the same con- 
 stellations, even to the minutest points, the one for 
 his son, the other for his new-born slave. For so 
 soon as the women began to be in labor, each gave 
 notice to the other what was fallen out in their 
 houses, and had messengers ready to send to one
 
 Falsiiy of Astrology. 1 55 
 
 another, so soon as they had notice of the actual 
 birth, of which they had easily provided, each in 
 his own case, to receive instant intelligence. And 
 the messengers of the respective parties met, he aver- 
 red, at such an equal distance from either house, 
 that neither of them could make out any difference 
 in the position of the stars, or any other minutest 
 points ; and yet Firminus, born in a high estate in 
 his parents' house, ran his course through the gilded 
 paths of life, was increased in riches, raised to hon- 
 ors; whereas that slave continued to serve his mas- 
 ters, without any relaxation of his yoke, as Fir- 
 minus, who knew him, told me. 
 
 9. Upon hearing and believing these things, told 
 by one of such credibility, all my resistance gave 
 way; and first I endeavored to reclaim Firminus 
 himself from his hankering after astrology, by tell- 
 ing him that upon inspecting his constellations, I 
 ought, if I were to predict truly, to have seen in 
 them parents eminent among their neighbors, a noble 
 family in its own city, high birth, good education, lib- 
 eral learning. But if that servant had consulted me 
 upon the same constellations, since they were his 
 also, I ought again (if I would tell him, too, truly) 
 to see in them a lineage the most abject, a slavish 
 condition, and everything 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
 
 156 Falsity of Astrology. 
 
 truly, was spoken not out of art, but chance ; and 
 whatever spoken falsely, was not out of ignorance 
 in the ait, but the failure of the chance. 
 
 10. An opening thus made, ruminating with my- 
 self on the like things, that no one of those dotards 
 (who lived by such a trade, and whom I longed to 
 attack, and with derision to confute) might urge 
 against me, that Firminus had informed me falsely, 
 or his father him ; I bent my thoughts on those that 
 are born twins, who for the most part come out of 
 the womb so near one to other, that the small in- 
 terval (how much force soever in the nature of 
 things folk may pretend it to have) cannot be noted 
 by human observation, or be at all expressed in 
 those figures which the Astrologer is to inspect, 
 that he may pronounce truly. Yet they cannot be 
 true : for looking into the same figures, he must 
 have predicted the same of Esau and Jacob, where- 
 as the same happened not to them. Therefore he 
 must speak falsely ; or if truly, then, looking into 
 the same figures, he must not give the same answer. 
 Not by art, then, but by chance would he speak 
 truly. For Thou, O Lord, most righteous Ruler of 
 the Universe, while consulters and consulted know 
 it not, dost by Thy hidden inspiration effect that 
 the consulter should hear what according to the hid- 
 den deservings of souls, he ought to hear, out of the 
 abyss 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
 
 Still troubled by the problem of evil. 157 
 
 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 earned 
 away from the Faith whereby I believed Thee both 
 to be, and Thy substance to be unchangeable, and 
 that Thou hast a care of, and wouldest judge men, 
 and that in Christ, Thy Son, our Lord, and the holy 
 Scriptures, which the authority of Thy Catholic 
 Church pressed upon me, Thou hadst set the way 
 of man's salvation, to that life which is to be after 
 this death. These things being safe and immovably 
 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 vehemently sought, those silent contritions 
 of my soul were strong cries unto Thy mercy. Thou 
 knewest what I suffered, but no man knew. For 
 how insignificant was that which was through my 
 tongue distilled into the ears of my most familiar 
 friends? Could the whole tumult of my soul, for 
 which neither time nor utterance sufficed, reach 
 them? Yet went up the whole to Thy hearing, 
 all which I roared out from the groanings of my 
 heart ; and my desire was befere Thee, but the light 
 of mine eyes was not with me ;* for that was within, 
 I without : nor was that confined to space, but I was 
 intent on things contained in space, and in space I 
 found no resting-place ; nor did these visible things 
 so receive me, that I could say " It is enough," M it is 
 
 1 Ps. xxxvii. 911. Vulg. 
 13
 
 158 Assisted by the Platonists 
 
 well:" nor did they yet suffer me to turn back, 
 Avhere it might be well enough with me. For to 
 these things was I superior, but inferior to Thee; 
 and Thou art my true joy only when I am subjected 
 to Thee, and Thou subjectest to me only what Thou 
 hast created below me. And this was the true tem- 
 perament, 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 
 ayaiiist the Lord tcith my neck, icith the thick bosses 
 of my buckler, even these inferior things were set 
 above me, and pressed me down, and no where was 
 there respite or space of breathing. They met my 
 bight 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, " Whither goest thou, unworthy 
 and defiled?" And these things had grown out 
 of my wound ; for Thou " humblest the proud like 
 one that is wounded," 2 and through my own swell- 
 ing was I separated from Thee ; yea, my pride- 
 swollen face closed up mine eyes. 
 
 VIII. 12. But Thou, Lord, dbidest for ever, yet 
 not for ever art Thou angry with us ; z because 
 Thou pitiest our dust and ashes, and it was pleas- 
 ing in Thy sight to reform my deformities ; and by 
 inward goads didst Thou rouse me, that I should 
 be ill at ease, until Thou wert manifested to my 
 inward sight. Thus, by the secret hand of thy 
 medicining was my swelling abated, and the trou- 
 
 l Job xr. 26. 2 Ts. Ixxxviii. 11. Vulg. 3 p s . cii. 13.
 
 to recognize the Logos. 159 
 
 bled 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 resistest the proud, but givest grace unto the 
 humble? and by how great an act of Thy mercy 
 Thou hast traced out to men the way of humility, 
 in that Thy WOKD 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 therein I read, not indeed in the very 
 words, but to the very same purpose, enforced by 
 many and divers reasons, that In the beginning was 
 the Word, and the Word was with God, and the 
 Word was God: the Same was in the beginning with 
 God: all things were made by Him, and without 
 Sim was nothing made: that which was made by 
 Him is life, and the life was the light of men, and 
 the light shineth in the darkness, and the darkness 
 comprehended it not? And that the soul of man, 
 though it bears witness to the light, yet itself is not 
 that light but the Word of God, being God, is that 
 true light that lighteth every man that cometh into 
 the world? And that He was in the world, and the 
 world icas made by Him, and the world knew him 
 not.* But, that He came unto His oicn, and His 
 own received Him not / 5 but as many as received 
 Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of 
 
 1 James iv. 6. 1 Pet. v. 5. 3 John i. 9. 6 John i. 11. 
 
 2 John i. 1 5. < John i. 10.
 
 1 60 Comparison of Platonism with Scripture. 
 
 God, as many as believed in his name; 1 this I read 
 not there. 
 
 14. 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 icitt of the flesh, but of God? But 
 tli at the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, 3 
 I read not there. For I traced in those Platouic 
 books, that it was many and divers ways said that 
 the Son was in the form of the Father, and thought 
 it not robbery to be equal with God, for that naturally 
 Pie was the Same Substance. 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, 
 humbled Himself , and became obedient unto death, 
 and tJiat the death of the cross : wherefore God ex- 
 alted 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 Platonic 
 books have not. For that before all times and 
 above alj times Thy Only-Begotten Son remaineth 
 unchangeably, coeternal with Thee, and that of His 
 fulness souls receive, 5 that they may be blessed ; and 
 that by participation of wisdom abiding in them, 
 they are renewed, so as to be wise, is there. But 
 that in due time he died for the ungodly / 6 and that 
 Thou sparedst not Thine Only Son, but deliveredest 
 
 1 John i. 12. 3 John i. 14. 5 John i. 16. 
 
 2 John i. 13. < Phil. ii. 611. 6 Rom. v. 6.
 
 Inwardly taught by God. 161 
 
 Him for us all, 1 is not there. For Thou hiddest 
 these things from the wise, and revealedst them to 
 babes; that they that labor and are heavy laden, 
 might come unto Him, and He refresh them, because 
 He is meek and lowly in heart /* and the meek He 
 directeth in judgment, and the gentle He teachtth His 
 ways? beholding our lowliness and trouble, and for- 
 giving all our sins. 4 But such as are lifted up by 
 the buskin of some would-be sublimer learning, hear 
 not Him, saying, Learn of Me, for I am meek and 
 lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest to your souls. 5 
 Although they knoio God, yet they glorify Him not 
 as God, nor are thankful, but wax vain in their 
 thoughts ; and their foolish heart is darkened ; pro- 
 fessing that they are wise, they become fools? 
 
 15. And therefore did I read there also, that they 
 had changed the glory of Thy incorruptible nature 
 into idols and divers shapes, into thf likeness of the 
 image of corruptible man, and birds and beasts, and 
 creeping things / 7 hankering after that Egyptian 
 food, 8 for which Esau lost his birth-right, 9 since Thy 
 first-born people worshipped the head of a four- 
 footed beast instead of Thee, 10 turning back in heart 
 towards Egypt, and bowing Thy image, their own 
 soul, before the image of a calf that eateth hay. n 
 These things found I here, but I fed not on them. 
 For it pleased Thee, O Lord, to take away the re- 
 
 1 Rom. viii. 32. Matt, xi 29. 9 Gen. xxv. 33, 34. 
 
 2 Matt. xi. 25, 28, 29. G Rom. i. 21, 22. 10 Ex. xxxii. 16. 
 
 3 Ps. xxv. 9. 7 Rom. i 23. 11 Ps. cvi. 20. 
 
 * Ps. xxv. 18. 8 The lentil ; compare Augustine Enarrado in Ps. xlvi.
 
 162 Inwardly taught by God. 
 
 proach of diminution from Jacob, that the elder 
 should serve the younger: 1 and Thou callest the 
 Gentiles into Thine inheritance. And I had come 
 to Thee from among the Gentiles ; and I set my 
 mind upon the gold which Thou willedst Thy peo- 
 ple to take from Egypt, seeing Thine it was, where- 
 soever it were. 2 And to the Athenians Thou saidst 
 by Thy Apostle, that in Thee ice live, move, and 
 have our being, as one of their own poets had said. 3 
 And verily these Platonic books came from thence. 
 But I set not my mind on the idols of Egypt, whom 
 they served with Thy gold,* who changed the truth 
 of God into a lie, and worshipped and served the 
 creature more than the Creator. 5 
 
 X. 16. And being thence admonished" to return to 
 myself, I entered even into my inward self, Thou 
 being my Guide : and I was able to do so because 
 Thou wert became my Helper. And I entered and 
 beheld with the eye of my soul, (such as it was,) 
 even above 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 different, far 
 different from all these. Nor was it above my soul, 
 as oil is above water, nor yet as heaven above earth : 
 but above my soul, because It made me ; and I 
 below It, because I was made by It. He that knows 
 
 1 Rom ix 13. 3 Acts xvii. 28. Eom. i. 25. 
 
 ! Exod. iii. 22 . xi. 2. 4 Hoa ii 8.
 
 Contemplation of God. 163 
 
 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. When I first knew 
 Thee, Thou liftedst me up, that I might see there 
 was somewhat for me to see, and that I was not yet 
 able to see. And Thou didst beat back the weak- 
 ness 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." And I 
 learned, that Tfiou for iniquity chastenest man, 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, I AM 
 that I AM?* And I heard, as the heart heareth, 
 nor had I room to doubt, and I should sooner doubt 
 that I live, than that Truth is not, which is clearly 
 seen^ being understood by those things which are 
 made? 
 
 XI. 17. And I beheld the other things below 
 Thee, and I 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 
 
 l Ps. xxxix. 11. 2 Exod. iii. 14. 3 R O m. i. 20.
 
 164 Evil not a substance. 
 
 what Thou art. For that truly is which remains 
 unchangeably. It is good then for me to hold fast 
 unto God y 1 for if I remain not in Him, I cannot in 
 myself; but He remaining in Himself, reneweth all 
 things? And Thou art the Lord my God, since 
 Thou standest not in need of my goodness? 
 
 XII. 18. And it was manifested unto me, that 
 those things are good which yet are corruptible ; 
 which if they were sovereignly good, or if they were 
 not at all good, could not be corrupted : for if sover- 
 eignly good, they were incorruptible; if not good 
 at all, there were nothing in them to be corrupted. 
 For corruption injures, but unless it diminished good- 
 ness, it could not injure. Either then corruption in- 
 jures not, which cannot be ; or, which is most cer- 
 tain, all which is corrupted is deprived of good. 
 But if they be deprived of all good, they shall cease 
 to be. For if they shall be, and can now no longer 
 be corrupted, they shall be better than before, be- 
 cause 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, they are good : 
 therefore whatsoever substantially is, is good. That 
 evil then which I sought to know 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 corruptible sub- 
 stance ; which unless it were good, could not be cor- 
 
 1 Ps. Ixxiii. 28. 2 Wisd. vii. 27. ' 3 Ps. xvi. 1.
 
 All things praise God,. 165 
 
 rupted. 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 because Thou madest not all things equal, there- 
 fore is there a diversity of things ; for each is good, 
 and all together are very good, because our God 
 made all things very good. 1 
 
 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. But in the parts thereof, some 
 things, because unharmonizing with other some, are 
 accounted evil: whereas those very things harmo- 
 nize with others, and are good; and in themselves 
 are good. And all these things which harmonize 
 not together, do yet harmonize with the inferior part, 
 which we call Earth, which has its own cloudy and 
 windy sky harmonizing with it. Far be it then that 
 I should say, " These things should not be : " for 
 should I see nought but these, I should long for 
 the better; but still I must even for these alone 
 praise Thee; for that Thou art to be praised do 
 shew from the earth, dragons, and all deeps, fire, 
 hail, snow, ice, and stormy wind, which fulfil T/ty 
 word. Mountains, and all hills, fruitful trees, and 
 all cedars, beasts, and all cattle, creeping things, and 
 flying fowls, kings of the earth, and all people, 
 princes and all judges of the earth, young men and 
 maidens, old men and young, praise Thy Name. 
 
 1 Gen. i. 31; Eccli. \.\\i\.
 
 1C6 - All things praise God, 
 
 But when from heaven Thy works praise Thee, our 
 God, all Thy angels in the heights, all Thy hosts, sun 
 and moon, all the stars and light, the Heaven of 
 heavens, and the waters that be above the heavens, 
 praise Thy Name. 1 I did not now long for things 
 better, because I thought of all : and with a sounder 
 judgment I apprehended that the things above were 
 better than these below, yet that all together were 
 better than those above by themselves. 
 
 XIV. 20. There is no soundness in them, whom 
 aught of Thy creation displeaseth : as neither in me, 
 when much which Thou hast made displeased me. 
 And because my soul durst not be displeased at 
 my God, it would fain not account that to be Thine, 
 which displeased it. Hence it had gone into the 
 opinion of two substances, and had "no rest, but 
 talked idly. And returning thence, it had made to 
 itself a God through infinite measures of all space ; 
 and thought it to be Thee, and placed it in its 
 heart ; and had again become the temple of its own 
 idol, to Thee abominable. But after Thou hadst 
 soothed my head, unknown to me, and closed mine 
 eyes that they should not behold vanity, 2 I ceased 
 somewhat of my former self, and my frenzy was 
 lulled to sleep ; and I awoke in Thee, and saw 
 Thee infinite, but in another way, and this sight 
 was not derived from the flesh. 
 
 XV. 21. And I looked back on other things; and 
 I saw that they owed their being to Thee ; and 
 were all bounded in Thee : but in a different way, 
 
 l Ps. cxlviii. 112. 2 Pa. cxix. 37.
 
 and are contained in God. 1 67 
 
 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 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 eye is 
 delightful. And Thy righteousness displeaseth the 
 wicked ; much more the viper and reptiles, which 
 Thou hast created good, fitting in with the infe- 
 rior portions of Thy Creation, with which the very 
 wicked also fit in ; and that the more, by how much 
 they be unlike Thee ; but with the superior crea- 
 tures, by how much they become more like to Thee. 
 And I 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, to- 
 wards these lower things, and casting out its bowels, 
 and puffed up outwardly. 
 
 XVII. 23. And I wondered that I now loved 
 Thee, and no phantasm for Thee. And yet did I 
 not press on to enjoy my God ; but was borne up 
 to Thee by Thy beauty, and soon borne down from
 
 1 68 Augustine's psychology. 
 
 Thee by mine own weight, sinking with sorrow into 
 infeiior 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 : because the body which is cor- 
 rupted, presseth down the soul, and the earthly tab- 
 ernacle weigheth down the mind that museth upon 
 many things* And most certain I was, that Thy 
 invisible works from the creation of the world are 
 clearly seen, being understood by the things that are 
 made, even Thy eternal power and Godhead? For 
 examining whence it was that I admired the beauty 
 of bodies celestial or terrestrial ; and what aided 
 me in judging soundly on things mutable, and pro- 
 nouncing, " This ought to be thus, this not ; " exam- 
 ining, I say, whence it was that I so judged, seeing 
 I did so judge, I had found the unchangeable and 
 true Eternity of Truth, above my changeable mind. 
 And thus by degrees, I passed from bodies to the 
 soul which through the bodily senses perceives ; and 
 thence to its inward faculty, to which the bodily 
 senses represent things external, whitherto reaches 
 the faculties of beasts; and thence again to the 
 reasoning faculty, to which what is received from 
 the senses of the body is referred to be judged. 
 Which finding itself also to be in me a thing varia- 
 ble, raised itself up to its own understanding, and 
 drew away my thoughts from the power of habit, 
 withdrawing itself from those troops of contradic- 
 
 i Wisd ix. 15. 2 Rom. i. 20.
 
 Ills dim apprehension of the Logos. 1G9 
 
 tory phantasms ; that so it might find what that 
 light was, whereby it was bedewed, when, without 
 all doubting, it cried out, "That the unchangeable 
 was to be preferred to the changeable ; " whence 
 also it knew That Unchangeable, which, unless it 
 had in some way known, it had had no sure ground 
 to prefer it to the changeable. And thus with the 
 flash of one trembling glance it arrived at THAT 
 WHICH Is. And then I saw Thy invisible things 
 understood by the things which are made. 1 But I 
 could not fix my gaze thereon; and my infirmity 
 being struck back, I was thrown again on my wonted 
 habits, carrying along with me only a loving mem- 
 ory thereof, and a longing for what I had, as it were, 
 perceived the odor 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 that Mediator betwixt God and* 
 men, the Man Christ Jesus? who is over all, God 
 blessed for evermore? calling unto me, and saying, I 
 am the way, the truth, and the life, 4 and mingling 
 that food which I was unable to receive, with our 
 flesh, for, the Word was made flesh, 5 that Thy 
 Wisdom, whereby Thou createdst all things, might 
 provide milk for our infant state. For not being 
 humbled, I did not understand the humiliation of 
 my Lord Jesus Christ ; nor knew I yet whereto His 
 infirmity would guide us. For Thy Word, the Eter- 
 
 1 Rom. i. 20. 3 Rom. ix. 5. Ib. i. 14. 
 
 2 1 Tim ii. 5. 4 John xiv. 6.
 
 170 Learns to understand 
 
 nal Truth, being fur above Thy highest creatures, 
 raises up the subdued unto Itself: but in this lower 
 world It built for Itself a lowly habitation of our 
 clay, whereby to abase from themselves such a& 
 would be subdued, and bring them over to Itself; 
 allaying their swelling pride, and fomenting their 
 love ; that they might go on no further in self-con- 
 fidence, but rather consent to become weak, on see- 
 ing at their feet the Divinity infirm by having taken 
 on our coats of skin- l and wearied, might cast them- 
 selves down upon It, and It rising, might lift them 
 up. 
 
 XIX. 25. But I thought otherwise ; conceiving 
 only of my Lord Christ as of a man of excellent 
 wisdom, whom no one could be equalled unto ; espe- 
 cially, for that being wonderfully born of a Virgin, 
 He seemed, in conformity therewith, through the 
 Divine care for us, to have attained that great emi- 
 nence of authority, for an ensample of despising 
 things temporal for the obtaining of immortality. 
 But what mystery there lay in, "The Word teas 
 made flesh" I could not even imagine. Only I had 
 learnt out of what is delivered to us in Scripture 
 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 unchangeableness of Thy TVord, 
 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 af- 
 
 l Gen. iii 21.
 
 the Person of Christ. 171 
 
 faction, now not, now to deliver wise sayings through 
 human signs, now to keep silence, belong to soul and 
 mind subject to variation. And should these things 
 prove to be falsely written of Him, all the rest of 
 Scripture also would be put in jeopardy, nor would 
 there remain in those books any saving faith for 
 mankind. Since then they were written truly, I 
 acknowledged a perfect man to be in Christ ; not 
 the body of a man only, nor, with the body, a sensi- 
 tive soul without a rational, but very man ; whom, 
 not only as being a form of Truth, but for a certain 
 great excellency of human nature and more perfect 
 participation of wisdom, I judged to be preferred 
 before others. But Alypius imagined the Catholics 
 to believe God to be so clothed with flesh, that be- 
 sides 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 per- 
 suaded, that the actions recorded of Him, could 
 only be performed by a vital and a rational crea- 
 ture, he moved the more slowly towards the Chris- 
 tian Faith. But understanding afterwards, that this 
 was the error of the Apollinarian heretics, he joyed 
 in and was conformed to the Catholic Faith. But 
 somewhat later, I confess, did I learn, how in that 
 saying, The Word was made flesh, the Catholic 
 truth is distinguished from the falsehood of Pho- 
 tinus. 1 For the rejection of heretics makes the te- 
 nets of Thy Church, and sound doctrines, to stand 
 out more clearly. For there must also be heresies, 
 
 1 Guericke'g Church History, 84.
 
 172 Receives great assistance 
 
 that the approved may be made manifest among the 
 weak. 1 
 
 XX. 26. But having then read those books of the 
 Platonists, and thence been taught to search for in- 
 corporeal truth, I saw Thy invisible things, under- 
 stood 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 con- 
 templating, being assured " that Thou art, and art 
 infinite, and yet not diffused in space, finite or infi- 
 nite; and that Thou truly art who art the same 
 ever, in no part nor motion varying ; and that all 
 other things are from Thee, on this most sure ground 
 alone, that they are." Of these things I was assured, 
 yet too unsure to enjoy Thee. I prated as one well 
 skilled ; but had I not sought Thy way in Christ our 
 Saviour, I had proved to be, not skilled, but killed. 
 For now I had begun to wish to seem wise, being 
 filled with mine own 'punishment, yet I did not 
 mourn, but rather scorn, puffed up with knowl- 
 edge. 3 For where was that charity building upon 
 the foundation of humility, which is Christ Jesus?* 
 or when should these Platonic books teach me it? 
 Upon these, I believe, Thou therefore willedst that 
 I should fall, before I studied Thy Scriptures, that 
 it might be imprinted on my memory how I was 
 affected by them ; and that afterwards, when my 
 spirits were tamed through Thy books, and my 
 wounds touched by Thy healing fingers, I might 
 
 1 1 Cor. xi 19. 3 1 Cor. viii. 1. 
 
 2 Eom. i. 20. <1 Cor. iii. 11.
 
 from the writings of St. Paul. 173 
 
 discern and distinguish between presumption and 
 confession ; between those who saw whither they 
 were to go, yet saw not the way, a way that lead- 
 eth not merely to behold the beatific country, but to 
 dwell in it. For, had I first been formed in. Thy 
 Holy Scriptures, and hadst Thou in the familiar use 
 of them grown sweet unto me, and had I then 
 fallen upon those other volumes, they might per- 
 haps have withdrawn me from the solid ground of 
 piety ; or, had I continued in that healthful frame 
 which I had thence imbibed, I might have thought 
 that it might have been obtained by the study of 
 the Platonic books alone. 
 
 XXI. 27. Most eagerly, then, did I seize that 
 venerable writing of Thy Spirit, and chiefly the 
 Apostle Paul ; whereupon those difficulties vanished 
 away wherein he once seemed to me to contradict 
 himself, and the text of his discourse not to agree 
 with the testimonies of the Law and the Prophets. 
 And the face of that pure word appeared to me one 
 and the same ; and I learned to rejoice with trem- 
 bling* So I began ; and whatsoever truth I had 
 read in those other books, I found here amid the 
 praises of Thy grace ; that whoso sees, may not so 
 glory as if he had not received? not only what he 
 sees, but also that he sees (for what hath he, which 
 he hath not received?), and that he may be not only 
 admonished to behold Thee, Who art ever the same, 
 but also, being healed, to hftld Thee ; and that he 
 who cannot see afar off, may yet walk on the way, 
 
 l Ps. ii. 11. 2 1 Cor. iv. 7. 
 
 14
 
 174 Plato's writings and 
 
 whereby he may arrive, and behold, and hold Thee. 
 For, though a man be delighted with the law of God 
 after the inner man? what shall he do with that 
 other law in his members which icarreth against the 
 law of his mind, and bringeth him into captivity to 
 the law of sin which is in his members? 2 For Thou 
 art righteous, Lord ; but we have sinned, and com- 
 mitted iniquity, and have done wickedly? and Thy 
 hand is grown heavy upon us, and we are justly de- 
 livered over unto that ancient sinner, the king of 
 death ; because he persuaded our will to be like his 
 will, whereby he abode not in Thy truth. What 
 shaU wretched man do f who shall deliver him from 
 the body of this death, but only Thy grace, through 
 Jesus Christ our Lord* whom Thou hast begotten 
 coeternal, and formedst in the beginning of Thy 
 ways? in whom the prince of this world found noth- 
 ing worthy of death? yet killed he Him ; and the 
 handwriting, ichich icas contrary to us, was blot- 
 ted out? 7 This the Platonic writings contain not. 
 Those pages present not the image of this piety, the 
 tears of confession, Thy sacrifice, a troubled spirit, a 
 broken and a contrite heart, 9 the salvation of the 
 people, the Bridal City? the earnest of the Holy 
 
 Ghost? the Cup of our Redemption. 11 No man 
 sings there, Shall not my soul be submitted unto 
 
 God? for of Him cometh my salvation. For He is 
 
 1 Rom. vii. 22. Prov. viii. 22. 8 Ts. li. 17. 
 
 2 Rom. vii. 23. e^Jphn xiv. 30. 9 Rev. xxi. 2. 
 
 3 Song of the Three Children, 4 sqq. 10 2 Cor. v. 5. 
 < Bom. vii. 24. "> Col. ii. 14. 11 Ps. cxvi. U
 
 the Scriptures. 175 
 
 my God and my salvation, my guardian, I shall no 
 more be moved. 1 No one hears Him call in those 
 books, Come unto Me all ye that labor? They scorn 
 to learn of Him, because He is meek and lowly in 
 heart ; for these things hast Thou hid from the wise 
 and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes? 
 For it is one thing, from the mountain's shaggy top 
 to see the land of peace, and to find no way thither, 4 
 and in vain to strive towards it through paths im- 
 passable, opposed and beset by fugitives and desert- 
 ers led by their captain the lion and the dragon; and 
 quite another thing to keep on the way that leads 
 thither, guarded by the hosts of the heavenly Gen- 
 eral, where those who have deserted the heavenly 
 army spoil and rob not, for they avoid that army 
 as very torment itself. These things did wonder- 
 fully sink into my heart, when I read that least of 
 Tliy Apostles, 6 and meditated upon Thy works, and 
 trembled exceedingly. 
 
 1 PB. Ixii. 1, 2. 3 Matt xi. 29. 6 I Cor. xv. . 
 
 2 Matt. xi. 28. 4 Dmt . xxxii. 49.
 
 THE EIGHTH BOOK. 
 
 AUGUSTINE'S THIRTY-SECOND YEA HE CONSULTS SIMPLICIANUS 
 FROM HIM HE HEARS THE HISTORY OF THE CONVERSION OF VICTO- 
 RINU8, AND LONGS TO DEVOTE HIMSELF ENTIRELY TO GOD, BUT IS 
 HASTERED BY HIS OLD HABITS IS STILL FURTHER ROUSED BY THB 
 HISTORY OF ANTONY, AND THE CONVERSION OF TWO COURTIERS 
 
 DURING A SEVERE STRUGGLE, HEARS A' VOICE FROM HEAVEN, 
 OPENS SCRIPTURE, AND IS CONVERTED, WITH HIS FRIEND ALYP- 
 IUS HIS MOTHER'S VISION FULFILLED. 
 
 I. O my God ! let me, with thanksgiving, remem- 
 ber, and confess unto Thee Thy mercies to me. Let 
 my bones be bedewed with Thy love, and let them 
 say unto Thee, Who is like unto Thee, O Lord? 1 
 Thou hast broken my bonds in sunder, I will offer 
 unto Thee the sacrifice of thanksgiving? And how 
 Thou hast broken them, I will declare; and all who 
 worship Thee, when they hear this, shall say, "Bles- 
 sed be the Lord, in heaven and in earth, great and 
 wonderful is his name." Thy words had stuck fast 
 in my heart, and I was hedged round about on all 
 sides by Thee. 3 Of Thy eternal life I was now cer- 
 tain, though I saw it in a figure and as through a 
 glass.* Yet I had ceased to doubt that there was 
 an incorruptible substance, whence was all other sub- 
 stance ; nor did I now desire to be more certain of 
 Thee, but more steadfast in Thee. As for my tem- 
 
 1 Ts. xxxv. 10. 3 Job. i. 10. 
 
 2 Ps. cxvi. 16, 17. 4 1 Cor. xiii. 12.
 
 Visits SimpUcianus. 177 
 
 poral life, all was wavering, and my heart had to be 
 purged from the old leaven. 1 The Way? the Saviour 
 Himself, well pleased me, but as yet I shrunk from 
 going through its straitness. And Thou didst put 
 into my mind, and it seemed good in my eyes, to go 
 to Simplicianus, who seemed to me a good servant 
 of Thine; and Thy grace shone in Him. I had 
 heard also, that from his very youth he had lived 
 most devoted unto Thee. Now he was grown into 
 years ; and by reason of so great age spent in such 
 zealous following of Thy ways, he seemed to me 
 likely to have learned much experience ; and so he 
 had. Out of which store, I 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 honor 
 and profit, a very grievous burden it was to undergo 
 so heavy a bondage. For, in comparison of Thy 
 sweetness, and the beauty of Tfiy house which I 
 loved? those things delighted me no longer. But 
 still I was enthralled with the love of woman ; nor 
 did the Apostle forbid me to marry, although he 
 advised me to something better, chiefly wishing that 
 all men were as himself icas* But I, being weak, 
 chose the more indulgent place ; and because of this 
 
 1 1 Cor. v. 7. 3 Ts. xxvi. 8. 
 
 2 John xiv. 6. 41 Cor. Mi. 8.
 
 178 Augustine's distractions. 
 
 alone, was tossed up and down in all beside, faint 
 and wasted with withering cares, because in other 
 matters I was constrained against ray will to con- 
 form myseff to a married life, to which I was given 
 up and enthralled. I had heard from the mouth of 
 the Truth, that there were some eunuchs, ichich had 
 made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of hea- 
 ven's sake: but, saith He, let- him who can receive 
 it receive it. 1 Surely vain are all men who are ig- 
 norant 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 surmounted it ; 
 and by the common witness 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 of ungodly, who knowing God glori- 
 fied Him not as God, neither were thankful? Into 
 this also had I fallen, but Thy right hand upheld 
 me,* and took me thence, and Thou placedst me 
 where I might recover. For Thou hast said unto 
 man, Behold, the fear of the Lord is wisdom,* and 
 Desire not to seem wise / 6 because they who affirmed 
 themselves to be wise, became fools. 7 But I had now 
 found the goodly pearl, which, selling all that I had? 
 I ought to have bought, and I hesitated. 
 
 II. 3. To Simplicianus then I went, the spiritual 
 father of Ambrose (a Bishop now), and whom Am- 
 brose truly loved as a father. To him I related the 
 
 1 Matt. xlx. 12. 4 Ps. xviii. 85. 7 Rom. i. 22. 
 
 2 Wisd. xlU. 1. Job xxviii. 28. 8 Matt. xiii. 46. 
 8 Rom. i. 21. 6 Prov. iii. 7.
 
 TJie conversion of Victorinus. 179 
 
 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 philoso- 
 phers, full of fallacies and deceits, after the rudi- 
 ments of this world, 1 whereas the Platonists many 
 ways led to the belief in God and Plis Word. Then 
 to exhort me to the humility of Christ, hidden from 
 the wise, and revealed to little ones, 2 he spoke of Vic- 
 torinus himself, whom, while at Rome, he had most 
 intimately known : and of him he related what I 
 will not conceal. For it contains great praise of 
 Thy grace, to be confessed unto Thee, how that 
 aged man, most learned and skilled in the liberal 
 sciences, and who had read and weighed so many 
 works of the philosophers; the instructor of so 
 many noble Senators ; who also, as a monument of 
 his excellent discharge of his office, had (which men 
 of this world esteem a high honor) both deserved 
 and obtained a statue in the Roman Forum ; he, to 
 that time of life a worshipper of idols, and a par- 
 taker of the sacrilegious rites, to which almost all 
 the nobility of Rome were given up, and which 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 : 
 
 whom Rome had once conquered, and now adored, 
 l Col. ii. 8. 2 Matt xi. 25.
 
 180 The conversion 
 
 all which the aged Victorinus had with thunder- 
 ing 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 humility, and subduing his forehead 
 to the reproach of the Cross. 
 
 4. O Lord, Lord, Which hast bmced the heavens 
 and come doicn, touched the mountains and they did 
 smoke, 1 by what means didst Thou convey Thyself 
 into that breast ? He used to read (as Simplicianus 
 said) the holy Scripture, most studiously 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 Chris- 
 tian." Whereto Simplicianus answered, "I will not 
 believe it, nor will I rank you among Christians, un- 
 less I see you in the Church of Christ." The other, 
 in banter, replied, "Do walls then make Christians?" 
 And this he often said, that he was already a Chris- 
 tian; and Simplicianus as often made the same an- 
 swer, and the conceit of the "walls" was by the 
 other as often renewed. For he feared to offend his 
 friends, proud daemon-worshippers ; from the height 
 of whose Babylonian dignity, as from cedars of Liba- 
 nus? which the Lord had not yet broken down, he 
 supposed the weight of enmity would fall upon him. 
 But after that by reading and earnest thought he 
 had gathered firmness, and feared to be denied by 
 Christ before the holy angels, should he now be afraid 
 to confess Him before men? and appeared to him- 
 
 1 Fs. cxlir. 6. Ps. xxix. 8. s Luke ix. 26.
 
 of Victorinus. 181 
 
 self guilty of a heavy offence, in being ashamed 
 of the Sacraments of Thy lowly Word and not 
 ashamed of the sacrilegious rites of those proud dae- 
 mons, whose pride he had imitated and their rites 
 adopted, he became bold-faced against vanity, and 
 shame-faced towards the truth, and suddenly and 
 unexpectedly said to Simplicianus (as himself told 
 me), " Go we 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 rejoicing. The proud saw, and were wroth; 
 they gnashed with their teeth, and melted away. 1 
 But the Lord God was the hope of Thy servant, 
 and he regarded not vanities and lying madness. 2 
 
 5. To conclude : when the hour was come for mak- 
 ing profession of his faith (which profession at Rome 
 they who are about to approach to Thy grace de- 
 liver, from an elevated place, in the sight of all the 
 faithful, in a set form of words committed to mem- 
 ory), the presbyters, he said, offered Victorinus (as 
 was done to such as seemed likely through bashful- 
 ness to be alarmed) to make his profession more 
 privately; but he chose rather to profess his salva- 
 tion in the presence of the holy multitude. " For it 
 was not salvation that he taught in rhetoric, and 
 yet that he had publicly professed : how much less 
 then ought he, when pronouncing Thy word, to 
 
 l Ps. cxii 10. 2 Ps. xxxi. 6, 40, etc
 
 182 God's goodness 
 
 fear 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 ! 
 Yictorinus ! Sudden was the burst of rapture, that 
 they saw him ; suddenly were they hushed that they 
 might hear him. He pronounced the true faith with 
 an 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. 
 
 III. 6. Good God ! what takes place in man, that 
 he should more rejoice at the salvation of a soul 
 despaired of, and freed from greater peril, than if 
 there had always been hope of him, or the danger 
 had been less ? For so Thou also, merciful Father, 
 dost more rejoice over one penitent, than over ninety- 
 nine just persons, that need no repentance. 1 And 
 with much joyfulness do we hear, so often as we 
 hear with what joy the sheep which has strayed is 
 brought back upon the shepherd 's shoulder, and. the 
 groat is restored to Thy treasury, the neighbors re- 
 joicing with the woman icho found it ;* and the joy 
 of the solemn service of Thy house forceth to tears, 
 when in Thy house it is read of Thy younger son, 
 that he was dead and liveth again; had been lost, 
 and is found. For Thou rejoicest in us, and in Thy 
 holy angels, holy through holy charity. For Thou 
 
 1 Luke xv. 7 2 Luke xv. 5 9
 
 towards penitents. 183 
 
 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 hereunto; and all things are 
 full of witnesses, crying out, " So is it." The con- 
 quering 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 sail- 
 ors, threatens shipwreck ; all wax pale at approach- 
 ing 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 men acquire by difficul- 
 ties, not those only which fall upon us unlocked for, 
 and against our wills, but even by self-chosen, and 
 pleasure-seeking trouble. Eating and drinking have 
 no pleasure, unless there precede the pinching of 
 hunger and thirst. Men, given to drink, eat certain 
 salt meats to procure a troublesome heat, which, the 
 drink allaying, causes pleasure. It is also ordered 
 that the affianced bride should not at once be given, 
 lest as a husband he should hold cheap her whom, as 
 betrothed, he sighed not after.
 
 184 God's goodness towards penitents. 
 
 8. This law holds in foul and accursed joy ; in per- 
 mitted and lawful joy ; in the very purest perfection 
 of friendship ; in him who was dead, and lived again*, 
 had been lost and was found. Everywhere the 
 greater joy is ushered in by the greater pain. What 
 means this, O Lord my God,, whereas Thou art ever- 
 lastingly 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 earth, 
 from the beginning of the world to the end of ages, 
 from the angel to the worm, from the first motion to 
 the last, Thou settest each in its place, and realizest 
 each in their season, every thing good after its kind ? 
 Woe is me ! how high art Thou in the highest, and 
 
 O O " 
 
 how deep in the deepest ! and Thou never departcst 
 from us, and we scarcely return to Thee. 
 
 IV. 9. Up, Lord, and do; stir us up, and recall 
 us ; kindle and draw us ; inflame, grow sweet unto 
 us ; let us now love, let us run. 1 Do not many, out 
 of a deeper hell of blindness than Victorinus, return 
 to Thee, approach, and are enlightened, receiving 
 that Light, which they who receive, receive power 
 from Thee to become Thy sons f 3 But if they hap- 
 pen to be less known to the people, even those that 
 do know them rejoice less for them in conversion. 
 For when many rejoice together, each also has 
 more exuberant joy ; for that they are kindled and 
 
 1 Cant i. 4. 2 John i. 12.
 
 God^s goodness towards penitents. 185 
 
 inflamed one by the other. Again, because those 
 that are widely known influence many more towards 
 salvation, and lead the way with many to follow ; 
 therefore do they also who preceded these widely 
 known persons 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 ; see- 
 ing rather that Thou hast chosen the weak things 
 of the world, to confound the strong ; and the base 
 things of this world, and the things despised hast 
 Thou chosen, and those things which are not, that 
 Thou mightest bring to nought things that are. 1 
 And yet even that least of Thy apostles? by 
 whose tongue Thou soundest 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 provincial of the 
 great King, he also for his former name Saul, was 
 pleased to be called Paul, in testimony of so great a 
 victory. For the enemy is more overcome in one, 
 of whom he hath more hold, and 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 Yictorinus was esteemed, which 
 the devil had held as an impregnable possession ; and 
 the tongue oT Victorinus, with which mighty and 
 keen weapon he had slain many ; by so much the 
 more abundantly ought Thy sons to rejoice, for that 
 
 l 1 Cor. i. 27, 28. 21 Cor. xv. 9.
 
 18G Encouraged by the example 
 
 our King hath bound the strong man? and they saw 
 his vessels taken from him and cleansed, and made 
 meet for Thy honor* and become serviceable for the 
 Lord, unto every good work? 
 
 V. 10. Now when that man of Thine, Simplicia- 
 nus, related to me this of Yictorinus, I was on fire 
 to imitate him; and 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, where- 
 by Christians were forbidden to teach the liberal 
 sciences or oratory; and how he, obeying this law, 
 chose rather to give over the wordy school than Thy 
 'Word, by which Thou makest eloquent the tongues 
 of the dumb / 4 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, not with another's irons, but by my 
 own iron will. My will the enemy held, and thence 
 had made a chain for me, and bound me. For of a 
 perverse will comes lust ; and a lust served becomes 
 custom ; and custom not resisted becomes necessity. 
 By which links, as it were, joined together (whence 
 I called it a chain) a hard bondage held me en- 
 thralled. 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 wilfulness strength- 
 ened 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. 
 
 1 Matt. xii. 29. 2 Luke xi. 22, 25. 32 Tim. ii. 21. 4 Wisd. x. 2L
 
 of Victor inns / but still weal: 187 
 
 11. Thus I understood, by my own experience, 
 what I had read, how the flesh lusteth against the 
 spirit, and the spirit against the flesh. 1 It was my- 
 self verily either way ; yet more myself, in that 
 which I approved in myself, than in that which in 
 myself I disapproved. 2 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 warring against me, because I had come 
 willingly whither I willed now not to be. And who 
 has any right to speak against it, if just punishment 
 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 
 was. But I, still under service to the earth, refused 
 to fight under Thy banner, and feared as much to be 
 freed of all incumbrances, as I ought to have feared 
 to be encumbered therewith! Thus with the baggage 
 of this 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 very often feeling a heavy lethargy 
 in all his limbs defers to shake off sleep, and, though 
 half displeased, yet, even after it is time to rise, with 
 pleasure yields to it, so was I assured, that much 
 
 i Gal. v. '7. 2 Rom vii. 17.
 
 188 Some mention of his friends. 
 
 better were it for me to give myself up to Thy 
 charity, than to give myself over to mine own 
 cupidity ; but though the former course satisfied me 
 and gained the mastery, the latter pleased me and 
 held me mastered. Nor had I anything to answer 
 Thee calling to me, Awake, thou that sleepest, and 
 arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light, 1 
 And when Thou didst on all sides show me that 
 what Thou saidst was true, I, convicted by the truth, 
 had nothing at all to answer, but only those dull and 
 drowsy words, " Anon, anon," " presently ; " " leave 
 me but a little." But "presently, presently," had 
 no present, and my " little while " went on for a long 
 while ; in vain I delighted in TJiy law according to 
 the inner man, when another law in my members 
 rebelled against the law of my mind, and led me cap- 
 tive under the law of sin which was in my members? 
 For the law of sin is the violence of custom, whereby 
 the mind is drawn and holden, even against its will ; 
 but deservedly, for that il willingly fell into it. Who 
 then should deliver me thus wretched from the body 
 of this death, but Thy grace only, through Jesus 
 Christ our Lord? 3 
 
 VI. 13. And how Thou didst deliver me out 
 of the bonds of desire, wherewith I was bound 
 most straitly to carnal concupiscence, and out of the 
 drudgery of worldly things, I will now declare, and 
 confess unto Thy name, O Lord, my helper and my 
 redeemer* Amid increasing anxiety, I was doing my 
 wonted business, and daily sighing unto Thee. I at- 
 
 1 Eph. v. 14. 2 Rom. vii. 22. 3 Ver. 24, 25. < Ps. xix. 14.
 
 The story of Pontitianus. 189 
 
 tended 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 business, and awaiting to whom to sell his 
 counsel, as I sold the skill of speaking, if indeed 
 teaching can impart it. To please us, Nebridius had 
 now 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 greatly needed. Nebridius 
 then was not drawn to this by any desire of ad- 
 vantage (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 person- 
 ages 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. One day then, Nebridius being absent (I recol- 
 lect not why), there came to see me and Alypius, one 
 Pontitianus, our countryman so far as being an Af- 
 rican, 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 gaming-table, 
 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 
 
 15
 
 100 The story of Pontitlanus. 
 
 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 lie was a Chris- 
 tian, and baptized, and often bowed himself before 
 Thee our God in the Church, in frequent and con- 
 tinued prayers. When then I had told him that I 
 bestowed very great pains upon those Scriptures, a 
 conversation arose (suggested by his account) on An- 
 tony the Egyptian Monk : whose name was in high 
 reputation among Thy servants, though to that hour 
 unknown to us. Which when he discovered, he 
 dwelt more upon that subject, informing, and Avonder- 
 ing at our ignorance of one so eminent. But we 
 
 o o 
 
 stood amazed, hearing of Thy wonderful woi'ks (most 
 fully attested, in times so recent, and almost in our 
 own time) wrought in the true Faith and Church 
 Catholic. We all wondered ; we, that they were so 
 great, and he, that they had not reached us. 
 
 15. Thence his discourse turned to the flocks in 
 the Monasteries, and their holy ways, a sweet-smell- 
 ing savor unto Thee, and the fruitful deserts of the 
 wilderness, whereof we knew nothing. And there 
 was a Monastery at Milan, full of good brethren, 
 without the city walls, under the fostering care of 
 Ambrose, and we knew it not. He went on with his 
 discourse, and we listened in intent silence. He told 
 us then how one afternoon at Triers, when the 
 Emperor was taken up with the Cireensian games, he 
 and three others, his companions, went out to 'walk in 
 gardens near the city walls, and there as they hap-
 
 TJie story of Pontitianus. 191 
 
 pened to walk in pairs, one went apart with him, and 
 the other two wandered by themselves ; and these 
 latter, in their wanderings, lighted upon a certain cot- 
 tage, inhabited by certain of Thy servants, poor in 
 spirit, of whom is the kingdom of heaven, 1 and there 
 they found a little book, containing the life of An- 
 tony. 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 sud- 
 denly, 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 labors of ours ? what aim we at ? what 
 serve we for ? Can our hopes in court rise higher 
 than to be the Emperor's favorites? 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 arrive we thither ? But, if I desire it, I can 
 become now at once a friend of God." 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 lookest, 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 5 
 
 i Matt. v. 3.
 
 102 Augustine's irresolution. 
 
 and from this hour, in this place, I begin upon this. 
 If thou likest not to imitate me, do not oppose me." 
 The other answered, that he would cleave to him, to 
 partake so glorious a reward, so glorious a service. 
 Thus both being now Thine, were building the tower 
 at the necessary cost, the forsaking all tJiat they had 
 and following Thee} Then Pontitianus and the 
 other with him, that had walked in other parts of the 
 garden, came in search of them to the same place ; 
 and finding them, reminded them to return, for the 
 day was now far spent. But they relating their reso- 
 lution and purpose, and how that determination was 
 begun, and settled in them, begged them, if they 
 would not join, not to molest them. Their friends, 
 though nothing altered from their former selves, did 
 yet bewail themselves (as he affirmed), and piously 
 congratulated them, recommending themselves to 
 their prayers ; and so, with hearts lingering on the 
 earth, went away to the palace. But the other two, 
 fixing their hearts on heaven, remained in the cot- 
 tage. 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 face, that I might 
 see how foul I was, how crooked and defiled, bespot- 
 ted and ulcerous. And I beheld, and stood aghast ; 
 
 l Luke xiv. 26-35.
 
 His will still divided. 193 
 
 and whither to flee from myself I found not. And if 
 I sought to turn mine eye from off myself, he went 
 on with his relation, and Thou again didst set me 
 over against myself, and thrustedst me before iny 
 eyes, that I might find out, mine iniquity, and hate 
 it. 1 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 themselves wholly to Thee to be cured, the 
 more did I abhor myself, 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 deferring to 
 reject mere earthly felicity, and give myself to search 
 out that, whereof not the finding only but the very 
 search, was to be preferred to the treasures and king- 
 doms of the world, though already found, and to the 
 pleasures of the body, though spread around me at 
 my will. But, I wretched, most wretched, in the 
 very 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 dis- 
 ease of concupiscence, which I wished to have satis- 
 fied rather than extinguished. And I had wandered 
 through crooked ways in a sacrilegious superstition, 
 not indeed assured thereof, but as preferring it to 
 / 
 
 l Fs. xxxvi. 2.
 
 194 His will still divided. 
 
 the truth which I did not seek religiously, but op- 
 posed maliciously. 
 
 18. And I had heretofore thought, that I therefore 
 deferred from 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 up- 
 braid me. " Where art thou now, my tongue ? Thou 
 saidst, that for an uncertain truth thou likedst not 
 to cast off the baggage of vanity ; now truth is 
 certain, and yet that burden still oppresseth thee ; 
 while they who neither have so worn themselves 
 out with seeking it, nor for ten years and more have 
 been thinking thereon, have had their shoulders 
 lightened, and received wings to fly away." Thus 
 was I gnawed within, and exceedingly confounded 
 with an horrible shame, while Pontitianus was 
 speaking. And he having brought to a close his 
 tale and the business he came for, went his way; 
 and I into myself. What said I not against myself? 
 with what scourges of condemnation lashed I not 
 my soul, that it might follow me, striving 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 great contention of my 
 inward dwelling, which I had strongly raised against
 
 His icill still divided. 195 
 
 myself in the chamber 1 of my heart, troubled in mind 
 and countenance, I turned upon Alypius. "What 
 ails us ? " I exclaim : " what is it ? what heardest 
 thou ? The unlearned start up and take heaven by 
 force 2 and we with our learning, and without heart, 
 wallow in flesh and blood ! Are we ashamed to fol- 
 low, because others are gone before, and are 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, cheeks, eyes, color, tone of voice, spake 
 my mind more than the words I uttered. A little 
 garden there was to our lodging, which we had the 
 use of, as of the whole house ; for the master of the 
 house, our host, was not living there. Thither had the 
 tumult of my breast hurried me, where no man might 
 hinder the hot contention wherein I had engaged 
 with myself, until it should end as Thou knewest, 
 but 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 was shortly to 
 become. I retired then into the garden, and Alyp- 
 ius on my steps. For his presence did not lessen 
 my privacy; and how could he forsake me so dis- 
 turbed ? "We sate down as far removed as might be 
 from the house. I was troubled in spirit, most vehe- 
 mently indignant that I entered not into Thy will 
 and covenant, O my God, which all. my bones cried 
 out unto me to enter, and praised it to the skies. 
 
 1 Isaiah xxvi. 20; Matt. vi. 6. 2 Matt. vi. 12.
 
 196 How is it that the mind 
 
 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 
 only to go, but to arrive, 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 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, but cannot, because they have not 
 the limbs, or are bound with bands, weakened with 
 infirmity, or in some way hindered. Thus, if I tore 
 my hair, beat my forehead, if locking my fingers I 
 clasped my knee, it was done because I willed it. 
 But I might have willed, and not done it, if the 
 power of motion in my limbs had not obeyed. Many 
 things then I did, when "to will" was not in itself 
 " to be able ; " but I did not what both I longed in- 
 comparably more to do, and what 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 spiritual things ability is one with will, 
 and to will is to do ; and yet at that time was it not 
 done : and more easily did my body obey the weak- 
 est willing of my soul, in moving its limbs at its nod, 
 than the soul obeyed itself to accomplish in the will 
 alone this its momentous will. 
 
 IX. 21. Whence is this monstrousness ? and to 
 what end ? Let Thy mercy gleam that I may ask, 
 if the secret penalties of men, and those darkest
 
 disobeys itself. 197 
 
 pangs of the sons of Adam, may perhaps answer me. 
 Whence is this monstrousness ? and to what end ? 
 The mind commands the body, and it obeys in- 
 stantly ; the mind commands itself, and is resisted. 
 The mind commands the hand to be moved ; and 
 such readiness is there, that command is scarce dis- 
 tinct 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 ? and to what end ? It commands it- 
 self, I say, to will, and would not command, 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 will- 
 eth : 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- 
 maudeth, 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, Tliy presence, 1 O 
 God, as vain talkers and seducers* of the soul, who, 
 because they observe that in deliberating there are 
 two determinations, affirm that there are two mental 
 
 i Psalm Ixviii. 2. 2 Tit- i. 10.
 
 1 98 How is it that the mind 
 
 natures 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 t*uth, that Thy 
 Apostle may say to them, Ye were sometimes dark- 
 ness, but now light in the Lord! But they, wishing 
 to be light, not in the Lord but in themselves, 
 imagining the nature of the soul to be that which 
 God is, are made more gross darkness through 
 a dreadful arrogancy ; going back farther from 
 Thee, the true Light that enlighteneth every man 
 that cometh into the world? Take heed what you 
 say, and blush for shame : draw near unto Him 
 and be enlightened, and your faces shall not be 
 ashamed. 3 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 indi- 
 cated not the presence of another mind, but the 
 punishment of my own. Therefore it was no more I 
 that wrought it, but sin that dwelt in me y 4 the pun- 
 ishment 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 be not two 
 only, but many. If a man deliberate whether he 
 should go to their conventicle, or to the theatre, 
 these Manichces cry out, Behold, here are two na- 
 
 1 Eph. v. 8. 2 John i. 9. 3 p g xxxiv. 5. 4 Kom. vii. 17.
 
 disobeys itself. 199 
 
 tures : one good, draws this way ; another bad, draws 
 back that way. For whence else is this hesitation 
 between conflicting wills ? But I say, that both be 
 bad : that which draws to them, as that which draws 
 back to the theatre. But they believe that will to be 
 good, which draws to them. What then if one of us 
 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 con- 
 fess (which they fain wduld not) that the will which 
 leads to our church is good, or they must suppose two 
 evil natures, and two evil souls conflicting in one 
 man, instead of seeing the truth, that in deliberation, 
 one soul fluctuates between contrary wills. 
 
 24. Let them no more say, then, when they per- 
 ceive two conflicting wills in one man, that the con- 
 flict 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 dis- 
 prove, check, and convict them by facts ; 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 an- 
 other's, when he cannot both ; whether he should 
 purchase pleasure by luxury, or keep his money by 
 covetousness ; whether h^ 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 to-
 
 200 Tico opposing wills in one man 
 
 gether in the same juncture of time, and all being 
 equally desired, which cannot at one time be acted, 
 do rend the mind amid four, or even (amid the vast 
 variety of things desired) more conflicting wills ; but 
 who will say that there are so many divers sub- 
 stances ? So also in wills which are good. For I 
 ask them, is it good to take pleasure in reading the 
 Apostle ? or good to take pleasure in a sober Psalm ? 
 or good to discourse on the Gospel ? They will 
 answer to each, " It is good." What then if all give 
 equal pleasure, and all at once ? Do not divers wills 
 distract the mind, while he deliberates which he 
 should rather choose ? yet are they all good, and are 
 at variance till one be chosen, whither the one entire 
 will may be borne, which before was divided into 
 many. Thus also, when eternity above delights ns, 
 and the pleasure of temporal good holds us down be- 
 low, it is the same soul which willeth neither way 
 with an entire will ; and therefore is it rent asunder 
 with grievous perplexities, because its love of truth 
 sets this first, while its habit sets the other one first. 
 
 XL 25. Thus soul-sick was I, and tormented, ac- 
 cusing myself much more severely than my wont, 
 rolling and turning me in my chain, till that were 
 wholly broken, whereby I now was but just, but still 
 was, held. And Thou, O Lord, didst press upon me 
 inwardly by a severe mercy, redoubling the lashes of 
 fear and shame, lest I should again give way, and, not 
 bursting that slight remaintng tie, it should recover 
 strength, and bind me the /aster. For I said within 
 myself, "Be it done now, be it done now;" and
 
 do not imply two souls. 201 
 
 as I spake, I all but performed 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 to it, nor touched nor laid hold 
 of it ; hesitating to die to death and to live to life ; 
 and the worse, whereto I was inured, prevailed more 
 with me .than the better whereto I was unused ; and 
 as the moment approached wherein I was to become 
 other than I was, 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 that I said, 
 " this or that," O my God ? Let Thy mercy turn it 
 away from the soul of Thy servant. What defile- 
 ments did they suggest ! what shame ! But now I 
 much less than half heard them, not openly showing 
 themselves and contradicting me, but muttering as it 
 were behind my back, and privily plucking me, as I 
 was departing, but to look back on them. Yet they 
 did retard me, so that I hesitated to burst and shake 
 myself free from them, and to spring over whither I 
 was called ; a violent habit saying to me, " Thinkest 
 thou, thou canst live without them ?"
 
 202 Finds relief in a flood of tears. 
 
 27. But now it spake very faintly. For on that 
 side whither I had set my face, and whither I trem- 
 bled to go, there appeared unto me the chaste 
 dignity of Continency, serene, not dissolutely 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 multi- 
 tude of youth and every age, grave widows and aged 
 virgins ; and Continence herself in all, not barren, 
 but a fruitful mother of children of joys, by Thee 
 her Husband, O Lord. And she smiled on me with a 
 persuasive mockery, as if she would say, " Canst not 
 thou do what these youths, what these maidens can ? 
 or do they do it of themselves, and not rather by the 
 Lord their God ? 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 fill ; cast thy- 
 self fearlessly upon Him, He will receive, and will 
 heal thee." And I blushed exceedingly, for that I 
 yet heard the murmuring of those toys, and hung in 
 suspense. And she again seemed to say, " Stop thine 
 ears against those thy unclean members on the earth, 
 that they may be mortified. They tell thee of 
 delights, but not as doth the law of the Lord thy 
 God." 1 This controversy in my heart was self 
 against self only. But Alypius sitting close by my 
 side, in silence waited the issue of my unwonted 
 emotion. 
 
 1 Fs. cxix. 85. Old Ver.
 
 Finds relief in a flood of tears. 203 
 
 XII. 28. And when a deep consideration had 
 from the secret bottom of my soul drawn together 
 and heaped up all my misery 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 from Aly- 
 pius : solitude seemed to me fitter for the business 
 of weeping ; so I retired so far that even his pres- 
 ence could not be a burden to me. Thus was it with 
 me, and he perceived something of it ; for I suppose 
 I had spoken something, wherein the tones of my 
 voice appeared choked with weeping, as I had risen 
 up. He 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 I much unto Thee : 
 and TIiou, Lord, how long ? how long, Lord, wilt 
 Tliou be angry for ever? 1 Remember not our for- 
 mer iniquities, 2 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 this hour is there not an end to my un- 
 cleanness ? 
 
 29. So was I speaking, and weeping in the most 
 bitter contrition of my heart, when, lo ! I heard from 
 a neighboring house a voice, as of boy or girl, I 
 know not, chanting, and oft repeating, "Take up 
 and read ; Take up and read." Instantly, my coun- 
 
 1 Psalm vi. 4. 2 Psaim Ixxix. 5, 8.
 
 204 Determined at length 
 
 ___^ 
 
 tenance altered, I began to think most intently, 
 whether children were wont in any kind of play to 
 sing such words : nor could I remember ever to have 
 heard the like. So checking the torrent of my tears, 
 I arose ; interpreting it to be no other than a com- 
 mand 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 
 received the admonition, as if what was being read 
 was spoken to him : Go, sell all that thou hast, and 
 give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in 
 heaven, and come and follow 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 passage, on which my eyes 
 first fell : Not in rioting and drunkenness, not in 
 chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envy- 
 ing : but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make 
 not provision for the flesh,* in concupiscence. No 
 further would I read ; nor needed I : for instantly at 
 the end of this sentence, by a light as it were of 
 serenity infused into my heart, all the darkness of 
 doubt vanished away. 
 
 30. Then putting my finger between, or some 
 other mark, I shut the volume, and with a calmed 
 countenance made it known to Alypius. *4Vnd what 
 was wrought in him, which I knew not, he thus 
 showed me. He asked to see what I had read : I 
 
 l Matt. xix. 21. 2 Uom. xiii. 13, 14.
 
 by a passage of Holy ScrifAure. 205 
 
 showed him ; .and he looked even further than I had 
 read, and I knew not what followed. This followed : 
 him that is weak in the faith, receive y 1 which he ap- 
 plied to himself, and disclosed to me. And by this 
 admonition was he strengthened ; and by a good 
 resolution and purpose, and according to his natural 
 character, in which he was far different from me, and 
 far better, without any turbulent delay he joined me. 
 Thence we go in to my mother ; we tell her ; she re- 
 joices ; we relate in order how it took place ; she 
 leaps for joy, and triumphs, and blesses Thee, Who 
 art able to do above that which we a$k or think j* 
 for she perceived that Thou hadst given her more for 
 me, than she was wont to beg by her pitiful and most 
 sorrowful groanings. For Thou convertedst me unto 
 Thyself, so that I sought neither wife, nor any hope 
 of this world, standing in that rule of faith, where 
 Thou hadst showed me unto her in a vision, so many 
 years before. 3 And Thou didst convert her mourn- 
 ing into joyS much more plentiful than she had 
 desired, and in a much more precious and purer way 
 than she erst required, when she asked grandchildren 
 of my body. 
 
 1 Rom. xiv. 1. 8 Compare Book III. xi. 
 
 2 Eph. iii. 20. 4 Psalm xxx. 11. 
 
 16
 
 THE NINTH BOOK. 
 
 AUGUSTINE DETERMINES TO DEVOTE HIS LIFE TO GOD, AND TO ABAN- 
 DON HIS PROFESSION OF RHETORIC, QUIETLY HOWEVER RETIRES 
 TO THE COUNTRY TO PREPARE HIMSELF TO RECEIVE THE RITE 
 
 . OF BAPTISM, AND IS BAPTIZED WITH ALYPIU8, AND HIS SON ADEO- 
 DATU8 AT 08TIA, ON HIS WAY TO AFRICA, HIS MOTHER MONICA 
 DIES, IN HER FIFTY-SIXTH YEAR, THE THIRTY-THIRD OF AUGUS- 
 TINE HER LIFE AND CHARACTER. 
 
 I. 1. Lord, I am Thy servant; lam Thy ser- 
 vant, and the son of Thy handmaid / Thou hast 
 broken my bonds in sunder. I will offer to Thee the 
 sacrifice of praise. * Let my heart and my tongue 
 praise Thee ; yea, let all my bon#s say, Lord, who 
 is like unto Thee ? Let them say, and answer Thou, 
 and say unto my soul, I am thy salvation. 2 Who 
 am I, and what man am I ? Rather what evil have I 
 not been, either in my deeds, or if not in my deeds, 
 in my words, or if not in my words, in my will ? 
 But Thou, O Lord, art good and merciful, and Thy 
 right hand had respect unto the depth of my death, 
 and from the bottom of my heart emptied that abyss 
 of corruption. And this Thy whole gift was, to nill 
 what I willed, and to will what Thou willedst. But 
 where, through all those years, was my free will, and 
 
 1 Psalm cxvi. 16, 17. 2 Psalm xxxv. 10.
 
 Resolves to give up his profession. 207 
 
 out of what low and deep recess was it called forth 
 in a moment, so that I submitted my neck to Thy 
 easy yoke? and my shoulders unto Thy light burden, 
 Christ JesitSj my Helper and my Redeemer?* 
 How sweet did it at once become to me, to give up 
 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 true and 
 highest sweetness. Thou castedst them forth, and in 
 place of them enteredst in Thyself, sweeter than all 
 pleasure, though not to flesh and blood ; brighter 
 than all light, but more hidden than all depths ; 
 higher than all honor, but not to the high 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 in- 
 fant 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 tumult u- 
 ously to tear, but gently to withdraw, the service of 
 my tongue from the marts of lip-labor : that the 
 young, who studied not Thy law, nor Thy peace, but 
 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, to sell myself 
 no more. Our purpose then was known to Thee ; 
 but to men, other than our own friends, was it not 
 
 1 Matt. xi. 30. 2 I'salm xix. 4.
 
 208 Augustine resolves 
 
 known. For we had agreed among ourselves not to 
 disclose it to any : although to us, now ascending 
 from the valley of tears, and singing that song of de- 
 grees^ Thou hadst given sharp arroios, and destroying 
 coals, against whatever subtle tongue, that on pre- 
 tence of advising would thwart us, and would out of 
 love devour us, as it doth its meat. 
 
 3. For Thou hadst pierced our hearts with Thy 
 love, and we carried Thy words as it were fixed in 
 our bowels : and the examples of Thy servants, 
 \vhom for black Thou hadst made bright, and for 
 dead, alive, being piled together in the receptacle of 
 our thoughts, kindled and burned up our heavy tor- 
 por, 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 hal- 
 lowed throughout the earth, this our vow and pur- 
 pose 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 observing how near was the 
 time of vintage which I wished to anticipate, would 
 talk much of me, as if I had desired to appear some 
 great one. And what end had it served me, that 
 people should repute and dispute upon my purpose, 
 and that our good should be evil spoken of? 1 
 
 4. Moreover, it had at first troubled me, that in 
 
 1 Kom. xiv. 16.
 
 to give up his profession. 209 
 
 this very summer my lungs began to give way, amid 
 too great literary labor, and to breathe deeply with 
 difficulty, and by the pain in my chest to show that 
 they were injured, and to refuse any full or length- 
 ened speaking; this had troubled me, for it almost 
 constrained me of necessity, to lay down that burden 
 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 how that Thou art the 
 Lord* arose, and was fixed, in me, my God, Thou 
 knowest, I began even to rejoice that I had this sec- 
 ondary, and no feigned, excuse, which might some- 
 what moderate the offence taken by those, who for 
 their sons' sake wished me never to have the freedom 
 of Thy sons. Full then of such joy, I endured till 
 that interval of time were run ; it may have been 
 some twenty days, yet they were endured manfully ; 
 endured, for the covetousness which aforetime bore a 
 part of this heavy business, had left me, and I re- 
 mained alone, and had been overwhelmed, had not 
 patience taken its place. Perchance, some of Thy 
 servants, my brethren, may say, that I sinned in this, 
 that with a heart fully set on Thy service, I suffered 
 myself to sit even one hour in the chair of lies. Nor 
 would I be contentious. But hast not Thou, O most 
 merciful Lord, pardoned and remitted this sin also, 
 with my other most horrible and deadly sins, in the 
 holy waters of baptism ? 
 
 III. 5. Verecundus was worn down with caro 
 about this our blessedness, for that being held back 
 
 l Psalm xlvi. 10.
 
 210 Conversion of Verecundus 
 
 by bonds, whereby he was most straitly bound, he 
 saw that he should be severed from us. For himself 
 was not yet a Christian, his wife one of the faithful ; 
 and yet hereby, more rigidly than by any other chain, 
 was he let and hindered from the journey which 
 we had now essayed. For he would 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 I should stay 
 there. Thou, O Lord, shalt reward him in the res- 
 urrection of thejust^ 1 seeing Thou hast already given 
 him the lot of the righteous. 2 For, in my absence at 
 Rome, he was seized with bodily sickness, and therein 
 being made a Christian, and one of the faithful, he 
 departed this life ; thus hadst Thou mercy not on 
 him only, but on me also: 3 lest remembering the ex- 
 ceeding kindness of my friend towards me, yet un- 
 able to number him among Thy flock, I should be 
 agonized with intolerable sorrow. Thanks unto Thee, 
 my God, I am Thine : Thy suggestions and conso- 
 lations tell me, Faithful in promises, that Thou now 
 requitest Verecundus for his country house of Cassia- 
 cum, where from the fever of the world I reposed in 
 Thee, with the eternal freshness of Thy Paradise : for 
 that Thou hast forgiven him his sins upon earth, in 
 that rich mountain, that mountain which yieldeth 
 milk, Thine own mountain. 
 
 6. He, however, was at that time troubled, but Ne- 
 bridius rejoiced. For although he too, not being yet 
 a Christian, had fallen into the pit of that most per- 
 
 l Luke xiv. 14. 2 Psalm cxxv. 3. 3 mil. ii. 27.
 
 and Nebridius. 211 
 
 nicious error, believing the flesh of Thy Son to be a 
 phantom : yet emerging thence, he believed as I did , 
 not as yet indued with any Sacraments of Thy 
 Church, but a most ardent searcher-out of truth. 
 Whom, not long after my conversion and regener- 
 ation by Thy Baptism, becoming also a faithful mem- 
 ber of the Church Catholic, and serving Thee in per- 
 fect 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. 1 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 inex- 
 perienced 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 1 
 think that he is so inebriated therewith, as to forget 
 me ; seeing Thou, Lord, Whom he drinketh, art mind- 
 ful of me. But now I tried to comfort Verecundus, 
 who sorrowed, as far as friendship permitted, that my 
 conversion was of such sort ; exhorting him to be- 
 come faithful, according to his state of married life ; 
 and expecting Nebridius to follow me, which he was 
 all but doing. And so those days rolled by at length ; 
 for long and many they seemed, for the love I bare to 
 the easeful liberty, in which I could sing to Thee from 
 
 l Compare Augustini De Anima IV. 15, 16. ED.
 
 212 Retires to the country 
 
 my inmost marrow, My heart hath 'said unto Thee, 
 I have sought Thy face : Thy face, Lord, will I 
 seek. l 
 
 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 my friends 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 Treat- 
 ises may witness, as well what I debated with others, 
 as what with myself alone, before Thee : 2 what with 
 Nebridius, who was absent, my Epistles bear witness. 
 And when shall I have time to 1'ehearse all Thy great 
 benefits towards me at that time, especially when 
 hasting on to yet greater mercies ? For my remem- 
 brance 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, loicering the 
 mountains and hills of my high imaginations, 
 straightening my crookedness, and smoothing 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 would not at first vouchsafe to have in- 
 serted in my writings. For rather would he have 
 
 1 Psalm xxvii. 8. 
 
 2 Their subjects, and order, may be found in Augustine's Retractatioues 
 1. 1-4. Ed.
 
 with Alypius and his mother. ? 1 3 
 
 them savor of the lofty cedars of the Schools, which 
 the Lord hath now broken down? than of the whole- 
 some herbs of the Church, the antidote against ser-^ 
 pents. 
 
 8. Oh, in what accents spake I unto Thee, my 
 God, when I read the Psalms of David, those faith- 
 ful songs, and sounds of devotion, which allow of no 
 swelling spirit, as yet a Catechumen, and a novice in 
 Thy real love, resting in that villa, with Alypius a 
 Catechumen, my mother cleaving to me, in female 
 garb, with masculine faith, with the tranquillity of 
 age, motherly love, Christian piety. Oh, what ac- 
 cents 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 they are 
 sung through the whole world, nor can any hide 
 himself from Thy heat.* With what vehement 
 and bitter sorrow was I angered at the Manichees ! 
 and again I pitied them, for that they knew not 
 those Sacraments, those medicines, and were mad 
 against the antidote, which might have recovered 
 them of their madness. How I would they had 
 then been 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 seen how 
 that Psalm wrought upon me. When I catted^ the 
 God of my righteousness heard me ; in tribulation 
 Thou enlargest me. Have mercy upon me, Lord, 
 
 l Psalm xxix. 5. 2 Psalm xix. 6.
 
 214 Application of the fourth Psalm. 
 
 and hear my prayer. 1 Would that what I uttered 
 on these words, they could hear, without my know- 
 ing whether they heard, lest they should think I 
 spake it for their sakes. For, in truth, neither should 
 I speak the same things, nor in the same way, if I 
 perceived that they heard and saw me ; nor if I 
 spake them, would they so receive them, as when I 
 spake by and for myself before Thee, out of the nat- 
 ural feelings of my soul. 
 
 9. I trembled for fear, and again kindled with 
 hope, and with rejoicing in Thy mercy, O Father ; 
 and all my soul issued forth both by mine eyes and 
 voice, when Thy good Spirit turning unto us, said, O 
 ye sons of men, how long slow of heart ? why do ye 
 love vanity, and seek after leasing . ? * For I had 
 loved vanity, and sought after leasing. And Thou, 
 O Lord, hadst already magnified Thy Holy One, 
 raising Sim from the dead, and setting Him at 
 Thy right hand, 3 whence from on high He should 
 send His promise, the Comforter, the Spirit of 
 truth.* And He had already sent Him, but I knew 
 it not ; He had sent Him, because He was now mag- 
 nified, rising again from the dead, and ascending into 
 heaven. 5 For till then, the Spirit was not yet given, 
 because Jesus was not yet glorified. 6 ' And the 
 prophet cries out, How long, slow of heart ? why do 
 ye love vanity, and seek after leasing f Know this, 
 that the Lord hath magnified His Holy One. He 
 
 1 r. iv. 1. Old Ver. < Luke xxir. 49 ; John xiv. 16, 17. 
 
 2 Ps. ir. 2. & Acts ii. 14. 
 
 3 Eph. i 20. John vii. 39.
 
 Applicat ion of the fo urth Psalm. 215 
 
 cries out, How long ? He cries out, Know this : and 
 I so long, not knowing, loved vanity, and sought 
 after leasing: and therefore I heard and trembled, 
 because it was spoken unto such as I remembered 
 myself to have been. For in those phantoms which 
 I had held for truths, was there vanity and leasing; 
 and I spake aloud many things earnestly and forci- 
 bly, 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 would- 
 est hear them when tJiey cried unto Thee ; for by a 
 true death in the flesh did He die for us, who now 
 intercedeth unto Thee for us. 1 
 
 10. I further read, JBe angry, and sin not. 2 And 
 how was I 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 it was not another nature of dark spirits which 
 sinned for me, 3 as they say who are not angry at 
 themselves, and treasure up wrath against the day 
 of wrath, and of the revelation of Thy just judg- 
 ment.* Nor were my good things now sought from 
 without, nor sought with the eyes of flesh in the 
 earthly sun ; for they that would have joy from with- 
 out soon become vain, and waste themselves on the 
 things seen, and temporal, and in their famished 
 thoughts do lick their very shadows. Oh that they 
 
 1 Rom. viii. 34. 2 Eph. iv. 26. 
 
 3 The allusion is to the Gnostico-SIanichaan theory of evil, which places 
 the ultimate source of sin out of human nature. ED. 
 * Rom. ii. 5.
 
 216 Applies to Ambrose 
 
 were wearied put with their famine, and said, Who 
 will show us good things . ?l Then we would say, 
 and they hear, The light of Thy countenance is 
 sealed upon us. 2 For we are not that light which 
 enlighteneth every man, 3 but we are enlightened by 
 Thee ; that having been sometimes darkness, we may 
 be light in Thee.* Oh that they could see the 
 Eternal internal, which having tasted, I was grieved 
 that I could not show It them, so long as they 
 brought me their heart in their eyes roving abroad 
 from Thee, while they said, Who will show us good 
 things ? s For there, where I was angry within my- 
 self in my chamber \ where I was inwardly pricked, 
 where I had sacrificed, slaying my old man and com- 
 mencing the purpose of a new life, putting my trust 
 in Thee, 6 there hadst Thou begun to grow sweet 
 unto me, and hadst put gladness in my heart. 1 And 
 I cried out, as I read this outwardly, and found it in- 
 wardly. Nor would I be multiplied 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 next verse, Oh ! in peace, Oh for The Self- 
 Same ! Oh what a word ! I will lay me down and 
 sleep;* for who shall hinder us, when cometh to pass 
 that saying which is written, Death is swallowed up in 
 victory? 9 And Thou surpassingly art the Self-Same, 
 who art not changed; and in Thee is rest which 
 
 1 Pa. iv. 6. 3 John i. 9. Pa. iv. . 7 Ps. Iv. 7. 91 Cor. xv. 54 
 
 2 Ps. iv. 6. < Eph. v. 8. 6 p s . iv. 5. 8 p s . iv. 8.
 
 for instruction and baptism. 217 
 
 forgettcth 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 
 I myself had been one, a pestilent person, a bitter 
 and a blind bawler against those writings, which are 
 honied with the honey of heaven, and lightsome 
 with Thine own light : and I was consumed with 
 zeal at the enemies of this Scripture. 
 
 12. When shall I recall all which passed in those 
 holydays ? Yet neither have I forgotten, nor will 
 I pass over the severity of Thy scourge, and the 
 wonderful swiftness of Thy mercy. Thou didst 
 then torment me with pain in my teeth ; which 
 when it had come to such height that I could not 
 speak, it came into my heart to desire all my friends 
 present to pray for me to Thee, the God of all man- 
 ner of health. And this I wrote on wax, and gave 
 it them to read. Presently so soon as with hum- 
 ble 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 impressed upojj me, 
 and rejoicing in faith, I praised Thy name. And 
 that faith suffered me not to be at ease about my 
 past sins, which were not yet forgiven me by Thy 
 baptism. 
 
 V. 13. The vintage-vacation ended, I gave no- 
 tice to the Milanese to provide their scholars with
 
 218 His friend Alypius. 
 
 another master to sell words to them ; for that I had 
 both made choice to serve Thee, and through my 
 difficulty of breathing and pain in my chest, was not 
 equal to the Professorship. And by letters I signi- 
 fied 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 ; I believe, because 
 he above the rest is a more clear foreshower of the 
 Gospel and of the calling of the Gentiles. But I, not 
 understanding the first lesson in him, and imagining 
 the whole to be like it, laid it by, to be resumed 
 when better practised in our Lord's own words. 
 
 VI. 14. When the time was come, wherein I 
 was to give in my name for baptism, we left the 
 country and returned to Milan. It pleased Alypius 
 also to be with me bom again 1 in Thee, being al- 
 ready clothed with the humility befitting Thy Sacra- 
 ments ; and a most valiant tamer of the body, so as, 
 with unwonted venture, to wear the frozen ground 
 of Italy with his bare feet. We joined with us the 
 boy Adeodatus, born after the flesh; of my sin. Ex- 
 cellently hadst Thou made him. He was not quite 
 fifteen, and in wit surpassed many grave and learned 
 men. I confess unto Thee Thy gifts, O Lord my 
 God, Creator of all, and abundantly able to reform 
 our deformities : for I had no part in that boy, but 
 
 1 Renasci : here, as often in the patristic writers, employed to denote the 
 initiating rite of baptism, with allusion, probably, to the phrase " born, 
 of water and the Spirit," in John iii. 5. ED.
 
 IRs son Adeodatus. 219 
 
 the sin. If I brought him up in Thy discipline, it 
 was Thou, none else, that inspired me to it. I con- 
 fess unto Thee Thy gifts. There is a book of mine 
 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 ad- 
 mirable, I found in him. His talent struck awe into 
 me. And who but Thou could be the workmaster 
 of such wonders? Soon didst Thou take his life from 
 the earth : and I now remember him without anxi- 
 ety, fearing nothing for his childhood or youth, or 
 his whole self. Him we joined with us, our contem- 
 porary in grace, to be brought up in Thy discipline ; 
 and we were baptized, and anxiety for our past life 
 vanished from us. Nor was I sated in those days 
 with the wondrous sweetness of contemplating the 
 depth of Thy counsels concerning the salvation of 
 mankind. How did I weep, in hearing Thy Hymns 
 and Canticles, touched to the quick by the voices of 
 Thy sweet-attuned church ! The voices flowed into 
 mine ears, and the Truth distilled into my heart, 
 whence the affections of my devotion overflowed, 
 and tears ran down, and happy was I therein. 
 
 VII. 15. Not long had the church of Milan be- 
 gun to xise this kind of consolation and exhortation, 
 the brethren zealously joining with harmony of voice 
 and hearts. For it was a year, or not much more, 
 since Justina, mother to the Emperor Valentinian, 
 yet a child, persecuted Thy servant Ambrose, in 
 
 1 De Magistro: Compare Augustiiii Uutraclatioues I. 12. ED.
 
 220 Church music; Protasius and Gervasius. 
 
 favor of her heresy, to which she was seduced by 
 the Arians. The devout people kept watch in the 
 church, ready to die with their bishop Thy servant. 
 There my mother Thy handmaid, bearing a chief 
 part of those anxieties and watchings, lived for 
 prayer. I, though yet unwarmed by the heat of Thy 
 Spirit, still was stirred up by the sight of the amazed 
 and disquieted city. Then it was first instituted that 
 after the manner of the Eastern churches, hymns and 
 psalms should be sung, lest the people should wax 
 faint through the tediousness of sorrow : and from 
 that day to this the custom is retained, divers, yea, 
 almost all Thy congregations, throughout other parts 
 of the world, following herein. 
 
 16. Then didst Thou by a vision discover to Thy 
 forenamed 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 indeed, but an 
 empress. For when they were discovered and dug 
 up, and with due honor 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 the city, asking 
 and hearing the reason of the people's confused 
 joy, sprang forth, desiring his guide to lead him 
 thither. Led thither, he begged "to be allowed to 
 touch with his handkerchief the bier of Thy saints,
 
 Death of Monica. 221 
 
 whose death is precious in Thy sight^ Which when 
 he had done, and put to his eyes^they were forth- 
 with opened. 2 Thence did the fame spread, thence 
 Thy praises glowed, shone ; thence the mind of that 
 enemy Justina, though not turned to the soundness 
 of believing, was yet turned back from her fury of 
 persecuting. Thanks to Thee, O my God. Whence 
 and whither hast Thou thus led my remembrance, 
 that I should confess these things also unto Thee ? 
 which great though they be, I had passed by in for- 
 getfulness. And yet then,, when the odor of Thy 
 ointments was so fragrant, did I not run after Thee? 
 Therefore did I the niore weep during the singing 
 of Thy hymns; at first sighing after Thee, and at 
 length breathing in Thee, so far as vital breath can 
 enter into this our house of grass. 
 
 VIII. 17. Thou that makest men to dwell of one 
 mind in one house* didst join with me Euodius also, a 
 young man of my own city ; who being an officer of 
 court, was before me converted to Thee and bap- 
 tized, and quitting his secular warfare, girded himself 
 to Thine. We were together, about to dwell to- 
 gether in our devout purpose. We sought where 
 we might serve Thee most usefully, and were to- 
 gether returning to Africa: but when we came as far 
 as Ostia, my mother departed this life. I omit much 
 in my story, being in haste. Receive my confessions 
 and thanksgivings, O my God, for innumerable things 
 
 1 Ps. cxvi. 15. 
 
 2 Augustine mentions this miracle again, with others, in De Civitate 
 Dei, XXII. viii ED. 
 
 3 Cant. i. 2, 3. < Ts. Ixviii. 0. 
 
 17
 
 222 Death of Monica. 
 
 whereof I am silent. But I will not omit whatso- 
 ever my soul would bring forth concerning Thy 
 handmaid, who brought me forth, both in the flesh, 
 that I might be born to this temporal light, and ih 
 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 or educate herself. Thou createdst 
 her; nor did her father and mother know what crea- 
 ture 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, edu- 
 cated 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 decrepit maid-servant, 
 who had carried her father when a child, as little 
 ones use to be carried at the backs of elder girls. 
 For which reason, and for her great age, and ex- 
 cellent conversation, was she, in that Christian fam- 
 ily, well respected by its heads ; and the charge of 
 her master's daughters was intrusted to her; to 
 which she gave diligent heed, restraining them ear- 
 nestly, when necessary, with holy severity, and teach- 
 ing them with a grave discretion. For, except at 
 those hours wherein they were most temperately fed 
 at their parent's table, she would not suffer them, 
 though parched with thirst, to drink even water ; pre- 
 venting an evil custom, and adding this wholesome 
 advice : "You drink water now, because you have not 
 wine in your power ; but when you come to be mar- 
 ried, and be made mistresses of cellars and cup- 
 boards, you will scorn water, but the custom of
 
 Her early years. 223 
 
 drinking will abide." By this method of instruction, 
 and the authority she had, she abated the greediness 
 of childhood, and moulded their very thirst to such 
 an excellent moderation, 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 custom was) she was bidden by her parents 
 to draw wine out of the hogshead, holding the vessel 
 under the tap, before she poured the wine into the 
 flagon, she sipped a little with the tip of her lips : 
 for more her natural taste refused. This she did, 
 noi out of any love of drink, but out of the exuber- 
 ance 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 thus by 
 adding to that little, daily littles (for whoso despis- 
 eth 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 her earnest coun- 
 termanding? Would aught avail against a secret dis- 
 ease, if Thy healing 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 sal- 
 vation 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 se- 
 
 1 Eccl. xix. 1.
 
 224 Her early years 
 
 eret store, and with one touch remove all that foul 
 stuff? For a maid-servant with whom she used to go 
 
 ' 
 
 to the cellar, falling to words (as it happens) with 
 her little mistress, when alone with her, taunted her 
 with this fault, with most bitter insult, calling her 
 wine-bibber. With which taunt, stung to the quick, 
 she saw the foulness of her fault, and instantly con- 
 demned and forsook it. As flattering friends pervert, 
 so reproachful enemies often correct. Yet by what 
 themselves purposed, not what Thou doest by them, 
 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 because the time and place of 
 the quarrel so found them ; or lest she herself should 
 be blamed for discovering it thus late. But Thou, 
 Lord, Governor of all in heaven and earth, who turn- 
 est to Thy purposes the deepest currents, and rulest 
 the turbulence of the tide of times, didst by the very 
 unhealthiness of one soul, heal another; lest any, 
 when he observes this, should ascribe it to his own 
 power, even when another, whom he wished to be 
 reformed, is reformed through words of his. 
 
 IX. 19. Brought up thus modestly and soberly, 
 and made subject rather by Thee to her parents, than 
 by her parents to Thee, so soon as she was of mar- 
 riageable 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 con- 
 versation ; by which Thou madest her beautiful, rev- 
 erently amiable, and admirable unto her husband. 
 And she so endured the wronging of her bed, as
 
 and married life. 225 
 
 never to have any quarrel with her husband thereon. 
 For she looked for Thy mercy upon him, that be- 
 lieving in Thee, he might be made chaste. Besides 
 this, he was fervid, as in .his affections, so in anger : 
 but she had learnt, not to resist an angry husb'and, 
 even in word. Only when he was smoothed and tran- 
 quil, and in a temper to receive it, she would give an 
 account of her actions, if haply he had over-hastily 
 taken offence. In a word, while many matrons, who 
 had milder husbands, yet bore even in their faces 
 marks of blows, and would in familiar talk blame 
 their husbands' lives, she would blame their tongues, 
 giving them, as in jest, earnest advice : " That from 
 the time they heard the marriage writings read to 
 them, they should account them as indentures, 
 whereby they were made servants ; and so, remem- 
 bering their condition, ought not to set themselves 
 up against their lords." And when they, knowing 
 what a choleric husband she endured, marvelled that 
 it had never been heard, nor by any token perceived, 
 that Patricius had beaten his wife, or that there had 
 been any domestic difference between them, even for 
 one day, and confidentially asked the reason, she 
 taught them her practice above mentioned. Those 
 wives who observed it found the benefit, and thanked 
 her ; those who observed it not, found no relief, and 
 suffered. 
 
 20. Her mother-in-law also, at first by whisperings 
 of evil servants incensed against her, she so over- 
 came by kindnesses and persevering endurance and 
 meekness, that she of her own accord discovered to
 
 226 Eminent for meekness 
 
 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 
 iu compliance with his mother, and for the well- 
 ordering of the family, and the harmony of its mem- 
 bers, he had with stripes corrected them, she prom- 
 ised the like recompense 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 re- 
 markable sweetness of mutual kindness. 
 
 21. This great gift also Thou bestowedst, O my 
 God, my Mercy, upon that good handmaid of. Thine 
 in whose womb Thou createdst me, that between 
 any disagreeing and discordant parties, where she 
 was able, she showed herself such a peacemaker, 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 recon- 
 cilement. A small good this might appear to me, 
 did I not to my grief know numberless persons, who 
 through some horrible and wide-spreading contagion 
 of sin, not only disclose to persons mutually angered 
 things said in anger, but add, withal, things never 
 spoken ; whereas to a humane man, it ought to seem 
 a light thing not to foment or increase ill-will by 
 ill words, but to study withal by good words to 
 quench it. Such was she, Thyself, her most inward 
 Instructor, teaching her in the school of the heart.
 
 and peace-making. 227 
 
 22. Finally, her own husband, towards the very 
 end of his earthly life, did she gain unto Thee ; nor 
 had she to complain after he became a Christian, of 
 what, before he was a believer, she had borne from 
 him. She was also the servant of Thy servants ; 
 whosoever of them knew her, did much praise and 
 honor and love Thee in her ; for through the witness 
 of the fruits of a holy conversation they perceived 
 Thy presence in her heart. For she had been the 
 wife of one man, had requited her 'parents, had g ov- 
 er ned her house piously, was well reported of for 
 good works, had brought up children, 1 travailing in 
 birth of them, 2 as often as she saw them swerving 
 from Thee. Lastly, as though she had been mother 
 of us all, she took care of all of Thy servants, O 
 Lord (whom on occasion of Thy own gift Thou suf- 
 ferest to speak), who, before her sleeping in Thee, 
 lived united together having received the grace of 
 Thy baptism, and served us, as though she had been 
 child to us all. 
 
 X. 23. The day now approaching whereon she 
 was to depart this life (which day Thou well knew- 
 est, we knew not), it came to pass, Thyself, as I be- 
 lieve, by Thy secret ways so ordering it, that she and 
 I stood alone, leaning in a certain window, which 
 looked into the garden of the house where we now 
 lay, at Ostia ; where removed from the din of men, 
 we were recruiting from the fatigues of a long jour- 
 ney, for the voyage. "VVe were discoursing then to- 
 gether, alone, very sweetly ; and forgetting those 
 
 1 1 Tim. v. 4, 9, 10. 2 Gal. iv. 19.
 
 228 Her last conversation 
 
 things ichich are behind, and reaching forth unto 
 those things which are before, 1 we were inquiring 
 between 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 heart of man.* 
 But yet unsatisfied, we gasped with the mouth of 
 our heart, after those heavenly streams of Thy foun- 
 tain, the fountain of life, which is with Thee / s that 
 being bedewed thence according to our capacity, we 
 might in some sort meditate upon so high a mystery. 
 24. And when our discourse was brought to that 
 point, that we perceived the very highest delight of 
 the earthly senses, in the very purest material light, 
 was, in respect of the sweetness of that heavenly 
 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 through all things bodily, even the very 
 heaven, whence sun and moon and stars shine upon 
 the earth ; yea, we were soaring higher yet, by in- 
 ward 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 
 never-failing plenty, where Thou feedest Israel* for 
 ever with the food of truth, and where life is the 
 very Wisdom by whom all these things are made, 
 both what have been, and what shall be. But 
 Wisdom is not made, but is, as she hath been, and so 
 shall she be ever ; yea rather, to " have been," and 
 
 1 Phil. iii. 13. 2 1 Cor. ii. 9. 3 r s . xxxvi. 9. * Ts. Ixxx. 1.
 
 with Augustine. 229 
 
 " 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 ; and we 
 sighed, and there we left bound the first fruits of 
 the Spirit;'* and returned to vocal expressions of our 
 mouth, where the word spoken has beginning and 
 end. And what is like unto Thy Word, our Lord, 
 who endureth in Himself without becoming old, and 
 maketh all things new ?* 
 
 25. We were saying to ourselves then : If the tu- 
 mult of the flesh were hushed, hushed the images of 
 earth, and waters and air, hushed also the poles of 
 heaven, yea the very soul hushed to herself, and by 
 not thinking on self surmounting self, hushed all 
 dreams and imaginary revelations, every tongue and 
 every sign, and whatsoever exists only in transition, 
 if they all should be hushed, having only roused 
 our ears to Him who made them (since if any can 
 hear, all these say, We made not ourselves, but HA 
 made us that abideth forever), and He alone should 
 then speak, not by them, but by Himself, that we 
 might hear His Word, not through any tongue of 
 flesh, nor angel's voice, nor sound of thunder, nor in 
 the dark riddle of a similitude, but might hear Him 
 whom in these things we love, might hear His very 
 Self without these (as we two now strained our- 
 selves to hear, and in swift thought touched on that 
 Eternal Wisdom, which abideth over all) ; could 
 
 l Rom. viii. 22. 2 Wisd. vii. 27.
 
 230 Her presentiment of her own death. 
 
 this be continued on, and other visions of kind far 
 unlike be withdrawn, and this one should ravish, and 
 absorb, and wrap up its beholder amid these inward 
 joys, so that life might be for ever like that one mo- 
 ment of intuition which now we sighed after ; were 
 not this the Enter into thy Master's joy ? l And 
 when shall that be ? When ice shall all rise again, 
 though we shall not all be changed? 2 
 
 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 speak- 
 ing of these things, and this world with all its de- 
 lights became, as we spake, contemptible to us, my 
 mother said, "Son, for mine own part I have no 
 further delight in anything 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 ac- 
 complished. One thing there was, for which I de- 
 sired to linger for a while in this life, that I might 
 see thee a Catholic Christian before I died. My God 
 hath done this for me more abundantly, in that I 
 now see thee despising earthly happiness, and be- 
 come 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 into a swoon, and was 
 for a while withdrawn from these visible things. 
 We hastened round her ; but she was soon brought 
 back to her senses ; and looking on me and my 
 
 l Matt. xxv. 21. 2 l Cor. xv. 51. Vulg., etc.
 
 Her presentiment of her own death. 231 
 
 brother standing by her, said to us inquiringly, 
 " Where was I ? " And then looking fixedly on us, 
 who were amazed with grief, she said : " Here shall 
 you bury your mother." I held my peace, and re- 
 frained weeping ; but my brother spake something, 
 wishing for her, as the happier lot, that she might 
 die, not in a strange place, but in her own land. 
 Whereat, with anxious look, checking him with her 
 eyes, because he still savored such things, and then 
 looking upon me, "Behold," saith she, "what he 
 saith :" and soon after to us both, "Lay this body 
 anywhere ; let not the care for that anyway dis- 
 quiet you : tnis only I request, that you would re- 
 member me at the Lord's altar, wherever you be." 1 
 
 l This incident is cited by Roman Catholic writers, in proof that the 
 Papal custom of prayers for the dead has the authority of Augustine, 
 and of the church of his day, in its favor. But it should be noticed, that 
 the mother of Augustine was an eminently pious person, and had been 
 so for years. The " remembrance " which she desired might be had of 
 her at the sacramental table, was not, therefore, a prayer either for her 
 regeneration, or for her deliverance from penal torment. Augustine, it 
 is true, in the petition which he offers, entreats God to pardon the sins 
 which his mother must have committed after her baptism. But he adds : 
 "I believe Thou hast already done what I ask." This prayer is merely 
 the transfer of filial affection from time to eternity. He had been in the 
 habit of praying for the spiritual welfare, the perfect deliverance from sin,' 
 of a beloved pareut, while she was upon earth. This supplication he con- 
 tinues after her decease, from a merely instinctive feeling, and in logi- 
 cal inconsistency with his own belief that she had passed beyoud the need 
 of prayers. For he was so certain of her being in bliss, that he even 
 " thought it not fitting to solemnize that funeral with tearful lament, 
 and groanings, as though she were unhappy or altogether dead ; whereas 
 she was neither unhappy in her death, nor altogether dead." Monica in 
 her request, and Augustine in his compliance with it, followed the prac- 
 tice of the Primitive church, but not of the Papal. The prayers of the 
 Primitive church, in which the departed believer was mentioned, were 
 eucharistic, an offering of thanks for what divine grace had wrought in
 
 232 Her indifference 
 
 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 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 pro- 
 vided and prepared for herself by the body of her 
 husband. For because they had lived in great har- 
 mony together, she also wished (so little can the hu- 
 man mind embrace things divine) tohave this ad- 
 dition to that happiness, and to have it remembered 
 among men, that after her pilgrimage beyond the 
 seas, what was earthly of this united pair had been 
 permitted to be united beneath the same earth. But 
 when this vanity, through the fulness of Thy good- 
 ness, first began to cease in her heart, I knew not, 
 
 nim. The churches, for example, " assembled upon the anniversary of 
 the death of a martyr, at his tomb. The narrative of his sufferings was 
 read, he was particularly mentioned in the public prayers, and the 
 Lord's Supper was administered, in the vivid consciousness of the endur- 
 ing communion between the living believer, and those who sleep in 
 Jesus. The church in Smyrna, in the reign of Aurelius, specifies as the 
 true end in celebrating these anniversaries, that it should contribute to 
 the commemoration of those who had finished their course, and to train 
 and prepare those that shall come after. In answer to the objection, 
 that such remembrance was idolatrous, they say : Christ we worship as 
 the Son of God; but the martyrs we deservedly love as the disciples and 
 imitators of our Lord, of whom we would become associates and fellow- 
 disciples." (Eusebius, IV. 15. Guericke, $ 38.) The custom, however, 
 was liable to abuse, and prepared the way for the distinctively 1'itpal 
 custom, of prayers for the salvation and repose of the souls of the dead. 
 But this result dates later than the fourth century. ED.
 
 respecting her burial-place. 233 
 
 and rejoiced that it was so ; though indeed in that 
 discourse 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 
 while we were at Ostia, she with a maternal con- 
 fidence, when I was absent, one day discoursed 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 re- 
 plied, "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 
 wnthal 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 Ade- 
 odatus 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 finding its vent in 
 weeping, through the juvenile voice of my heart, was 
 checked and silenced. For we thought it not fitting 
 to solemnize that funeral with tearful lament, and 
 groanings, as though she were unhappy, or alto- 
 gether dead ; whereas she was neither unhappy in
 
 234 Buries her, but 
 
 her death, nor altogether dead. Of this we were as- 
 sured on good grounds, the testimony of her good 
 conversation and her faith unfeigned. 
 
 30. What then was it which did grievously pain 
 me within, but a fresh wound wrought through the 
 sudden wrench of our most sweet and dear custom 
 of living together? I joyed indeed in one tes- 
 timony of her last sickness, that mingling her en- 
 dearments with my acts of duty, she called me " duti- 
 ful," 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 honor that I paid to her, and her sla- 
 very for me? Being then deprived of so great com- 
 fort 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, Euo- 
 dius took up the Psalter, and began to sing the 
 Psalm, I will sing of mercy and judgment to Thee, 
 O Lord, 1 the whole house answering. 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 another part of the house, where I might prop- 
 erly), together with those who thought not fit to 
 leave me, discoursed upon something fitting the 
 time ; and by this balm of truth, I assuaged that tor- 
 ment, known to Thee, and which they listening in- 
 
 l realm ci.
 
 without immoderate grief. 235 
 
 tently, knew not, conceiving me to be without all 
 sense of sorrow. But in Thy ears, where none of 
 them heard, I chided the weakness of my feelings, 
 and refrained my flood of grief, and it gave way a 
 little unto me ; but again it came, as with a tide, yet 
 not so as to burst out into tears, nor to a change of 
 countenance ; still I knew what I was keeping down 
 in my heart. And being very much displeased that 
 these human things had such power over me, which 
 in the due order and appointment of our natural 
 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 (the corpse being by the grave's side, as the 
 manner there is, previous to its being laid therein), 
 did I weep even during those prayers ; yet was I the 
 whole day in secret heavily sad, and with troubled 
 mind prayed Thee, as I could, to heal my sorrow ; yet 
 Thou didst not ; impressing, I believe, upon my mem- 
 ory 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 /JoAavetov, for that it 
 drives sadness from the mind. And this also I con- 
 fess unto Thy mercy, Father of the fatherless? that 
 
 1 I'salui Ixviii. 5.
 
 236 Finds relief in tears. 
 
 I bathed, and was the same as before I bathed. For 
 the bitterness of sorrow could not be sweated out of 
 my heart. Then I slept, and woke lip 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 
 
 i 
 
 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 renewed, 
 And hearts be raised that sink and cower, 
 
 And sorrows be subdued. 
 
 33. And then by little and little I recovered my 
 former thoughts of Thy handmaid, her holy conver- 
 sation towards Thee, her holy tenderness and observ- 
 ance 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 scorn- 
 fully interpreted my weeping. And now, Lord, in 
 writing I confess it unto Thee. Read it who will, 
 and interpret it how he will ; and if he finds sin 
 therein, that I wept my mother for a small portion 
 of an hour (the mother who for the time was dead 
 to mine eyes, who had fry many years wept for me
 
 His prayer in her behalf. 237 
 
 tli at 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 blamable for an 
 earthly feeling, I pour out unto Thee, our God, in 
 behalf of that Thy handmaid, a far different kind of 
 tears, flowing from a spirit shaken by the thoughts of 
 the dangers of every soul that dieth in Adam. 1 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 tha^ from the time that Thou re- 
 generatedst her by baptism, no word issued from her 
 mouth against Thy commandment. 2 Thy Son, the 
 Truth, hath said, Whosoever shatt say unto his 
 brother, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire? 
 And woe be even unto the commendable life of men, 
 if, laying aside mercy, Thou shouldest examine it. 
 But because Thou art not extreme in inquiring after 
 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 ? Oh that men would know themselves to be 
 men ! and that he that glorieth, -would glory in the 
 Lord* 
 
 35. I therefore, O my Praise and my Life, God of 
 iny heart, laying aside for awhile her good deeds, for 
 which I give thanks to Thee with joy, do now be- 
 
 1 1 Cor. XY. 22. 2 Matt. xii. 36. ' 3 Matt. v. 22. 42 Cor. x. 17. 
 18
 
 238 If is prayer in her behalf. 
 
 seech 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 sitting at Thy 
 right hand, maketh intercession to Thee for us. 1 I 
 know that she dealt mercifully, and from her heart 
 forgave her debtors their debts ; do Thou also for- 
 give her debts? whatever she may have contracted in 
 so many years, since the water of salvation. For- 
 give her, Lord, forgive, I beseech Thee; enter not 
 into judgment with her? Let Thy mercy be exalted 
 above TJiy justice,* since Thy words are true, and 
 Thou hast promised mercy unto the merciful;* 
 which thou gavest them to be, Thou icho wilt 
 have mercy on whom Thou wilt have mercy, and 
 wilt have compassion on whom Thou hast had 
 compassion? 
 
 36. And I believe Thou hast already done what I 
 ask; but accept, O Lord, the free-will offerings of my 
 mouthj For she, the day of her dissolution now at 
 hand, took no thought to have her body sumptuously 
 wound up, or embalmed with spices; nor desired she 
 a choice 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 intermission of one day: 
 whence she knew that holy, sacrifice to be dispensed, 
 by which the handwriting that was against us 
 is blotted out ;* through which the enemy was tri- 
 
 1 Rom. viii. 34. 4 James ii. 13. 1 Fs. cxix. 108. 
 
 2 Matt, xviii. 35, vi. 12. 5 Matt, v. 7. 8 Col. ii. 14. 
 8 Ps. cxliii 2. 6 Rom. ix. 15.
 
 His prayer in her behalf. 239 
 
 umphed over, who, summing up our offences, and 
 seeking what to lay to our charge, found nothing in 
 Him^ in whom we conquer. Who shall restore to 
 Him His innocent blood ? Who repay Him the price 
 wherewith He bought us, and so take us from Him? 
 Unto the sacrament of our ransom, Thy handmaid 
 bound her soul by the bond of faith. Let none 
 sever her from Thy protection ; let neither the lion 
 nor the dragon* interpose himself by force or fraud. 
 For she will not answer that she owes nothing, lest 
 she be convicted and seized by the crafty accuser; 
 but she will answer, that her sins are forgiven her 
 by Him, to whom none can repay that price, which 
 He, who owed nothing, paid for us. 
 
 37. May she rest, then, in peace, with the only hus- 
 band she ever had ; whom she obeyed, with patience 
 bringing forth fruit* unto Thee, that she might win 
 him also unto Thee. And inspire, O Lord my God, 
 inspire Thy servants my brethren, Thy sons my mas- 
 ters, whom with voice and heart and pen I serve, 
 that so many as shall read these Confessions, may at 
 Thy altar remember Monica Thy handmaid, with Pat- 
 ricius her husband, by whose bodies Thou broughtest 
 me into this life, I know not how. May they with 
 devout affection remember my parents in this transi- 
 tory light, who are my brethren under Thee our Fa- 
 ther in our Catholic Mother, and my fellow-citizens 
 in that eternal Jerusalem which Thy pilgrim people 
 sigh after from their exodus, even until their return 
 
 1 John xiv. 30. 2 Psalm xci. 13. 3 Luke viii. li.
 
 240 His prayer in her behalf. 
 
 thither. That so, my mother's last request of me 
 may, through my confessions, more than through 
 my prayers, be, through the prayers of many, more 
 abundantly fulfilled to her.
 
 THE TENTH BOOK. 
 
 HAVING IN THE FORMER BOOKS SPOKEN OF HIMSELF BrfFOHB HIS 
 RECEIVING THE RITE OF BAPTISM, IN THIS AUGUSTINi CONJjMSES 
 WHAT HE THEN WAS BUT FIRST, HE INQUIRES BY WHAT FAC- 
 ULTY WE CAN KNOW GOD AT ALL, WHENCE HE ENLARGES ON THK 
 MYSTERIOUS CHARACTER OF THE MEMORY, WHEREIN GOD. BEING 
 MADE KNOWN, DWELLS, BUT WHICH COULD NOT DISCOVER HIM 
 THEN HE EXAMINES HIS OWN TRIALS UNDER TUB TRIPLE WIVISION 
 OF TEMPTATION, " LUST OF THE FLESH, LUST OF THE EYES, AND 
 PRIDE" WHAT CHRISTIAN CONTINENCY PRESCRIBES AS TO EACH 
 CHRIST TUB ONLY MEDIATOR, WHO HEALS AND WILL HKAL ALL 
 INFIRMITIES. 
 
 I. 1. Let me know Thee, O Lord, who knowest 
 me; let me know Thee as lam known. 1 Power of 
 my soul, enter into it, and fit it for Thee, that Thou 
 mayest have and hold it without spot or wrinkle. 3 
 This is my hope, therefore do I speak;* and in this 
 hope do I rejoice, when I rejoice healthfully. Other 
 things of this life are the less to be sorrowed for, the 
 more they are sorrowed for ; and the more to be sor- 
 rowed for, the less men sorrow for them. For behold, 
 Thou lovest the truth* and he that doeth it, cometh to 
 the tight. 5 This would I do in my heart before Thee 
 in confession ; and in my writing, before many wit- 
 nesses. 
 
 1 1 Cor. xiii. 12. 3 Pg. cxvi. 10. John iii. 20. 
 
 2 Eph. v. 27. * Ps. li. 6.
 
 242 Auyustin^s motives 
 
 II. 2. And from Thee, O Lord, unto whose eyes 1 
 the abyss of man's conscience is naked, what could 
 be hidden in me even though I would not confess it? 
 I might hide Thee from me, not me from Thee. But 
 now, since my groaning is witness that I am dis- 
 pleased with myself, Thou shinest out, and art pleas- 
 ing, and beloved, and longed for; that I may be 
 ashamed of myself, and renounce myself, and choose 
 Thee, and neither please Thee nor myself but in 
 Thee. To Thee therefore, O Lord, am I open, what- 
 ever I am ; and for what reason I confess unto Thee, 
 I have said. Nor do I confess with words and sounds 
 of the flesh, but with the words of my soul, and the 
 cry of the thought which Thy ear knoweth. For 
 when I am evil, then to confess to Thee, is nothing 
 else than to be displeased with myself; but when 
 holy, nothing else than to ascribe glory to Thee : be- 
 cause Thou, O Lord, blessest the godly? but first 
 Thou justifiest him when ungodly? My confession 
 then, O my God, in Thy sight, is made silently, and 
 not silently. For in sound, it is silent : in affection, 
 it cries aloud. For neither do I utter anything right 
 unto men, which Thou hast not before heard from 
 me; nor dost Thou hear any such thing from me, 
 which Thou hast not first said unto me. 
 
 III. 3. But what have I to do with men, that 
 they should hear my confessions, as if they could 
 heal all my infirmities* a race curious to know the 
 lives of others, slothful to amend their own ? Why 
 seek they to hear from me what I am, who will not 
 
 1 Heb. iv. 13. 2 Ps. v. 12. 3 R m. w. 6. Fs. ciii. 3.
 
 in publishing his Confessions. 243 
 
 hear from Thee what themselves are? And how 
 know they, when from myself they hear of myself, 
 whether I say true ; seeing no man knows what is in 
 man, but the spirit of man which is in him? 1 But if 
 they hear from Thee of themselves, they cannot say, 
 " The Lord lieth." For what is it to hear from Thee 
 of themselves, but to know themselves ? and who 
 knoweth and saith, "It is false," unless himself lieth ? 
 But because charity believeth all things 3 (that is, 
 among those whom knitting unto itself it maketh 
 one), I also, O Lord, will in such wise confess unto 
 Thee, that men may hear, to whom I cannot demon- 
 strate whether I confess truly ; yet they believe me, 
 whose ears charity openeth unto me. 
 
 4. But do Thou, my inmost Physician, make plain 
 unto me what object I may B gain by doing it. For 
 the confessions of my past sins, which Thou hastybr- 
 given and covered? that Thou mightest bless me in 
 Thee, changing my soul by faith and Thy sacrament, 
 when read and heard, stir up the heart, that it sleep 
 not in despair and say " I cannot," but awake in the 
 love of Thy mercy and the sweetness of Thy grace, 
 whereby whoso is weak is strong, when by it he 
 becomes conscious of his own weakness. And the 
 good delight to hear of the past evils of such as are 
 now freed from them, not because they are evils, but 
 because they have been, and are not. With what 
 object, then, O Lord my God, to whom my conscience 
 daily confesseth, trusting more in the hope of Thy 
 mercy than in her own innocency, with what 
 
 1 1 Cor. ii. 11. 2 1 Cor. xiii. 7. 3 Ps. xxxii. 1
 
 244 Acknowledges their imperfections. 
 
 object, I pray, do I by this book confess to men also 
 in Thy presence what I now am, not what I have 
 been? For that other object, the knowledge of what 
 I have been, I have spoken of and attained. But 
 what I now ana, at the very time of making these 
 confessions, divers desire to know, who have or have 
 not known me, who have heard from me or of me ; 
 but their ear is not at my heart, where I am, what- 
 ever I am. They wish then to hear me confess what 
 I am within ; whither neither their eye, nor ear, nor 
 understanding, can reach ; they wish it, as ready to 
 believe, but will they know? For charity, whereby 
 they are good, telleth them, that in my confessions I 
 lie not ; and she in them, believeth me. 
 
 IV. 5. But for what object would they hear this? 
 Do they desire to joy with me, when they hear how 
 near, by Thy gift, I approach unto Thee? and to 
 pray for me, when they shall hear how much I am 
 held back by my own weight ? To such will I dis- 
 cover myself. For it is no mean object, O Lord my 
 God, that by many, thanks should be given to Thee 
 on our behalf, * and Thou be by many intreated for 
 us. Let the brotherly mind love in me what Thou 
 teachest is to be loved, and lament what Thou teach- 
 est is to be lamented. Let a brotherly, not an alien 
 mind do this, not that of the strange children,whose 
 mouth talketh of vanity, and their right hand is a 
 hand of //>/</ ^>Vy, 2 but that brotherly mind, which, 
 when it approveth, rejoiceth for me, and when it dis- 
 approveth, is sorry for me; because, whether it ap- 
 
 1 1 Cor. ii. 11. ' Psalm cxliv. 1L
 
 Acknowledges their imperfections. 245 
 
 proveth or disapproveth, it loveth me. To such will I 
 discover myself: they will breathe freely at my good 
 deeds, sigh for my ill. My good deeds are Thine ap- 
 pointments, and Thy gifts ; my evil ones are my of- 
 fences, and Thy judgments. Let them breathe freely 
 at the one, sigh at the other ; and let hymns and 
 weeping go up into Thy sight, out of the hearts of my 
 brethren, Thy censers. 1 And do Thou, O Lord, be 
 pleased with the incense of Thy holy temple, have 
 mercy upon me according to TJiy great mercy for 
 Thine own name's sake;* and no ways forsaking 
 what Thou hast begun, perfect my imperfections. 
 
 6. This is the object of my confessions of what I am, 
 not of what I have been, to confess this, not before 
 Thee only, in a secret exultation with trembling? and 
 secret sorrow with hope, but in the ears also of the 
 believing sons of men, sharers of my joy, and part- 
 ners of my mortality, my fellow-citizens, and fellow- 
 pilgrims, who are gone before, or are to follow on, 
 companions of my way. These are Thy servants, my 
 brethren, whom Thou wiliest to be Thy sons ; my mas- 
 ters, whom Thou commandest me to serve, if 3 ! would 
 live with Thee, of Thee. But this Thy Word were 
 little did it only command by speaking, and not go 
 before in performing. This, then, I do in deed and 
 word ; this I do under Thy wings ; in over great 
 peril, were not my soul subdued unto Thee under 
 Thy wings, and my infirmity known unto Thee. I 
 am a little one, but my Father ever liveth, and my 
 Guardian is sufficient for me. For He is the same 
 
 l Rev. viii. 3. 2 p s .. li. l. 3 p g . u. n.
 
 246 Analysis of the love 
 
 who begat me, and defends me; and Thou Thyself 
 art all my good ; Thou, Almighty, who art with me, 
 yea, before I am with Thee. To such, then, whom 
 Thou commandest me to serve, will I discover, not 
 what I have been, but what I now am and what I 
 still am. JSut neither do I judge myself. 1 Thus there- 
 fore I would be heard. 
 
 V. 7. For Thou, Lord, dost judge me : 2 because, 
 although no man knoweth the things of a man, but 
 the spirit of a man which is in him, yet is there 
 something of man, which not even the spirit of 
 man that is in him, itself knoweth? But Thou, 
 Lord, knowest all of him, Who hast made him. 
 Yet I, though in Thy sight I despise myself, and 
 account myself dust and ashes, know something of 
 Thee, which I know not of myself. And, truly, now 
 we see through a glass darkly, not face to face 4 as 
 yet. So long therefore as I be absent from Thee, 5 1 
 am more present with myself than with Thee ; and 
 yet I know Thee that Thou art in no ways tempt- 
 ab.le ; but I know not what temptations I can resist, 
 and whSt ones I cannot. And there is hope, because 
 Thou art faithful, Who will not suffer us to be tempted 
 above that we are able; but wilt with the tempta- 
 tion also make a way to escape, that zee may be able 
 to bear it. 6 I will confess then what I know of my- 
 self, I will confess also what I know not of myself. 
 And that because what I do know of myself, I know 
 by Thy shining upon me ; and what I know not of 
 
 1 1 Cor. iv. 3. 31 Cor. ii. 11. 2 Cor. v. 6. 
 
 2 1 Cor. iv. 3. 4 1 Cor. xiii. 12. 6 l Cor. x. 3.
 
 and knowledge of God. 247 
 
 myself so long know I it not, until my darkness be 
 made as the noonday l in Thy countenance. 
 
 VI. 8. Not with doubting, but with assured con- 
 sciousness, do I love Thee, Lord. Thou hast smitten 
 my heart with Thy word, and I loved Thee. Yea, 
 also heaven, and earth, and all that therein is, behold, 
 on every side they bid me love Thee ; nor cease to 
 say so unto all, that they may be without excuse. 
 But more deeply wilt Thou have mercy on whom 
 Thou wilt have mercy, and wilt have compassion on 
 whom thou hast had compassion : 2 else in deaf ears 
 do the heaven and the earth speak Thy praises. But 
 what do I love, when I love Thee ? not the beauty of 
 bodies, nor the fair harmony of time, nor the bright- 
 ness of the light so gladsome to our eyes, nor sweet 
 melodies of varied songs, nor the fragrant smell of 
 flowers and ointments and spices, not manna and 
 honey, not limbs acceptable to the embracements of 
 flesh. None of these do I love, when I love my God ; 
 and yet I love a kind of light, a kind of melody, a 
 kind of fragrance, a kind of meat, and a kind of em- 
 bracement, when I love my God, the light, the 
 melody, the fragrance, the meat, the embraceinent of 
 the inner man : where there shineth unto my soul, 
 what space cannot contain, and there soundeth, what 
 time beareth not away, and there smelleth, what 
 breathing disperseth not, and there tasteth, what eat- 
 ing diminisheth not, and there clingeth, what satiety 
 divorceth not. This is it which I love when I love 
 my God. 
 
 1 Isa. Iri'ii. 10. 2 Rom. i. 20, ix. 15.
 
 248 Do we know God by the senses? 
 
 9. And what is this ? I asked the earth, and it an- 
 swered me, "I am not He;" and whatsoever are in 
 it confessed the same. I asked the sea and the 
 deeps, and the living creeping things, and they an- 
 swered, "We are not thy God, seek above us." I 
 asked the moving air ; and the whole air with his in- 
 habitants answered, "Anaxiiuenes was deceived, I . 
 am not God." I asked the heavens, sun, moon, stars, 
 "Kor (say they) are we the God whom thou seek- 
 est." And I replied unto all the things which en- 
 compass the door of my flesh : " Ye have told me of 
 my God, that ye are not He ; tell me something of 
 Him." And they cried out with a loud voice, " He 
 made us." My questioning them, was my thoughts 
 on them : and their form of beauty gave the answer. 
 And I turned myself unto myself, and said to my- 
 self, "Who art thou?" And I answered, "A man." 
 And behold, in me there present themselves to me 
 soul and body, one without, the other within. By 
 which of these ought I to seek my God ? I had 
 sought Him in the body from earth to heaven, so far 
 as I could send messengers, the beams of mine eyes. 
 But the better is the inner, for to it as presiding and 
 judging, all the bodily messengers repoi'ted the an- 
 swers of heaven and earth, and all things therein, 
 who said, "We are not God, but He made us." 
 These things did my inner man know by the min- 
 istry of the outer : I, the inner, knew them ; I, the 
 mind, through the senses of my body. I asked the 
 whole frame of the world about my God ; and it an- 
 swered me, "I am not He, but He made me."
 
 Do we know God by the senses? 249 
 
 10. Is not this corporeal figure apparent to all 
 whose senses are perfect ? why then speaks it not 
 the same to all? Animals small and great see it, 
 but they cannot interrogate it : because no reason is 
 set over their senses to judge on what they report. 
 But men can interrogate, so that the invisible things 
 of God are clearly seen, being understood by the 
 things that are made y 1 only, that by love of them, 
 they are made subject unto them, and subjects can- 
 not judge. Things do not answer, unless the ques- 
 tioners can judge : they do not, however, change 
 their voice (i. e., their appearance), so as to appear 
 one way to this man, another way to that ; but ap- 
 pearing the same way to both, are dumb to this, 
 speak to that ; yea, rather speak to all ; but they only 
 understand, who compare the voice received from 
 without, with the truth within. For truth saith unto 
 me, " Neither heaven, nor earth, nor any other body, 
 is thy God." And the very nature of created things 
 saitli to him that seeth them : " They are a mass ; a 
 mass is less in a part than in the whole." Now, O 
 my soul (to thee I speak), thou art my better part : 
 for thou quickenest the mass of my body, giving it 
 life, which no body can give to a body : but thy God 
 is even unto thee the Life of thy life. 
 
 VII. 11. What then do I love, when I love my 
 God ? Who is lie so high above my soul ? Yet by 
 my very soul will I ascend to Him. I will pass be- 
 yond that vital power whereby I am united to my 
 body, filling its whole frame with life. Nor can I by 
 
 1 Rom. i. 20.
 
 250 Do we Tcnow God by the senses? 
 
 that power find my God ; for so, horse and mule that 
 have no understanding 1 might find Him ; seeing it 
 is the same power, whereby even their bodies live. 
 But another power there is, not that only whereby 1 
 animate (vivifico), but that too whereby I imbue 
 Avith sense (sensifico), my flesh which the Lord hath 
 framed for me : commanding the eye not to hear, 
 and the ear not to see ; but the eye, to see, and the 
 ear, to hear ; and to the other senses severally, what 
 is to each their own peculiar seats and offices; 
 which, being divers, I the one mind, do through 
 them act. I will pass beyond this sensational power 
 also ; for this also have the horse and mule, for they 
 also perceive through the body. 
 
 VIII. 12. I will pass then beyond this power of 
 my nature also, rising by degrees unto Him, who 
 made me. And I come to the fields and spacious 
 palaces of my memory, 2 where are the treasures of 
 innumerable images, brought into it from things of 
 all sorts, perceived by the senses. There is stored 
 up whatsoever besides we think, either by enlarging 
 or diminishing, or any other way varying those things 
 which the sense hath come to ; and whatever else 
 hath been committed and laid .up, which forgetful- 
 ness hath not yet swallowed up and buried. When 
 
 1 Psalm xxxii. 9. 
 
 2 By " memory," in this analysis of the mental operations, which fol- 
 lows, Augustine includes what goes under the name of " reflective con- 
 sciousness," in the nomenclature of modern philosophy; and in many 
 places his meaning will be clearer, if the term ' consciousness" or " self- 
 consciousness," and sometimes the word luiuci " itieli, be substituted 
 for " memory." ED.
 
 or by memory? 251 
 
 I enter there, I require what I will to be brought 
 forth, and something instantly comes ; others must 
 be longer sought after, which are fetched, as it were, 
 out of some inner receptacle ; others rush out in 
 troops, and while one thing is desired and required, 
 they start forth, as who should say, "Is it perchance 
 I ?" These I drive away with the hand of my heart, 
 from the face of my remembrance ; until what I wish 
 for be unveiled, and appear in sight, out of its secret 
 place. Other things come up readily, in unbroken 
 order, as they are called for ; those in front making 
 way for the following ; and as they make way, they 
 are hidden from sight, ready to come, when I will. 
 All which takes place when I relate a thing memor- 
 iter. 
 
 13. And all things are preserved distinctly and 
 under general heads, each having entered by its own 
 avenue : as light, and all colors and forms of bodies, 
 by the eyes ; by the ears, all sorts of sounds ; all 
 smells, by the avenue of the nostrils ; all tastes, by 
 the mouth ; and by the sensation of the whole body, 
 what is hard or soft, hot or cold, smooth or rugged, 
 heavy or light, either outwardly or inwardly to the 
 body. All these doth that great harbor of the mem- 
 ory receive in her numberless secret and inexpres- 
 sible windings, to be forthcoming, and brought out at 
 need ; each entering in by his own gate, and there 
 laid up. Nor yet do the things themselves enter in ; 
 only the images of the things perceived are there in 
 readiness, for thought to recall. But how these im- 
 ages are formed, who can tell, though it doth plainly
 
 252 Notices the wonderful 
 
 appear by which sense each hath been brought in 
 and stored up ? For even while I dwell in darkness 
 and silence, in my memory I can produce colors, if I 
 will, and discern betwixt black and white, and what 
 others I will : nor do sounds break in, and disturb 
 the image drawn in by my 'eyes, which I am review- 
 ing, though they also are there, lying dormant, and 
 laid up, as it were, apart. For these too I call for, 
 and forthwith they appear. And though my tongue 
 be still, and my throat mute, I can sing as much as I 
 will ; nor do those images of colors, which notwith- 
 standing be there, intrude themselves and interrupt, 
 when another store is called for, which flowed in by 
 the ears. So the other things, piled in and up by the 
 other senses, I recall at my pleasure. Yea, I discrim- 
 inate the breath of lilies from violets, though smell- 
 ing nothing ; and I prefer honey to sweet wine, 
 smooth before rugged, at the time neither tasting, 
 nor handling, but remembering only. 
 
 14. These things do I within, in that vast court 
 of my memory. For there, are present with me, 
 heaven, earth, sea, and whatever I could think on 
 therein, besides what I have forgotten. There, also, 
 meet I with myself, and recall myself, and when, 
 where, and what I have done, and under what feel- 
 ings. There, is all which I remember, either on my 
 own experience, or others' testimony. Out of the 
 same store do I myself continually combine with the 
 past fresh likenesses of things, which I have expe- 
 rienced, have believed : and thence again infer fu- 
 ture actions, events and hopes, and all these again I
 
 power of memory. 253 
 
 reflect on, as present. "I will do this or that," say I 
 to myself, in that great receptacle of my mind, stored 
 with the images of things so many and so great, 
 " and this or that will follow." " Oh that this or that 
 might be !" " God avert this or that ! " So speak I 
 to myself: and when I speak, the images of all I 
 speak of are present, out of the same treasury of 
 memory ; nor would I speak of any thereof, were the 
 images wanting. 
 
 15. Great is this force of memory, excessive great, 
 
 my God ! a large and boundless chamber ! who 
 ever sounded the bottom thereof? yet is this a 
 power of mine, and belongs unto my nature ; nor do 
 
 1 myself comprehend all that I am. Therefore is 
 the mind too strait to contain itself. And where 
 should that be, which it containeth not of itself? Is 
 it without it, and not within ? how then doth it not 
 comprehend itself? A wonderful admiration sur- 
 prises me, amazement seizes me upon this. And 
 men go abroad to admire the heights of mountains, 
 the mighty billows of the sea, the broad tides of 
 rivers, the compass of the ocean, and the circuits of 
 the stars, and pass themselves by ; nor wonder, that 
 when I spaKe of all these things, I did not see them 
 with mine eyes, yet could not have spoken of them, 
 xinless I then actually saw the mountains, billows, 
 rivers, stars, which I had seen, and that ocean which 
 I believe to be, inwardly in my memory, and that, too, 
 with the same vast spaces between, as if I saw them 
 abroad. Yet did not I by seeing draw them into 
 myself, when with mine eyes I actually beheld them ;
 
 254 How it conceives some things 
 
 nor are they themselves with me, but their images 
 only. And I know by what sense of the body each 
 was impressed upon me. 
 
 IX. 16. Yet not these alone does the unmeasur- 
 able capacity of my memory retain. Here, also, are 
 all those things that have been learnt from the 
 liberal sciences, and have not yet fallen out of the 
 mind ; removed as it were to some inner place, 
 which is yet no place : nor are they the images 
 thereof, but the very things themselves. For, what 
 literature is, what the art of disputing, how many 
 kinds of logical questions there be, whatsoever of 
 these things I know, does not exist in my memory, in 
 such manner as that I have taken in the image and 
 left out the thing, or that it should have sounded 
 and passed away like a voice fixed on the ear by that 
 impress whereby it might be recalled, as if it sounded, 
 when it no longer sounded ; or as a smell while it 
 passes and evaporates into air affects the sense of 
 smell, whence it conveys into the memoiy an image 
 of itself, which remembering, we renew ; or as meat, 
 which verily in the belly hath now no taste, and yet 
 in the memory still in a manner tasteth ; or as any- 
 thing which the body by touch perceiveth, and 
 which when removed from us, the memory still con- 
 ceives. For such things as these latter are not 
 themselves transmitted into the memory, but their 
 images only are with an admirable swiftness caught 
 up, and stored as it were in wondrous cabinets, and 
 thence wonderfully by the act of remembering, 
 brought forth.
 
 without the aid of the senses. 255 
 
 X. 17. But now when I hear that there be three 
 kinds of questions : " Whether the thing be ? what 
 it is? of what kind it is?" I do indeed hold the 
 images of the sounds of which those words be com- 
 posed, and know that those sounds passed with a 
 noise through the air, and now are not. But the 
 things themselves which are signified by those sounds, 
 I never reached with any sense of my body, nor 
 ever discerned them otherwise than in my mind; 
 yet in my memory have I laid up not their images, 
 but themselves. Which how they entered into me, 
 let them say if they can ; for I have gone over all 
 the avenues of my flesh, but cannot find any by 
 which they entered. For the eyes say, "If those 
 images were colored, we reported of them." The 
 ears say, "If they sound, we gave knowledge of 
 them." The nostrils say, " If they smell, they passed 
 by us." The taste says, " Unless they have a savor, 
 ask me not." The touch says, " If it have not size, I 
 handled it not ; if I handled it not, I gave no notice 
 of it." Whence and how entered these things into 
 my memory ? I know not how. For when I learned 
 them, I gave not credit to another man's mind, but 
 recognized them in mine ; and approving them for 
 true, I commended them to it, laying them up as it 
 were, whence I might bring them forth when I 
 willed. In my heart then they were, even before I 
 learned them, but in my memory they were not. 
 Where then ? or wherefore, when they were spoken, 
 did I acknowledge them, and said, " So is it, it is 
 true," unless that they were already in the memory,
 
 2.36 How it conceives some things 
 
 but so thrown back and buried as it were in deeper 
 recesses, that had not the suggestion of another 
 drawn ^them forth, I had perchance been unable to 
 conceive of them ? 
 
 XI. 18. Wherefore we find, that to learn these 
 things whereof we imbibe not the images by our 
 senses, but perceive them within by themselves, as 
 they are, without images, is nothing else but by reflec- 
 tion to bring together those things which the mem- 
 ory did before contain at random and unarranged, 
 and, by marking, to take care that they be laid up at 
 hand as it were in that same memory, where before 
 they lay unknown, scattered and neglected, and so 
 readily occur to the mind, familiarized to them. 
 And how many things of this kind does my memory 
 carry which have been already found out, and, as I 
 said, placed as it were at hand, which we are said to 
 have learned and come to know ; which were I for 
 some short space of time to cease to call to mind, 
 they are again so buried, and glide back, as it were, 
 into the deeper recesses, that they must again, as if 
 new, be thought out thence, for other abode they 
 have none : but they must be drawn together again, 
 that they may be known ; that is to say, they must 
 as it were be collected together from their dis- 
 persion : whence the word " cogitation " is derived. 
 For cogo (collect) and cogito (re-collect) have the 
 same relation to each other as ago and agito, facio 
 andfactito. But the mind hath appropriated to it- 
 self this word (cogitation), so that, not what is " col- 
 lected" anyhow, but what is "re-collected," i. e n
 
 without the aid of tJie senses. 
 
 brought together, in the mind, is properly said to 
 be cogitated, or thought upon. 
 
 XII. 19. The memory containeth, also, innumer- 
 able reasons and laws of numbers and dimensions, 
 none of which hath any bodily sense impressed ; see- 
 ing they have neither color, nor sound, nor taste, nor 
 smell, nor touch. I have heard the sound of the 
 words whereby when discussed they are denoted : 
 but the sounds are other than the things. For the 
 sounds are other in Greek than in Latin : but the 
 tilings are neither Greek, nor Latin, nor any other 
 language. I have seen the lines of architects, the 
 very finest, like a spider's thread ; but those reasons 
 and laws, above mentioned, are still different ; they are 
 not the images of those lines which the eye of flesh 
 showed me : he knoweth them, whosoever without 
 any conception whatsoever of a body, recognizes 
 them within himself. I have perceived also the num- 
 bers with which we number all the senses of my 
 body; but those invisible numbers wherewith we 
 number, are different from the visible things num- 
 bered ; nor are they the images of these, and there- 
 fore they absolutely are. Let him who seeth them 
 not, deride me for saying these things, and I will pity 
 him, while he derides me. 
 
 XIII. 20. All these things I remember, and how I 
 learnt them I remember. Many things also most 
 falsely objected against them have I heard, and re- 
 member ; which though they be false, yet is it not 
 false that I remember them ; and I remember also 
 that I have discerned betwixt those truths and these
 
 258 H&ic it represents 
 
 falsehoods objected to them. And I perceive that 
 the present discerning of these things is different 
 from remembering that I oftentimes discerned them, 
 when I often thought upon them. I remember 
 then to have often understood these things^; and 
 what I now discern and understand, I lay up in my 
 memory, that hereafter I may remember that I un- 
 derstood it now. So then I remember also to have 
 remembered ; as, if hereafter I shall call to remem- 
 brance that I have now been able to remember these 
 things, by the force of memory shall I call it to re- 
 membrance. 
 
 XIV. 21. The same memory contains also the af- 
 fections of my mind, not in the same manner that my 
 mind itself contains them, when it feels them ; bnt 
 far otherwise, according to a power of its own. For 
 without rejoicing I remember myself to have joyed ; 
 and without sorrow do I recollect my past sorrow. 
 And that I once feared, I review without fear ; and 
 without desire call to mind a past desire. Some- 
 times, on the contrary, with joy do I remember my 
 fore-past sorrow, and with sorrow, joy. Which is not 
 wonderful, as to the body ; for mind is one thing, 
 body another. If I therefore with joy remember 
 some past pain of the body, it is not so wonderful. 
 But now seeing this very memory itself is mind (for 
 when we give a thing in charge, to be kept in mem- 
 ory, we say, "See that you keep it in mind;" and 
 when we forget, we say, "It did not come to my 
 mind," and, " It slipped out of my mind," calling the 
 memory itself the mind); this being so, how is it,
 
 abstract truths, and feelings. 259 
 
 that when with joy I remember my past sorrow, the 
 mind hath joy, the memory hath sorrow ; the mind 
 upon the joyfulness which is in it, is joyful, yet the 
 memory upon the sadness which is in it, is not sad ? 
 Does the memory perchance not belong to the mind ? 
 Who will say so ? The memory then is, as it were, 
 the belly of the mind, and joy and sadness, like sweet 
 and bitter food ; which, when committed to the mem- 
 ory, are, as it were, passed into the belly, where they 
 may be stowed, but cannot taste. Ridiculous it is to 
 imagine these to be alike ; and yet are they not ut- 
 terly unlike. 
 
 22. But, behold, out of my memory I bring it, 
 when I say there be four perturbations of the mind : 
 desire, joy, fear, sorrow ; and whatsoever I can dis- 
 pute thereon, by dividing each into its subordinate 
 species, and by defining it, in my memory find I what 
 to say, and thence do I bring it : yet am I not dis- 
 turbed by any of these perturbations, when by call*- 
 ing them to mind, I remember them ; yea, and be- 
 fore I recalled and brought them back, they were 
 there ; and therefore could they, by recollection, 
 thence be brought. Perchance, then, as meat is by 
 chewing the cud brought up out of the belly, so by 
 recollection, these out of the memory. Why then 
 does not the disputer, thus recollecting, taste in the 
 mouth of his musing the sweetness of joy, or the bit- 
 terness of sorrow ? Is the comparison unlike in this 
 respect, because not in all respects like ? For who 
 would willingly speak thereof, if, so oft as we name 
 grief or fear, we should be compelled to be sad or
 
 260 Sometimes memory recalls the thin fa 
 
 fearful ? And yet could we not speak of them, did 
 we not find in our memory, not only the sounds of 
 the names according to the images impressed by the 
 senses of the body, but notions of the very things 
 themselves which we never received by any avenue 
 of the body, but which the mind itself perceiving by 
 the experience of its own passions, committed to the 
 memory, or the memory of itself retained, without 
 being committed unto it. 
 
 XV. 23. But whether by images or no, who can 
 readily say ? Thus, I name a stone, I name the sun, 
 the things themselves not being present to my senses, 
 but their images to my memory. I name a bodily 
 pain, yet it is not present with me, when nothing 
 aches : yet unless its image were present in my mem- 
 ory, I should not know what to say thereof, nor in dis- 
 coursing discern pain from pleasure. I name bodily 
 health ; being sound in body, the thing itself is pres- 
 ent with me ; yet, unless its image also were present 
 in my memory, I could by no means recall what the 
 sound of this name should signify. Nor would the 
 sick, when health were named, recognize what were 
 spoken, tinless the same image were by- the force of 
 memory retained, although the thing itself were ab- 
 sent from the body. I name numbers whereby we 
 number ; and not their images, but themselves are 
 present in ray memory. I name the image. of the 
 sun, and that image is present in my memory. For I 
 recall not the image of its image, but the image itself 
 is present to me, calling it to mind. I name memory, 
 and I recognize what I name. And where do I reo-
 
 sometimes tfie image of it. 261 
 
 ognize it, but in the memory itself? Is it also pres- 
 ent to itself by its image, and not by itself? 
 
 XVI. 24. How is it, when I name forgetfulness, 
 and withal recognize what I name ? whence should I 
 recognize it, did I not remember it ? I speak not of 
 the sound of the name, but of the tiling which it sig- 
 nifies : which if I had forgotten, I could not recognize 
 what that sound signifies. When then I remember 
 memory, memory itself is, through itself, present 
 with itself: but when I remember forgetfulness, there 
 are present both rcemory and forgetfulness ; memory 
 whereby I remember, forgetfulness which I remem- 
 ber. But what is forgetfulness, but the privation of 
 memory ? How then is it present that I remember 
 it, since when present I cannot remember ? But if 
 what we remember we hold it in memory, yet, unless 
 we did remember forgetfulness, we could never, at 
 the hearing of the name, recognize the thing thereby 
 signified, then forgetfulness is retained by memory. 
 Present then it is, that we forget not, and being so, 
 we forget. It is to be understood from this, that for- 
 getfulness, when we remember it, is not present to 
 the memory by itself, but by its image : because if it 
 were present by itself, it would not cause us to re- 
 member, but to forget. Who now shall search out 
 this ? who shall comprehend how it is ? 
 
 25 Lord, I, truly, toil therein, yea and toil in my- 
 self; I am become a heavy soil requiring over-much 
 sweat of the brow. For we are not now searching 
 out the regions of heaven, or measuring the distances 
 of the stars, or inquiring the balancings of the earth.
 
 2G2 If the knowledge of ourselves be so difficult, 
 
 It is I myself who remember ; I, the mind. It is not 
 so wonderful, if what I myself am not, be far from 
 me. But what is nearer to me than myself? And 
 lo ! the force of mine own memory is not understood 
 by me ; though I cannot so much as name myself 
 without it. For what shall I say, when it is clear to 
 me that I remember forgetfulness ? Shall I say that 
 that is not in my memory, which I remember ? or 
 shall I say that forgetfulness is for this purpose in my 
 memory, that I might not forget ? Both were most 
 absurd. What third way is there ? How can I say 
 that the image of forgetfulness is retained by my 
 memory, not forgetfulness itself, when I remember 
 it ? How could I say this either, seeing that when 
 the image of anything is impressed on the memory, 
 the thing itself must needs be first present, whence 
 that image may be impressed ? For thus do I re- 
 member Carthage, thus all places where I have been, 
 thus men's faces whom I have seen, and things re- 
 ported by the other senses ; thus the health. or sick- 
 ness of the body. For when these things were pres- 
 ent, my memory received from them images, which, 
 being present with me, I might look on and bring 
 back in my mind, when I remembered them in their 
 absence. If, then, this forgetfulness is retained in the 
 memory through its image, not through itself, then 
 plainly itself was once present, that its image might 
 be taken. But when it was present, how did it write 
 its image in the memory, seeing that forgetfulness by 
 its presence effaces even what it finds already noted ? 
 And yet, in whatever way, although that way be past
 
 much more the knowledge of God. 263 
 
 conceiving and explaining, yet certain am I that I 
 remember forgetfulness itself also, whereby what we 
 remember is effaced. 
 
 XVII. 26. Great is the power of memory, a fear- 
 ful thing, O my God, a deep and boundless manifold- 
 ness ; and this thing is the mind, and this am I my- 
 self. What am I then, O my God ? What nature 
 am I ? A life various and manifold, and exceeding 
 immense. Behold in the plains, and caves, and cav- 
 erns of my memory, innumerable and innumerably 
 full of innumerable kinds of things, either through 
 images, as all bodies ; or by actual presence, as the 
 arts ; or by certain notions or impressions, as the af- 
 fections of the mind, which, even when the mind 
 doth not feel, the memory retaineth, while yet what- 
 soever is in the memory, is also in the mind, over 
 all these do I run, I fly ; I dive on this side and on 
 that, as far as I can, and there is no end. So great is 
 the force of memory, so great the force of life, even 
 in the mortal life of man. What shall I do then, O 
 Thou my true life, my God ? I will pass even beyond 
 this power of mine which is called memory : yea, I 
 will pass beyond it, that I may approach unto Thee, 
 O sweet Light. What sayest Thou to me ? See, I 
 am mounting up through my mind towards Thee who 
 abidest above me. Yea, I now will pass beyond this 
 power of mine which is called memory, desirous to 
 arrive at Thee, by Whom Thou mayest be arrived 
 at ; and to cleave unto Thee, by Whom one may 
 cleave unto Thee. For even beasts and birds have 
 memory, else could they not return to their dens and
 
 264 Memory reaches not to God. 
 
 nests, nor many other things they are used unto ; nor 
 indeed could they be used to anything, but by mem- 
 ory. I will pass then beyond memory also, that I 
 may arrive at Him who hath separated me from tho 
 four-footed beasts, and made me wiser than the fowls 
 of the air ; I will pass beyond memory also, and where 
 shall I find Thee, Thou truly good and certain sweet- 
 ness ? And where shall I find .Thee ? If I find Thee 
 without my memory, then do I not retain Thee within 
 my memory. And how shall I find Thee, if I remem- 
 ber Thee not ? 
 
 XVIII. 27. For the woman that had lost her 
 groat, and sought it with a light, unless she had re- 
 membered it, she had never found it. 1 For when it 
 was found, whence should she know whether it were 
 the same, unless she remembered it ? I remember to 
 have sought and found many a thing ; and this I 
 thereby kno'w, that when I was seeking any of them, 
 and was asked, "Is this it?" "Is that it?" so long 
 
 * o 
 
 said I "No," until that were offered me which I 
 sought. But had I not remembered it (whatever it 
 were), though it were offered me, yet should I not 
 find it, because I could not recognize it. And so it 
 ever is, when \ve seek and find any lost thing. Not- 
 withstanding, when anything is by chance lost from 
 the sight, not from the memory (as any visible body), 
 yet its image is still retained within, and it is sought 
 until it be restored to sight ; and when it is found, it 
 is recognized by the image which is within ; nor do 
 we say that we have found what was lost, unless we 
 
 l Luke xv. 8.
 
 Memory reaches not to God. 265 
 
 recognize it ; nor can we recognize it, unless we re- 
 member it. It was lost to the eyes, but retained in 
 the memory. 
 
 XIX. 28. But how is it when the memory itself 
 loses anything, as happens when we forget, and seek 
 that we may recollect ? "Where in the end do we 
 search, but in the very memory itself? and there, if 
 one thing be perchance offered instead of another, we 
 reject it, until what we seek meets us ; and when it 
 doth, we say, " This is it ; " which we should not, un- 
 less we recognized it, nor recognize it unless we re- 
 membered it. Certainly then we had forgotten it. 
 Or, had not the whole escaped us, but by the part 
 whereof we had hold, was the lost part sought for ; 
 in that the memory felt that it did not carry on to- 
 gether all which it was wont, and limping, as it were, 
 from the curtailment of its ancient habit, demanded 
 the restoration of what it had missed? For instance, 
 if we see or think of some one known to us, and hav- 
 ing forgotten his name, try to recover it, every thing 
 that does not connect itself therewith, because it was 
 not wont to be thought upon together with him, is 
 rejected, until that presents itself, whereon the knowl- 
 edge reposes equably as its wonted object. And 
 whence does this present itself but out of the mem- 
 ory itself? for even when we recognize it, on being 
 reminded by another, it is thence it comes. For we 
 do not believe it as something new, but, upon recollec- 
 tion, allow that what was mentioned is the right thing. 
 But were it utterly blotted out of the mind, we should 
 not remember it, even when reminded. For we have
 
 266 Some things perceived by the mind, 
 
 not as yet utterly forgotten that which we remember 
 ourselves to have forgotten. What, then, we have 
 utterly forgotten and lost, we cannot even seek after. 
 XX. 29. How then do I seek Thee, O Lord ? 
 For when I seek Thee, my God, I seek a happy life. 
 I will seek Thee, that my soul may live. For my 
 body liveth by my soul ; and my soul by Thee. How 
 then do I seek a happy life, seeing I have it not, until 
 I can actually say [in heaven], where I ought to say 
 it, " It is enough ? " How seek I it ? By remem- 
 brance, as though I had forgotten it, remembering 
 that I had forgotten it ? Or, desiring to learn it as 
 a thing unknown, either never having known, or so 
 forgotten it as not even to remember that I had for- 
 gotten it ? Is not a happy life what all will, and no 
 one altogether wills it not ? Where have they known 
 it, that they so will it ? where seen it, that they so 
 love it ? Truly we have it, how, I know not. Yea, 
 there is another way, wherein when one hath it, then 
 is he happy ; and there are, who are blessed in hope. 
 These have it in a lower kind, than they who have it 
 in very deed ; yet are they better off than such as are 
 happy neither in deed, nor in hope. Yet even these 
 last, had they it not in some sort, would not so will to 
 be happy, which that they do will, is most certain. 
 They have known it then, I know not how, and so 
 have it by some sort of knowledge, what, I know not, 
 and am perplexed whether it be in the memory, which 
 if it be, then we have been happy once ; whether all 
 severally, or in that man who first sinned, in whom
 
 without any experience of them. 2G7 
 
 also we all died* and from whom we are all born 
 with misery, I now inquire not ; but only whether the 
 happy life be in the memory. For neither should we 
 love it did we not know it. We hear the name, and 
 we all confess that we desire the thing ; for we are 
 not delighted with the mere sound. For when a 
 Greek hears it in Latin, he is not delighted, not know- 
 ing what is spoken ; but we Latins are delighted, as 
 would he too, if he heard it in Greek ; because the 
 thing itself is neither Greek nor Latin, which Greeks 
 and Latins, and men of all other tongues, long for so 
 earnestly. Known therefore it is to all, for could they 
 with one voice be asked, " would they be happy ? " 
 they would answer without doubt, " they would." 
 And this could not be, unless the thing itself, whereof 
 it is the name, were retained in their memory. 
 
 XXI. 30. But is it so, as one remembers Carthage 
 who hath seen it ? No. For a happy life is not seen 
 with the eye, because it hath not a body. As we re- 
 member numbers, then ? No. For these he that hath 
 in his knowledge, seeks not further to attain unto ; but 
 a happy life we have in our knowledge, and therefore 
 love it, and still desire to attain it, that we may be 
 happy. As we remember eloquence, then? No. 
 For although upon hearing this name also, some call 
 to mind the thing, who yet are not eloquent, and 
 many who desire to be so, whence it appears that it is 
 in their knowledge ; yet these have by their bodily 
 senses observed others to be eloquent, and been de- 
 lighted, and desired to be the like (though indeed 
 
 1 1 Cor. xv. 22.
 
 2G8 All Ion g for happiness^ 
 
 they would not be delighted but for some inward 
 knowledge thereof, nor wish to be the like, unless they 
 were thus delighted) ; whereas a happy life, we do by 
 no bodily sense experience in others. As then we re- 
 member joy ? Perchance ; for, my joy I remember, 
 even when sad, as a happy life, when unhappy ; nor 
 did I ever with bodily sense see, hear, smell, taste, or 
 touch my joy ; but I experienced it in my mind, 
 when I rejoiced; and the knowledge of it clave to my 
 memory, so that I can recall it with disgust sometimes, 
 at others with longing, according to the nature of the 
 things, wherein I remember myself to have joyed. 
 For even from foul things have I been immersed in a 
 sort of joy ; which now recalling, I detest and exe- 
 crate; otherwhiles from good and honest things, 
 which I now recall with longing, although perchance 
 no longer present ; and therefore with sadness I recall 
 former joy. 
 
 81. Where then and when did I experience my 
 happy life, that I should remember, and love and long 
 for it ? Nor is it I alone, or some few besides, but we 
 all would fain be happy ; which, unless by some cer- 
 tain knowledge we knew, we should not with so cer- 
 tain a will desire. But how is this, that if two men 
 be asked whether they would go to the wars, one, per- 
 chance would answer that he would, the other, that 
 he would not ; but if they were asked whether they 
 would be happy, both -would instantly without any 
 doubting say they would ; and for no other reason 
 would the one go to the wars, and the other not, but 
 to be happy. Is it perchance, that as one looks for his
 
 thouyh all do not knmc what happiness is. 2 GO 
 
 joy in this thing, another in that, all agree in their de- 
 sire of being happy, as they would agree, if they were 
 asked, that they wished to have joy, and this joy they 
 call a happy life ? Although, then, one obtains the 
 joy by one means, another by another, all have one 
 end, which they strive to attain, namely, joy. Which 
 being a thing which all must say they have experi- 
 enced, it is therefore found in the memory, and recog- 
 nized whenever the name of a happy life is mentioned. 
 
 XXII. 32. Far be it, Lord, far be it from the 
 heart of Thy servant who here confesseth unto Thee, 
 far be it, that, be the joy what it may, I should 
 therefore think myself happy. For there is a joy 
 which is not given to the ungodly* but to those who 
 love Thee for Thine own sake, whose joy Thou Thy- 
 self art. And this is the happy life, to rejoice to Thee,** 
 of Thee, for Thee ; this is it, and there is no other. 
 For they who think there is another, pursue some 
 other, and not the true joy. Yet is not their will 
 turned away from some semblance of joy. 
 
 XXII. 33. It is not certain, then, that all wish to 
 be happy, inasmuch as they who wish not to joy in 
 Thee, which is the only happy life, do not truly desire 
 the happy life. Or do all men desire this, but because 
 the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit 
 af/ainst the flesh, that they cannot do what they 
 would? they fall upon that which they can, and are con- 
 tent therewith ; because, what they are not able to do, 
 they do not will so strongly, as would suffice to make 
 them able ? For if I ask any one had he rather joy 
 
 1 Isaiah xlviii. 22. 2 Gal. v. 17. 
 
 20
 
 270 God reveals Himself to 
 
 in truth or in falsehood ? he will as little hesitate to 
 say " in the truth," as to say that, "he desires to be 
 happy," for a happy life is joy in the truth : for this 
 is a joying in Thee, Who art the Trutli^ O God my 
 light, health of my countenance, my God. 2 This is the 
 genuinely happy life which all desire ; this life which 
 alone is happy, all desire ; to joy in the truth all de- 
 sire. I have met with many that would deceive ; none 
 who would be deceived. Where, then, did they know 
 this happy life, save where they knew the truth also ? 
 For they love it since they would not be deceived. 
 And when they love a happy life, which is no other 
 than joying in the truth, then also do they love the 
 truth ; which yet they would not love, were there not 
 some notice of it in their memory. Why, then, joy 
 hey not in ft ? why are they not happy ? because 
 they are more strongly taken up with other things 
 which have more power to make them miserable, than 
 that which they so faintly remember to make them 
 happy. For there is yet a little light in men ; let them 
 walk, let them walk, that the darkness overtake them 
 not. 3 
 
 34. But why doth " truth generate hatred," and the 
 man of thine,* preaching the truth, become an enemy 
 to them, while yet a happy life is loved, which is nothing 
 else but joying in the truth ? Why is it, unless it be 
 that truth is loved in such a way, that they who love 
 anything else, would gladly have that which they love 
 to be the truth ; and because they do not wish to be 
 
 1 John xiv. 6. 3 John xii. 35. 
 
 2 Ps. xxvii. 1; xlii. 11. * John viii. 40.
 
 those who really seek Him. 271 
 
 deceived, would not be convinced that they are so ? 
 Therefore do they hate the truth for that thing's sake, 
 which they love instead of the truth. They love truth 
 Avhen she enlightens, they hate her when she reproves. 
 For since they would not be deceived, and would de- 
 ceive, they love her when she discovers herself unto 
 them, and hate her when she discovers them. Whence 
 she shall so repay them, that they who would not be 
 made manifest l by her^ she both against their will 
 makes manifest, and herself becomes not manifest 
 unto them. Thus, thus, yea, thus, doth the mind of 
 man, blind and sick, foul and ill-favored, wish to be 
 hidden, but wished not that aught should be hidden 
 from it. But the contrary is requited it, that itself 
 should not be hidden from the Truth ; but the Truth 
 is hid from it. Yet even thus miserable, it had rather 
 joy in truths than in falsehoods. Happy then will it 
 be, when, no distraction interposing, it shall joy in 
 that only Truth, by Whom all things are true. 
 
 XXIV. 35. See what a space I have gone over in 
 my memory seeking Thee, O Lord, and I have not 
 found Thee beyond or outside of it. Nor have I 
 found anything concerning Thee, but what I have kept 
 in memory ever since I learnt Thee. For since I 
 learnt Thee, I have not forgotten Thee. For where I 
 found Truth, there found I my God, the Truth Itself ; 
 which since I learnt, I have not forgotten. Since then 
 I learned Thee, Thou residest in my memory; and 
 there do I find Thee, when I call Thee to remembrance, 
 and delight in Thee. These be my holy delights, 
 
 l Eph. v. 18.
 
 272 God reveals Himself to 
 
 which Thou hast given me in Thy mercy, having re- 
 gard to my poverty. 
 
 XXV. 36. But where in my memory residest 
 Thou, O Lord, where residest Thou there? what 
 manner of lodging hast Thou framed for Thee ? what 
 manner of sanctuary hast Thou builded for Thee ? 
 Thou hast given this honor to my memory, to reside 
 in it ; but in what quarter of it Thou residest, that I 
 am considering. For in thinking on Thee, I passed 
 beyond such parts of it as the beasts also have, for I 
 found Thee not there among the images of corporeal 
 things : and I came to those parts to which I commit- 
 ted the affections of my mind, nor found Thee there. 
 And I entered into the very seat of my mind (which it- 
 hath in my memory, inasmuch as the mind remembers 
 itself also), neither wert thou there : for as Thou art 
 not a corporeal image, nor the affection of a living be- 
 ing (as when we rejoice, condole, desire, fear, remem- 
 ber, forget, or the like), so neither art Thou the mind 
 itself; because Thou art the Lord God of the mind; 
 and all these are changed, but Thou remainest un. 
 changeable over all, and yet hast vouchsafed to dwell 
 in my memory, since I learnt Thee. And why seek I 
 now, in what place thereof Thou dwellest, as if there 
 were places therein ? Sure I am that in it Thou dwell- 
 est, since I have remembered Thee, ever since I learnt 
 Thee, and there I find Thee, when I call Thee to re- 
 membrance. 
 
 XXVI. 37. Where then did I find Thee, that I 
 might learn Thee ? For in my memory Thou wert 
 not, before I learned Thee. Where did I find Thee,
 
 those who really seek Him. 273 
 
 that I might learn Thee, but in Thyself above me ? 
 Place there is none ; we go backward and forward, 1 
 and there is no place. Everywhere, O Truth, dost 
 Thou give audience to all who ask counsel of Thee, 
 and at once answerest all, though on manifold mat- 
 ters they ask Thy counsel. Clearly dost Thou an- 
 swer, though all do not clearly hear. All consult 
 Thee on what they wish, though they hear not al- 
 ways what they wish. He is Thy best servant who 
 looks not so much to hear that from Thee which 
 himself wills, as rather to will that which from Thee 
 he hears. 
 
 XXVII. 38. Too late I loved Thee, O Thou 
 Beauty of ancient days, yet ever new ! too late I 
 loved Thee ! And behold, Thou wert within, and I 
 abroad, and there I searched for Thee ; deformed I, 
 plunging amid those fair forms, which Thou hadst 
 made. Thou wert with me, but I was not with Thee. 
 Things held me far from Thee, which, unless they 
 were in Thee, were not at all. Thou didst call, and 
 shout, and burst my deafness. Thou didst flash, shine, 
 and scatter my blindness. Thou didst breathe odors, 
 and I drew in breath and panted for Thee. I tasted, 
 and hunger and thirst. Thou touchedst me, and I 
 burned for Thy peace. 
 
 XXVIII. 39. When I shall with my whole self 
 cleave to Thee, I shall nowhere have sorrow, or la- 
 bor ; and my life shall wholly live, as wholly full of 
 Thee. But now, since whom Thou fillest Thou liftest 
 up, because I' atu not full of Thee I am a burden to 
 
 i Job xxiii. 8, 9.
 
 274 Did not seek God aright. 
 
 myself. Lamentable joys strive with joyous sorrows ; 
 and on which side is the victory, I know not. Woe 
 is me ! Lord, have pity on me. My evil sorrows 
 strive with my good joys ; and on which side is the 
 victory, I know not. Woe is me ! Lord, have pity 
 on me. Woe is me ! lo ! I hide not my wounds ; 
 Thou art the Physician, I the sick ; Thou merciful, I 
 miserable. Is not the life of man upon earth all 
 trial? 1 Who wishes for troubles and difficulties? 
 Thou commandest them to be endured, not to be 
 loved. No man loves what he endures, though he 
 love to endure. For though he rejoices that he en- 
 dures, he had rather there were nothing for him to 
 endure. In adversity, I long for prosperity ; in pros- 
 perity, I fear adversity. What middle place is there 
 betwixt these two, where the life of man is not all 
 trial ? Woe to the prosperities of the world, once 
 and again, through fear of adversity, and corruption 
 of joy. Woe to the adversities of the world, once 
 and again, and the third time, from the longing for 
 prosperity, and because adversity itself is a hard 
 thing, and lest it shatter endurance. Is not the life 
 of man upon earth att trial, without any interval ? 
 
 XXIX. 40. And all my hope is nowhere but in 
 Thy exceeding great mercy. Give what Thou en- 
 joinest, and enjoin what Thou wilt. Thou enjoinest 
 us continency ; and when I knew, saith one, that no 
 man can be continent, unless God give it, this also 
 wa$ a part of wisdom to know whose gift she is. 3 
 By continency, verily, are we bound up and brought 
 
 l Job vii. 1. Old Vulg. 2 Wisd. viii. 21.
 
 Did not seek God aright. 275 
 
 back into One, whence we were dissipated into 
 many. For too little doth he love Thee, who loves 
 anything with Thee, which he loveth not for Thee. 
 O love, who ever burnest and never consumest ! O 
 charity, my God ! kindle me. Thou enjoinest conti- 
 nency : give me what Thou enjoinest, and enjoin 
 what Thou wilt. 
 
 XXX. 41. Verily Thou enjoinest me continency 
 from the -lust of t/ie flesh, the lust of the eyes, and 
 t/ie ambition of the world. 1 Thou enjoinest conti- 
 nency from concubinage ; and, for wedlock itself, 
 Thou hast counselled something better than what 
 Thou hast permitted. And since Thou grantedst it, 
 it was done, even before I became a dispenser of 
 Thy Sacrament. But there yet live in my memory 
 (whereof I have much spoken) the images of such 
 things as my ill-custom there fixed ; which haunt 
 me, strengthless when I am awake ; but in sleep, not 
 only so as to give pleasure, but even to obtain assent, 
 and what is very like reality. Yea, so far prevails 
 the illusion of the image, in my soul and in my flesh, 
 that, when asleep, false visions persuade to that 
 which, when waking, the true cannot. Am I not then 
 myself, O Lord my God ? And yet there is so much 
 difference betwixt myself and myself, within that 
 moment wherein I pass from waking to sleeping, or 
 return from sleeping to waking ! Where is reason 
 then, which, awake, resisteth such suggestions ? And 
 should the things themselves be urged on it, it re- 
 maineth unshaken. Is it clasped up with the eyes ? 
 
 1 1 John ii. 16.
 
 276 Laments evil in him still, 
 
 is it lulled asleep with the senses of the body ? And 
 whence is it that often even in sleep we resist, and 
 mindful of. our purpose, and abiding most chastely in 
 it, yield no assent to such enticements ? And yet so 
 much difference there is, that when it happen eth 
 otherwise, upon waking we return to peace of con- 
 science : and by this very difference discover that we 
 did not, what yet we be sorry that in some way was 
 done in us. 
 
 42. Art Thou not mighty, God Almighty, to heal 
 all the diseases of my soul, 1 and by Thy more abun- 
 dant grace to quench even the impure motions of my 
 sleep ! Thou wilt increase, Lord, Thy gifts more and 
 more in me, that my soul may follow me to Thee, dis- 
 entangled from the birdlime of concupiscence ; that 
 it rebel not against itself, nor even in dreams commit 
 those debasing corruptions, even to pollution of the 
 flesh, nor even consent unto them. For that nothing 
 of this sort should have, over the pure affections even 
 of a sleeper, the very least influence, not even such as 
 a thought would restrain, to work this, not only 
 during life, but even at my present age, is not hard 
 for the Almighty, Who is able to do above all that 
 ice ask or think. 2 But what I yet am in this kind of 
 evil, have I confessed unto my good Lord ; rejoicing 
 with trembling? in that which Thou hast given me, 
 and bemoaning that wherein I am still imperfect ; 
 hoping that Thou wilt perfect Thy mercies in me, 
 even to perfect peace, which my outward and inward 
 
 1 I's. ciii. 3. 2 Eph. iii. 20. 8 Fs. ii. 11.
 
 even in his natural appetites. 277 
 
 man shall have with Thee, when death shall be swal- 
 lowed up in victory. l 
 
 XX3Q. 43. There is another evil of the day? which 
 I would were sufficient for it. For by eating and 
 drinking we repair the daily decays of our body, un- 
 til Thou destroy both belly and. meat? when Thou 
 shalt slay my emptiness with a wonderful fulness, and 
 clothe this incorruptible with an eternal incorruption.* 
 But now the necessity is sweet unto me, against which 
 sweetness I fight, that I be not taken captive ; and 
 carry on a daily war by fastings ; often bringing my 
 body into subjection* and my pains are removed by 
 pleasure. For hunger and thirst are in a manner pains ; 
 they burn and kill like a fever, unless the medicine of 
 nourishment comes to our aid. "Which, since it is at 
 hand through the consolations of Thy gifts, with which 
 land and water and air serve our weakness, our calam- 
 ity is termed gratification. 
 
 44. This hast Thou taught me that I should set 
 myself to take food as physic. But while I am pass- 
 ing from the discomfort of emptiness to the content of 
 replenishing, in the very passage the snare of concupis- 
 cence besets me. For that passing is pleasure, nor is 
 there any other way to pass thither, whither we needs 
 must pass. And health being the cause of eating and 
 drinking, there joiueth itself as an attendant a danger- 
 ous pleasure, which often endeavors to go before, so 
 that I may for her sake do what I say I do, or wish to 
 do for health's sake. Nor have each the same meas- 
 
 1 1 Cor. xv. 54. 81 Cor. vi. 13. s l Cor. ix. 27. 
 
 2 Matt. vi. 34. 1 Cor. xv. 64.
 
 278 Desires complete governance 
 
 ure ; for what is enough for health, is too little for 
 pleasure. And oft it is uncertain, whether it be the 
 necessary care of the body which is yet askmg for 
 sustenance, or whether a voluptuous deceivableness of 
 greediness is proffering its services. In this uncer- 
 tainty the unhappy. soul rejoices, and therein prepares 
 an excuse to shield itself, glad that it is difficult to de- 
 termine what suffices for the moderation of health, so 
 that under the cloak of health it may disguise' the 
 matter of gratification. These temptations I daily en- 
 deavor to resist, and I call on Thy right hand, and to 
 Thee do I refer my perplexities ; because I have as 
 yet no settled counsel herein. 
 
 45. I hear the voice of my God commanding, Let 
 not your hearts be overcharged with surfeiting and 
 drunkenness. 1 Drunkenness is far from me : Thou 
 wilt have mercy, that it come not near me. But full- 
 feeding sometimes creepeth upon Thy servant : Thou 
 wilt have mercy, that it may be far from me. For no 
 one can be continent unless Thou give it. 2 Many 
 things Thou givest us, praying for them; and what 
 good soever we have received before we prayed, from 
 Thee we received it; yea to the end we might after- 
 wards know this, did we before receive it. Drunkard 
 was I never, but drunkards have I known made sober 
 by Thee. From Thee then it was, that they who 
 never were such, should not so be, as from Thee it was, 
 that they who have been such, should not ever so be ; 
 and from Thee it was, that both might know from 
 whom it was. I heard another voice of Thine, Go not 
 
 1 Luke xxi. 34. 2 Wisd. viii. 21.
 
 of his appetites. 279 
 
 after thy lusts, and from thy pleasures turn away* 
 Yea by Thy favor have I heard that text which I 
 have much loved : neither if we eat, shall ire abound; 
 neither if we eat not, shall we lack; 2 which is to say, 
 neither shall the one make me plenteous, nor the other 
 miserable. I heard also another text : for I have 
 learned in whatsoever state lam, therewith to.be con- 
 tent; I know how to abound, and hoic to suffer need. 
 I can do all things through Christ that strengtheneth 
 me? Behold a soldier of the heavenly camp, not the 
 dust which we are. But remember* Lord, that we are 
 dust, and that of dust Thou hast made man; 6 and he 
 was lost and is found? m Nor could Paul of himself do 
 ^this ; because he whom I so loved, saying fchis through 
 the in-breathing of Thy inspiration, was of the same 
 dust. I can do all things (saith he) through him that 
 strengtheneth me. Strengthen me, that lean. Give 
 what Thou enjoinest, and enjoin what Thou wilt. He 
 confesses to have received, and when he glorieth, in 
 the Lord he glorieth J Another have I heard begging 
 that he might receive : Take from me (saith he) the 
 desires of the belly; 8 whence it appeareth, O my holy 
 God, that Thou givest, when that is done which Thou 
 commandest to be done. 
 
 46. Thou hast taught me, good Father, that to the 
 pure all things are pure; but that it is evil unto the 
 man that eateth icith offence; 9 and that every crea- 
 ture of Thine is good, and nothing to be refused, which 
 
 1 Eccl. xviii. 30. * Ps. ciii. 14. 1 1 Cor. i. 30, 31. 
 
 2 1 Cor. viii. 8. 5 Gen. iii. 19. 8 Eccl. xxiii. 6. 
 
 3 Phil. iv. 11-13. 6 Luke xv. 32. 9 Bom. xiv. 20.
 
 280 Several temptations 
 
 is received icith thanksgiving; 1 and that meat com- 
 mendeth us not to God;* and that no man should 
 judge us in meat or drink;* and, that he which eateth, 
 let him not despise him that eateth not; and let not 
 him that eateth not, judge him that eateth.* These 
 things have I learned, thanks be to Thee, praise to Thee, 
 ray God, my Master, knocking at my ears, enlighten- 
 ing my heart, delivering me out of all temptation. I 
 fear not uncleanness of meat, but the tmeleauness of 
 lusting. I know that Koah was permitted to eat all 
 kind of flesh that was good for food; 5 that Elijah was 
 fed with flesh; 6 that John, endued with an admirable 
 abstinence, was not polluted by feeding on living crea- 
 tures, locusts. I know also that Esau was deceived by 
 lustinsr for lentiles; 7 and that David blamed himself 
 
 O ' 
 
 for desiring a draught of water; 8 and that our King 
 was tempted, not concerning flesh, but bread. 9 And 
 also the people in the wilderness deserved to be re- 
 proved, not for desiring flesh, but because, in the desire 
 of food, they murmured against the Lord. 10 
 
 47. Placed, then, amid these temptations, I strive 
 daily against concupiscence in eating and drinking. 
 For it is not of such nature, that I can settle on cut- 
 ting it off once for all, and never touching it aftcr- 
 wards, as I could concubinage. The bridle of the 
 throat then is to be held attempered between slack- 
 ness and stiffness. And who is he, O Lord, who is 
 
 1 1 Tim. iv. 4. a Gen. ix. 3. 82 Sam. xxiil. 1&-17. 
 
 2 1 Cor. vii. 8. 1 Kings xvii. 6. 9 Matt. iv. 3. 
 
 3 Col. ii. 16. 7 Gen. xxiii. 34. 10 Xumb. xi. 
 * Rom. xiv. 3.
 
 enter through the senses. 281 
 
 not more or less transported beyond the limits of ne- 
 cessity ? whoever he is, he is a great one ; let him 
 make Thy Name great. But I am not such, for I am 
 a sinful man. 1 Yet do I too magnify Thy name; 
 and lie maketJi intercession to Thee* for my sins, who 
 hath overcome the world; 8 numbering me among the 
 weak members of His body;* because Thine eyes have 
 seen my imperfections, and in T?iy book shall all be 
 written.' 
 
 XXXII. 48. With the allurement of perfumes I am 
 not much concerned. When absent, I do not miss 
 them ; when present, I do not refuse them ; yet ever 
 ready to be without them. So I seem to myself; per- 
 
 , chance I am deceived. For that also is a mournful 
 darkness, whereby my abilities within me are hidden 
 from me; so that my mind making inquiry into 
 herself of her own powers, ventures not readily to 
 believe herself; because even what is in it is mostly 
 hidden, unless experience reveal it. And no one ought 
 to be secure in that life, the whole whereof is called a 
 trial? that he who hath been capable of worse to be 
 made better, may not likewise of better be made worse. 
 Our only h^>pe, only confidence, only assured prom- 
 ise, is Thy mercy. 
 
 XXXIII. 49. The delights of the ear had more 
 firmly entangled and subdued me ; but Thou didst 
 loosen, and free me. Now, in those melodies which 
 Thy words breathe soul into, when sung with a sweet 
 and attuned voice, I do a little repose ; yet not so 
 
 1 Luke v. 8. 3 John xvi. 33. Ps. cxxxix. 16. 
 
 2 Rom. viii. 34. 41 Cor. xii. 22. 6 Job vii. 1. Vulg.
 
 282 The character and use of church music. 
 
 to be held thereby, but that I can disengage myself 
 when I will. But with the words which are their life, 
 and whereby they find admission into me, the melodies 
 themselves seek in my affections a place of some estima- 
 tion, and I can scarcely assign them one suitable. For 
 at one time I seem to myself to give them more honor 
 than is seemly, feeling our minds to be more holily 
 and fervently raised into a flame of devotion by the 
 holy words themselves when thus sung, than when not ; 
 and that the several affections of our spirit, by a sweet 
 variety, have their own proper measures in the voice 
 and singing, by some hidden correspondence wherewith 
 they are stirred up. But this contentment of the flesh, 
 to which the soul must not be given over to be ener- 
 vated, doth oft beguile me, the sense not so waiting 
 upon reason as patiently to follow her ; but having 
 been admitted merely for her sake, it strives even to 
 run before her, and lead her. Thus in these things 
 I unawares sin, but afterwards am aware of it. 
 
 50. At other times, shunning over-anxiously this 
 very deception, I err in too great strictness ; and 
 sometimes to that degree as to wish the whole melody 
 of sweet music which is used with David's Psalter 
 banished from my ears", and the church's too ; and that 
 mode seems to me safer, which I remember to have 
 been told me of Athanasius bishop of Alexandria, who 
 made the reader of the psalm utter it with so slight 
 inflection of voice, that it was nearer speaking than 
 singing. Yet, again, when I remember the tears I 
 shed at the Psalmody of Thy Church, in the begin- 
 ning of my recovered faith ; and how at this time I
 
 The character and use of church music. 283 
 
 am moved, not with the singing, but with the things 
 sung, when they are sung with a clear voice and mod- 
 ulation most suitable, I acknowledge the great use of 
 this institution. Thus I fluctuate between peril of pleas- 
 ure and approved wholesomeness ; inclined the rather 
 (though not as pronouncing an irrevocable opinion) 
 to approve of the usage of singing in the church ; that 
 so by the delight of the ears, the weaker minds may 
 rise to the feeling of devotion. Yet when it befalls 
 me to be more moved with the voice than the words 
 sung, I confess to have sinned penally, and then had 
 rather not hear music. See now my state ; weep with 
 me, and weep for me, ye who so regulate your feel- 
 ings within as that good acts ensue. For you who 
 do not, these things touch not you. But Thou, O 
 Lord my God, hearken ; behold, and see, and have 
 mercy, and heal me, 1 Thou, in whose presence I have 
 become a problem to myself; and that is my infirm- 
 ity? 
 
 XXXFV. 51. There remains the pleasure of these 
 eyes of my flesh, on which to make my confessions in 
 the hearing of the ears of Thy temple, those brotherly 
 and devout ears ; and so to conclude the temptations 
 of the lust of thefltsh, which yet assail me, groaning 
 earnestly, and desiring to be clothed upon with my 
 house from heaven? The eyes love fair and varied 
 forms, and bright and soft colors. Let not these oc- 
 cupy my soul ; let God rather occupy it, who made 
 tJiese things, very good* indeed, yet is He my good, not 
 they. And these affect me, waking, the whole day, 
 
 IPs. vi. 3. 2 Ps. Ixxvii. 10. 3 2 Cor. v. 2. 4 Gen. i. 81.
 
 284 The blessings, of the light. 
 
 nor is any rest given me from them, as there is from 
 musical voices, and sometimes, in silence, from all 
 voices. For this qneen of colors, the light, bathing 
 all which we behold, wherever I am through the day, 
 gliding by me in varied forms, sooths me when engaged 
 on other things and not observing it. And so strongly 
 does it entwine itself, that if it be suddenly withdrawn, 
 it is with longing sought for, and if absent long, sad- 
 dens the mind. 
 
 52. O Thou Light, which Tobias saw, when, with 
 eyes closed, he taught his sou the way of life ; i and 
 himself went before with the feet of charity, never 
 swerving. Or which Isaac saw, when, his fleshly eyes 
 being heavy 2 and closed by old age, it was vouchsafed 
 him, not knowingly to bless his sons, but by blessing to 
 know them. Or which Jacob saw, when he also, blind 
 through great age, with illumined heart, in the pei-- 
 sons of his sons shed light on the different races of the 
 future people, in them foresignified ; and laid his hands, 
 mystically crossed, upon his grandchildren by Joseph, 
 not as their father by his outward eye corrected 
 them, but as himself inwardly discerned. 8 This is 
 the light, it is one, and all are one who see and love it. 
 But that corporeal light whereof I spake, it seasoneth 
 the life of this world for her blind lovers, with an en- 
 ticing and dangerous sweetness. But they who know 
 how to praise Thee for it, " O all-creating Lord," take 
 it up in Thy hymns and are not taken up with it in 
 their sleep. Such would I be. These seductions of 
 the eyes I resist, lest my feet wherewith I walk upon 
 
 l Tob. iv. 2 Gen. xxvii. 3 Gen. xlviii.
 
 The blessings of the light. 28") 
 
 Thy way be ensnared ; and I lift up mine invisible 
 eyes to Thee, that Thou wouldst pluck my feet out of 
 the snare. 1 Thou dost ever and anon pluck them out, 
 for they are ensnared. ' Thou ceasest not to pluck 
 them out, while I often entangle myself in the snares 
 on all sides laid; because Thou that keepest Israel 
 shalt neither slumber nor sleep? 
 
 53. What innumerable toys, made by divers arts 
 and manufactures, in our apparel, shoes, utensilsy and 
 all sorts of works, in pictures, also, and divers images, 
 and these far exceeding all necessary and moderate 
 use and all pious meaning, have men added to tempt 
 their own eyes withal; outwardly following what 
 themselves make, inwardly forsaking Him by whom 
 themselves were made, and destroying that which 
 themselves have been made ! But I, my God and my 
 Glory, do hence also sing a hymn to Thee, and do 
 consecrate praise to Him who consecrateth me, be- 
 cause those beautiful patterns which through men's 
 souls are conveyed into their cunning hands, come 
 from that Beauty, Which is above our souls, Which 
 my soul day and night sigheth after. But the framers 
 and followers of the outward beauties, derive thence 
 the rule of judging of them, but not of using them. 
 And He is there, though they perceive Him not, that 
 so they might not wander, but keep their strength for 
 Thee? and not scatter it abroad upon pleasurable wea- 
 rinesses. And I, though I speak and see this, entan- 
 gle my steps with these outward beauties ; but Thou 
 pluckest me out, O Lord, Thou pluckest me out; be- 
 
 l Ps. xxv. 15. 2 Ps. cxxi. 4. 3 p s . Iviii. 10. Vulg. 
 
 21
 
 286 WJiat is meant, by 
 
 cause Thy loving-kindness is before my eyes. 1 For I 
 am taken miserably, and Thou pluckest me out mer- 
 cifully ; sometimes not perceiving it, when I had but 
 lightly lighted upon them ; otherwhiles with pain, be- 
 cause I had stuck fast in them. 
 
 XXXV. 54. To this is added another form of 
 temptation more manifoldly dangerous. For besides 
 that concupiscence of the flesh which consisteth in 
 the delight of all senses and pleasures, wherein its 
 slaves, who go far from Thee, 2 waste and perish, the 
 soul hath, through the same senses of the body, a 
 certain vain and curious desire, veiled under the 
 title of knowledge and learning, not of delighting in 
 the flesh, but of making experiments through the 
 flesh. The seat whereof being in the appetite of 
 knowledge, and sight being the sense chiefly used 
 for attaining knowledge, it is in Divine language 
 called The lust of the eyes. 3 For to see, belongeth 
 properly to the eyes ; yet we use this word of the 
 other senses also, when we employ them in seeking 
 knowledge. For we do not say, hark how it flashes, 
 or smell how. it glows, or taste how it shines, or feel 
 how it gleams ; for all these are said to be seen. 
 And yet we say not only, see how it shineth, which 
 the eyes alone can perceive ; but also, see how it 
 soundeth, see how it smelleth, see how it tasteth, 
 see how hard it is. And so the general experience 
 of the senses, as was said, is called The lust of 
 the eyes, because the oftice of seeing, wherein the 
 eyes hold the prerogative, the other senses by way 
 
 1 Ps. xxv 3. 2 Ps. Ixxiii. 27. 1 John ii. 16.
 
 " the hist of the eyes." 287 
 
 of similitude take to themselves, when they make 
 search after any knowledge. 
 
 55. But by this may more evidently be discerned, 
 wherein pleasure, and wherein curiosity, is the ob- 
 ject of the senses ; for pleasure seeketh objects 
 beautiful, melodious, fragrant, savory, soft ; but curi- 
 osity, for trial's sake, the contrary, as well, not for 
 the sake of suffering annoyance, but out of the lust 
 of making trial and knowing them. For what pleas- 
 ure hath it, to see in a mangled carcass what will 
 make yoii shudder? and yet if it be lying near, men 
 flock thither, to be made sad, and to turn pale. Even 
 in sleep they are afraid to see it. As if when awake, 
 any one forced them to see it, or any report of its 
 beauty drew them thither ! Thus also in the other 
 senses, which it were long to go through. From 
 this disease of curiosity, are all those strange sights 
 exhibited in the theatre. Hence, men go on to 
 search^ut the hidden powers of nature, which to 
 know profits not, and wherein men desire nothing 
 but to know. Hence, also, with that same end 
 of perverted knowledge in view, magical 1 arts are 
 employed. Hence, also, in religion itself, is God 
 tempted, when signs and wonders are demanded of 
 Him ; not desired for any good end, but merely to 
 make trial of. 
 
 56. In this so vast wilderness, full of snares and 
 dangers, behold many of them I have cut off, and 
 thrust out of my heart, as Thou hast given me 
 power, O God of my salvation. And yet when dare 
 I say, since so many things of this kind buzz on all
 
 288 The danger of curiosity. 
 
 sides about our daily life, when dare I say, that 
 nothing of this sort engages my attention, or causes 
 in me an idle interest '? True, the theatres do not 
 now carry me away, nor care I to know the courses 
 of the stars, nor did my soul ever consult ghosts de- 
 parted ; all sacrilegious mysteries I detest. From 
 Thee, O Lord my God, to whom I owe humble and 
 single-hearted service, by what artifices and sugges- 
 tions doth the enemy deal with me to desire some 
 sign ! But I beseech Thee by our King, and by our 
 pure and holy country, Jerusalem, that as any con- 
 senting thereto is far from me, so may it ever be 
 further and further. But when I pray Thee for the 
 salvation of any, my end and intention is far differ- 
 ent. Thou givest and wilt give me tofoUow Thee 
 willingly, doing what Thou wilt. 1 
 
 57. Notwithstanding, who can recount in how 
 many most petty and contemptible things is our 
 curiosity daily tempted, and how often we give 
 way ? How often do we begin, as if we were tol- 
 erating people telling vain stories, lest we offend the 
 weak ; then by degrees we take interest therein ! I 
 go not now to the circus to see a dog coursing a 
 hare ; but in the field, if passing, that coursing per- 
 adventure will distract me even from some weighty 
 thought, and draw me after it : not that I turn aside 
 the body of my beast, yet still incline my mind 
 thither. And unless Thou, having made me see my 
 infirmity, didst speedily admonish me, either through 
 the sight itself by some contemplation to rise to- 
 
 1 John xxi. 22.
 
 The, danger of curiosity. 289 
 
 wards Thee, or altogether to despise and pass it by, 
 I stupidly stand fixed therein. "When sitting at 
 home, a lizard catching flies, or a spider entangling 
 them as they rush into her nets, ofttimes takes my 
 attention. Is the thing different, because they are 
 but small creatures ? I indeed go on from them to 
 praise Thee, the wonderful Creator and Orderer of 
 all, but this does not first draw my attention. It is 
 one thing to rise quickly, another not to fall. And 
 of such things is nay life full ; and my one hope is 
 Thy wonderful great mercy. For when our heart 
 becomes the receptacle of such things, and is over- 
 charged with throngs of this abundant vanity, then 
 are our prayers also thereby often interrupted and 
 distracted, and whilst in Thy presence we direct the 
 voice of our heart to Thine ears, this so great con- 
 cern is broken off, by the rushing in of I know not" 
 w"hat idle thoughts. Shall we then account this also 
 among things of slight concernment, or shall aught 
 bring us back to hope, save Thy complete mercy, 
 since Thou hast begun to change us ? 
 
 XXXVI. 58. And Thou knowest how far Thou 
 hast- already changed me, who first didst heal me of 
 the lust of vindicating myself, that so Thou might- 
 est forgive all the rest of my iniquities, and heal att 
 my infirmities, and redeem my life from corruption, 
 and crown me with mercy and pity, and satisfy my 
 desire with good things : l who didst curb my pride 
 with Thy fear, and tame my neck to Thy yoke. And 
 now I bear it, and it is light' unto me, because so 
 
 l Ts. ciii. 35. 2 Matt. xi. 30.
 
 290 The love of the praise of men, 
 
 hast Thou promised, and hast made it ; and verily s<? 
 it was, and I knew it not, when I feared to take it. 
 
 59. But, O Lord, Thou alone Lord without pride, 
 because Thou art the only true Lord, who hast no 
 lord, hath this third kind of temptation also ceased 
 from me, or can it cease through this whole life ? 
 To wish, namely, to be feared and loved of men, for 
 no other end but that we may have a joy therein, 
 which is no joy ? A miserable life this, and a foul 
 boastfulness ! Hence especially it comes, that men 
 do neither purely love, nor fear Thee. And there- 
 fore dost Thou resist the proud, and givest grace to 
 the humble: 1 yea, Thou thunderest down upon the 
 ambitions of the world, and the foundations of the 
 mountains tremble? Because now certain offices of 
 human society mak it necessary to be loved and 
 "feared of men, the adversary of our true blessedness 
 layeth hard at us, everywhere spreading his snares 
 of " well done, well done ;" that, greedily catching 
 at them, we may be taken unawares, and sever our 
 joy from Thy truth, and set it in the deceivingness 
 of men ; and be pleased at being loved and feared, 
 not for Thy sake, but in Thy stead : and thus haying 
 been made like him, he may have them for his own, 
 not in the bands of charity, but in the bonds of pun- 
 ishment : who purposed to set his throne in the 
 north, 9 that, dark and chilled, they might serve him, 
 pervcrtedly and crookedly imitating Thee. But we, 
 O Lord, behold we are Thy little flock /* possess us 
 as Thine, stretch Thy wings over us, and let us fly 
 
 1 James iv. 6. 2 Pg. xviii. 7. " Is. xiv. 13, 14. * Luke xii. 32.
 
 another snare. 291 
 
 under them. Be Thou our glory; let us be loved 
 for Thee, and Thy word feared in us. He who 
 would be praised of men when Thou blatnest, will 
 not be defended of men when Thou judgest ; nor 
 delivered when Thou condemnest. But when, 
 not the sinner is praised in the desires of his soul, 1 
 nor he blessed who doth ungodly, 2 but, a man is 
 praised for some gift which Thou hast given him, 
 and he rejoices more at the praise for himself than 
 that he hath the gift for which he is praised, he also 
 is praised, while Thou dispraisest ; and better is he 
 who praised than he who is praised. For the one 
 took pleasure in the gift of God in man ; the other 
 was better pleased with the gift of man, than of 
 God. 
 
 XXXVII. 60. By these temptations we are as- 
 sailed daily, O, Lord ; without ceasing we are assailed. 
 Our daily furn ace 3 is the tongue of men. And in this 
 way, also, Thou commandest us self-denial. Give 
 what Thou enjoinest, and enjoin what Thou wilt. 
 Thouknowest on this matter the groans of my heart, 
 and the floods of mine eyes. For I cannot learn how 
 far I am cleansed from this plague, and I much fear 
 my secret sins* which Thine eyes know, mine do not. 
 For in other kinds of temptations I have some sort of 
 means of examining myself; in this, scarce any. For, 
 in refraining my mind from the pleasures of the flesh, 
 and idle curiosity, I see how much I have attained 
 to, when I do without them ; foregoing, or not having 
 them. For then I ask myself how much more or less 
 
 1 P. ix. 29. Vulg. 2 Ps. x. 3. 3 Prov. xxvii. 21. < Ps. xix. 12.
 
 292 Limits within which 
 
 troublesome it is to me, not to have them ? Thus, 
 riches, which are desired that they may serve to some 
 one or two or all of the three concupiscences, 1 if the 
 soul cannot discern whether, when it hath them it de- 
 spiseth them, they may be cast aside, that so it may 
 prove itself. But how can we divest ourselves .of 
 praise, and try ourselves in this respect ? Must we 
 live ill, yea so abandonedly and atrociously, that no 
 one should know us without detesting us? What 
 greater madness can be uttered, or thought of? But 
 if praise is wont, and ought, to accompany a good life 
 and good works, we ought as little to forego its com- 
 pany, as good life itself. Yet I know not whether I 
 can contentedly or discontentedly be without any 
 thing, unless it be absent. 
 
 61. What then do I confess unto Thee in this kind of 
 temptation, O Lord ? What, but that I am delighted 
 with praise, but with truth itself, more than with 
 praise ? For were it proposed to me, whether I would, 
 being frenzied in error on all things, be praised by 
 all men, or being consistent and most settled in the 
 truth, be blamed by all, I see which I should choose. 
 Yet fain would I, that the approbation of another 
 should not even increase my joy for any good in me. 
 Yet I own, it doth increase it, and not so only, but 
 dispraise doth diminish it. And when I am troubled 
 at this my misery, an excuse occurs to me, which of 
 what value it is, Thou God knowest, for it leaves me 
 uncertain. For since Thou hast commanded us not 
 contiuency alone, that is, from what things to refrain 
 
 1 1 John ii. 10.
 
 the love of praise is allowable. 293 
 
 our love, but righteousness also, that is, whereon to 
 bestow it, and hast willed us to love not Thee only, 
 but our neighbor also, often, when pleased with intel- 
 ligent praise, I seem to myself to be pleased with the 
 proficiency or towardlines? of my neighbor, or to be 
 grieved for evil in him, when I hear him dispraise 
 either what he understands not, or is good. For 
 sometimes I am grieved at my own praise, either 
 when those things be praised in me, in which I mislike 
 myself, or even lesser and slight excellences are more 
 esteemed than they ought to be. But, again, how 
 do I know whether I am not thus affected, because 
 I would not have him who praises me, differ from me 
 about myself; not as being influenced by concern for 
 him, but because those same good things which please 
 me in myself, please me more when they please 
 another also ? For somehow I am not praised when 
 my judgment of myself is not praised ; forasmuch as 
 either those things are praised, which displease me ; 
 or those more, winch please me less. Am I then 
 doubtful of myself in this matter? 
 
 62. Behold, in Thee, O Truth, I see, that I ought 
 not to be moved at my own praises, for my own sake, 
 but for the good of my neighbor. And whether it be 
 so with me, I know not. For herein I know less of 
 myself than of Thee. I beseech now, O my God, 
 discover to me myself also, that I may confess unto 
 my brethren, who are to pray for me, wherein I find 
 myself maimed. Let me examine myself again more 
 diligently. If in my praise I am moved with the 
 good of my neighbor, why am I less moved if another
 
 294 Confesses marfs inability 
 
 be unjustly dispraised than if it be myself? "SVhy 
 am I more stung by reproach cast upon myself, than 
 at that cast upon another, with the same injustice be- 
 fore me? Know I not this also? or is it at last that 
 I deceive myself? and do not the truth before Thee in 
 my heart and tongue? This madness put far from me, 
 O Lord, lest mine own mouth be to me the sinner's 
 oil to make fat my head? I am poor and needy; 9 yet 
 best, while in hidden groanings I mortify myself, and 
 seek Thy mercy, until what is lacking in my defective 
 state be renewed and perfected, even to that peace 
 which the eye of the proud knoweth not. 
 
 XXXVIII. 63. Yet the word, which cometh out of 
 the mouth, and deeds known to men, bring with them 
 a most dangerous temptation through the love of 
 praise ; which, to establish a certain excellency of our 
 own, solicit and collect men's suffrages. It tempts, 
 even when it is reproved by myself in myself, on the 
 very ground that it is reproved ; and often glories 
 more vainly of the very contempt of vain-glory ; and 
 so it is no longer contempt of vain-glory, whereof it 
 glories ; for it doth not contemn when it glorieth. 
 
 XXIX. 64. Within also, within is another evil, aris- 
 ing out of a like temptation ; whereby men become 
 vain, pleasing themselves in themselves, though they 
 please not, or displease, or care not to please, others. 
 But pleasing themselves, they much displease Thee, 
 not only taking pleasure in things not good, as if good, 
 but in Thy good things, as if they were their own ; 
 or even if as Thine, yet as though for their own mer- 
 
 1 Gal. vi. 3; 1 John i. 8. 2 Pg. cxli. 5. 3 Ps. cix. 22.
 
 to search out himself. 295 
 
 its ; or even if as though from Thy grace, yet not with 
 brotherly rejoicing, but grudging that grace to others. 
 In all these and the like perils and travails, Thou seest 
 the trembling of my heart ; and I rather feel my 
 wounds to be cured by Thee, than not inflicted by 
 me. 
 
 XT., 65. Where hast Thou not walked with me, O 
 Truth, teaching me what to beware, and what to de- 
 sire, when I referred to Thee what I could discover 
 here below, and consulted Thee ? "With my outward 
 senses, as I might, I surveyed the world, and observed 
 the life which my body hath from me, and these my 
 senses. Thence entered I the recesses of my mem- 
 ory, those manifold and spacious chambers, wonder- 
 fully furnished with innumerable stores ; and I consid- 
 ered, and stood aghast ; being able to discern nothing 
 of these things without Thee, and finding none of 
 them to be Thee. Nor was it I myself who found 
 out these things, who went over them all, and labored 
 to distinguish and to value every thing according 
 to its dignity, taking some things upon the report of 
 my senses, questioning about others which I felt to be 
 mixed up with myself, numbering and distinguishing 
 the reporters themselves, and in the large treasure- 
 house of my memory, revolving some things, storing 
 up others, drawing out others, nor was it I myself 
 who did this : that is, it was not my power whereby 
 I did it. Neither was it Thou, for Thou art the 
 abiding light, which I consulted concerning all 
 these, whether they were, what they were, and how 
 to be valued ; and I heai'd Thee directing and com-
 
 296 There must be a Mediator 
 
 manding me ; and this I often do, this delights me, 
 and as far as I maybe freed from necessary duties, unto 
 this pleasure have I recourse. Nor in all these, which 
 I run over consulting Thee, can I find any safe place 
 for my soul, but in Thee ; whither my scattered mem- 
 bers may be gathered, and nothing of me depart 
 from Thee. And sometimes Thou admittest me to 
 an affection, very unusual, in my inmost soul ; rising 
 to a strange sweetness, which if it were perfected 
 in me, I know not what in it would not belong to the 
 life to come. But through my miserable encum- 
 brances I sink down again into these lower things, 
 and am swept back by former custom, and am held, 
 and greatly weep, but am greatly held. So much 
 doth the burden of a bad custom weigh us down. 
 Here I can stay, but would not; there I would, but 
 cannot ; both ways, miserable. 
 
 XLI. 66. Thus then have I considered the sick- 
 nesses of my sins in that threefold concupiscence, 
 and have called Thy right hand to my help. For 
 with a wounded heart have I beheld Thy brightness, 
 and stricken back I said, " Who can attain thither ? 
 I am cast away from the sight of thine eyes} Thou 
 art the Truth who presidest over all, but I, through 
 my covetousness, would not indeed forego Thee, but 
 would with Thee possess a falsehood, just as no man 
 would speak falsely, in such a way, and to such a de- 
 gree, as to wholly lose the knowledge of truth. So 
 then I lost Thee, because Thou vouchsafest not to be 
 possessed along with a falsehood." 
 
 l Ps. xxxi. 22.
 
 between God and man. 297 
 
 XLII. 67. Whom could I find to reconcile me to 
 Thee ? was I to have recourse to angels ? by what 
 prayers ? by what sacraments ? Many endeavoring 
 to return unto Thee, and of themselves unable, have, as 
 I hear, tried this, and fallen into the desire of curious 
 visions, and been accounted worthy to be deluded. 
 For they, being high-minded, sought Thee by the 
 pride of learning, swelling out their breasts, rather 
 than smiting upon them, and so by the agreement of 
 their heart, drew unto themselves the princes of the 
 air, 1 the fellow-conspirators of their pride, by whom, 
 through magical influences, they were deceived, seek- 
 ing a mediator by whom they might be purged, and 
 there was none. For the devil it was, transforming 
 himself into an Angel of Light? And it much enticed 
 proud flesh, that he had no body of flesh. For they 
 were mortal, and sinners ; but Thou Lord, to whom 
 they proudly sought to be reconciled, art immortal, 
 and without sin. But a mediator between God and 
 man must have something like to God, something 
 like to men ; lest being in both like to man, he should 
 be far from God ; or if in both like God, too unlike 
 man ; and so not be a mediator. That deceitful me- 
 diator, then, by whom in Thy secret judgments pride 
 deserved to be deluded, hath one thing in common 
 with man, that is sin ; another he would seem to 
 have in common with God ; and not being clothed 
 with the mortality of flesh, would vaunt himself to be 
 immortal. But since the wages of sin is death? this 
 
 l Eph. ii. 2. 22 Cor. xi. 14. S Rom. vi. 20.
 
 298 Christ a sufficient Mediator. 
 
 hath he in common with men, that with them, he 
 should be condemned to death. * 
 
 XLIII. 68. But the true Mediator, Whom in Thy 
 secret mercy Thou hast showed to the humble, and 
 sentest, that by His example also they might learn 
 that same humility, that Mediator between God and 
 man, the Man Christ Jesus, 1 appeared betwixt mor- 
 tal sinners and the Immortal Jus.t One ; mortal with 
 men, just with God ; that, because the wages of right- 
 eousness is life and peace, He might, by a righteous- 
 ness conjoined with God, make void that death of 
 sinner,s, now justified, which He willed to have in 
 common with them. Hence He was showed forth to 
 holy men of old, that so they, through faith in His 
 Passion to come, as we through faith in it passed, 
 might be saved. For as Man, He was a Mediator; 2 
 but as the Word, he was not in the middle (Media- 
 tor) between God and man, because he was equal to 
 God, and God with God, atfd together one God. 
 
 69. How hast Thou loved us, good Father, who 
 sparedst. not Thine only Son, but deliveredst lEm up 
 for us ungodly! 5 How hast Thou loved us, for whom 
 lie that thought it no robbery to be equal icith Tliee, 
 was made subject even to the death of the cross* He 
 alone free among the dead, 6 having power to lay down 
 His life, and power to take it again: 6 for us, to Thee, 
 both Victor and Victim, and therefore Victor, because 
 the Victim ; for us, to Thee, Priest and Sacrifice, and 
 
 1 1 Tim. ii. 20. 
 
 2 Bather, as God-Man; mere humanity is not "in the middle between 
 God and man." ED. 
 
 3 Horn. viii. 32. * Phil. ii. 6, 8. 5 Ps. Ixxxviii. 5. 6 John x. 18.
 
 Christ a sufficient Mediator. 209 
 
 therefore Priest because the Sacrifice ; making us, to 
 Thee, of servants, sons, by being "born of Thee, and 
 serving us. Deservedly then is my hope strong in 
 Him, that Thou wilt heal all my infirmities, 1 by Him 
 Who sitteth at Thy right hand and maJceth inter* 
 cession for us; 2 else should I despair. For many and 
 great are my infirmities, many they are and great ; 
 but Thy medicine is mightier. We might imagine 
 that Thy Word was far from any union with man, 
 and despair of ourselves, unless He had been made 
 flesh and dwelt among us? 
 
 70. Affrighted with my sins, and the burden of my 
 misery, I had thought in my heart, and had purposed, 
 to flee to the wilderness:* but Thou forbaddest me, 
 and strengthenedst me, saying, Therefore Christ died 
 for all, that they which live may now no longer live 
 unto themselves, but unto Him that died for them? 
 See, Lord, least my care upon Thee, 6 that I may live, 
 and consider wondrous things out of Thy law. 7 Thou 
 knowest my unskilfulness, and my infirmities ; teach 
 me, and heal me. He, Thine only son, in Whom are 
 hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge? hath 
 redeemed me with His blood. Let not the proud 
 speak evil of me; 9 because I meditate on my Ran- 
 som, and eat and drink, and appropriate it ; and poor, 
 desire to be satisfied from Him, amongst those that 
 eat and are satisfied. And they shall praise the Lord 
 who seek Him. 10 
 
 1 Ps ciii. 3. a 2 Cor. v. 15. 8 Col. ii. 3. 
 
 2 Rom. viii. 34. 6 P 8 . Iv. 22. 9 Ps. cxix. 122. Vulg. 
 
 3 John i. 12. 7 p s . cxix. 18. 10 Ps. xxii 26. 
 
 4 Ps. Iv. 7.
 
 THE ELEVENTH BOOK. 
 
 AUGUSTINE BREAKS OFF THE HISTORY OP THE MODE WHEREBY GOD 
 LED HIM TO HOLY ORDERS, IN ORDER, TO " CONFESS" GOD'S MER- 
 CIES IN OPENING TO HIM THE SCRIPTURE MOSES IS NOT TO BE 
 UNDERSTOOD, BUT IN CHRIST, NOT EVEN THE FIRST WORDS, " IN 
 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. 
 
 I. 1. Lord, since eternity is Thine, art Thou igno- 
 rant of what I say to Thee ? or dost Thou see in : 
 time, what passeth in time ? Why then do I lay in 
 order before Thee so many relations ? Not, of a 
 truth, that Thou mightest learn them through me, 
 but to stir up mine own, and my readers' devotions 
 towards- Thee, that we may all say, Great is the 
 Lord, and greatly to be praised}- I have said al- 
 ready, and again will say, for love of Thy love do I 
 this. For we pray, also ; and yet Truth hath said, 
 Your Father' knoweth what you have need of, before 
 you ask? It is then our affections which we lay 
 open unto Thee, confessing our own miseries, and 
 Thy mercies upon us, that Thou mayest free us 
 
 i Ps. xcvi. 4. 2 Matt. vi. 8.
 
 Augustine prays to be kept from error. 301 
 
 wholly, since Thou hast begun, that we may cease to 
 be wretched in ourselves, and be blessed in Thee ; 
 seeing Thou hast called us, to become poor in spirit, 
 and meek, and mourners, and hungering and athirst 
 after righteousness, and merciful, and pure in heart, 
 and peace-makers. 1 See, I have told Thee many 
 things, as I could and as I would, because Thou first 
 wouldest that I should confess unto Thee, my Lord 
 God. For Thou art good, for Thy mercy endureth 
 forever? 
 
 II. 2. But how shall I suffice with the tongue of 
 my pen to utter all Thy exhortations, and all Thy 
 terrors, and comforts, and guidances, whereby Thou 
 broughtest me to preach Thy Word, and dispense 
 Thy Sacrament to Thy people ? And if I suffice to 
 utter them in order, the drops of time are precious 
 with me ; and long have I burned to meditate in 
 Thy law, 3 and therein to confess to Thee my skill 
 and unskilfulness, the day-break of Thy enlightening 
 and the remnants of my darkness, until infirmity be 
 swallowed up by strength. And I would not have 
 aught besides steal away those hours, which I find 
 free from the necessities of refreshing my body and 
 the powers of my mind, and the service which we owe 
 to men, or which, though we owe not, we yet pay. 
 
 3. O Lord my God, give ear unto my prayer, and 
 let Thy mercy hearken unto my desire : because it is 
 anxious, not for myself alone, but would serve 
 brotherly charity ; and Thou secst my heart, that so 
 it is. I would sacrifice to Thee the service of my 
 
 l Matt. v. 39. 2 p 8 . cxxxvi. 3 p s . cxix. 97. 
 
 22
 
 302 Augustine prays for light 
 
 thought and tongue ; do Thou give me what I may 
 offer Thee. For I am poor and needy, Thou rich to 
 all that call upon Thee;^ and, inaccessible to care, 
 carest for us. Circumcise from all rashness and all 
 lying both my inward and outward lips ; let Thy 
 Scriptures be my pure delights ; let me not be de- 
 ceived in them, nor deceive out of them. Lord, 
 hearken and pity, O Lord my God, Light of the 
 blind, and Strength of the weak ; yea, also, Light of 
 those that see, and Strength of the strong : hearken 
 unto my soul, and hear it crying out of the depths? 
 For if Thine ears be not with us in the depths also, 
 whither shall we go? whither cry? The day is 
 Thine, and the night is Thine ; at Thy beck the 
 moments flee by. Grant thereof a space for our 
 meditations in the hidden things of Thy law, and 
 close it not against us who knock. For not in vain 
 wouldest Thou have the darksome secrets of so 
 many pages written ; nor are those forests without 
 their harts, which retire therein and range and walk, 
 feed, lie down, and ruminate. Perfect me, O Lord, 
 and reveal them unto me. Behold, Thy voice is my 
 joy ; Thy voice exceedeth the abundance of pleas- 
 ures. Give what I love: for I do love; and this 
 hast Thou given. Forsake not Thy own gifts, nor 
 despise Thy green herb that thirsteth. Let me con- 
 fess unto Thee whatsoever I shall find in Thy books, 
 and hear the voice of praise, arrd drink in Thee, and 
 meditate on the wonderful things out of Thy laic ; 
 even from the beginning, wherein Thou madest the 
 
 1 Ps. xl. 17, Ixxxvi. 5. 2 Ts. cxxx. 1.
 
 and true knmcledge. 303 
 
 heaven and the earth, unto the everlasting reigning 
 of Thy holy city with Thee. 
 
 4. Lord) have mercy on me, and hear my desire. 
 For it is not, I deem, desire of the earth, not of gold 
 and silver and precious stones, or gorgeous apparel, 
 or honors and offices, or the pleasures of the flesh, or 
 necessaries for the body- and for this life of our pil- 
 grim dge, all which shall be added unto those that 
 seek Thy kingdom and Thy righteousness. Behold, 
 O Lord my God, wherein is my desire. The wicked 
 have told me of delights, but not such as Thy law, 
 Lord. Behold wherein is my desire. Behold, 
 Father, behold, and see and approve ; and be it 
 pleasing in the sight of Thy mercy, that I may find 
 grace before Thee, that the inward parts of Thy 
 words be opened to me knocking. I beseech by our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, Thy Son, the Man of Thy right 
 hand, the Son of Man, whom Thou hast established 
 for Thyself, as Thy Mediator and ours, through 
 Whom Thou soughtest us who did not seek Thee, 
 but soughtest us that we might seek Thee ; Thy 
 Word, through Whom Thou madest all things, and 
 among them, me also ; Thy Only Begotten, through 
 Avhom Thou calledst to adoption the believing peo- 
 ple, and therein me also, I beseech Thee by Him, 
 who sitteth at Thy right hand, and intercedeth with 
 Thee for us, in Whom are hidden all the treasures 
 of wisdom and knowledge. Him do I seek in Thy 
 books. Of Him did Moses write. This saith He 
 Himself; this saith the Truth. 1 
 
 l John v. 46.
 
 304 The meaning of Moses. 
 
 III. 5. I would hear and understand how, " In the 
 Beginning Thou madest the heaven and earth." 
 Moses wrote this, wrote and departed, passed hence 
 from Thee to Thee. Nor is he now before me ; for 
 if he were, I would hold him, and ask him, and 
 beseech him by Thee to open these things unto me, 
 and would lay the ears of my body to the sounds 
 bursting out of his mouth. And should he speak 
 Hebrew, in vain will it strike on my senses, nor 
 would aught of it touch my mind ; but if Latin, I 
 should know what he said. But whence should I 
 know whether he spake the truth ? Yea, and if 
 I knew this also, should I know it from him ? Truly 
 within me, within, in the chamber of my thoughts, 
 Truth, Who is neither Hebrew, nor Greek, nor 
 Latin, nor barbarian, without organs of voice or 
 tongue, or sound of syllables, would say, "It is 
 truth ;" and I forthwith should say confidently to 
 that man of Thine, " Thou sayest truly." Whereas, 
 then, I cannot inquire of Moses, Thee, Thee I be- 
 seech, O Truth, being filled with Whom, he spake 
 truth, Thee, my God, I beseech, forgive my sins ; and 
 Thou, who gavest him to speak these things, give to 
 me also to understand them. 
 
 IV. 6. Behold, the heavens and the earth are; 
 they proclaim that they were created ; for they 
 change and vary. Whereas whatsoever hath not 
 been made, and yet is, hath nothing in it which it 
 had not before ; and this it is, to change and vary. 
 They proclaim, also, that they made not themselves ; 
 " We are, because we have been made ; we were not,
 
 God does not create from existing materials. 305 
 
 therefore, before we were, so as to make ourselves?* 
 Now the evidence of the thing is the voice of the 
 speakers. Thou, therefore, Lord, madest them ; who 
 art beautiful, for they are beautiful ; who art good, 
 for they are good ; who art, for they are ; yet are 
 they not beautiful, nor good, as Thou art, nor are 
 they as Thou their Creator art; compared with 
 Whom, they are neither beautiful, nor good, nor are. 
 This we know, thanks be to Thee. And our knowl- 
 edge, compared with Thy knowledge, is ignorance. 
 
 V. 7. But how didst Thou make the heaven and 
 the earth f and what was the engine of Thy so 
 mighty fabric ? For it was not as a human artificer, 
 forming one body from another, according to the dis- 
 cretion of his mind, which can in some way invest 
 with such a form, as it seeth in itself by its inward 
 eye. And whence should he be able to do this, un- 
 less Thou hadst made that mind ? for he invests 
 with a form what already exists and has a being, as 
 clay, or stone, or wood, or gold, or the like. And 
 whence should they be, hadst not Thou appointed 
 them ? Thou madest the artificer's body ; his mind 
 commanding his limbs ; the matter whereof he 
 makes anything ; the apprehension whereby to take 
 in his art, and see within, what he doth without ; tlu', 
 sense of his body, whereby, as by an interpreter, he 
 may from mind to matter convey that which he 
 doth, and report to his mind what is done ; that his 
 mind may consult the truth, which presideth over it, 
 whether it be well done or no. All these praise 
 Thee, the Creator of all. But how dost Thou make
 
 306 God does not create from cxif-tincf materials. 
 
 
 
 them ? how, O God, didst Thou make heaven and 
 earth ? Verily, neither in the heaven, nor in the 
 earth, didst Thou make heaven and earth : nor in 
 the air, or waters, seeing these also belong to the 
 heaven and the earth ; nor in the whole world didst 
 Thou make the whole world ; 'because there was no 
 place where to make it, before it was made, that it 
 might be. Nor- didst Thou hold anything in Thy 
 hand, whereof to make heaven and earth. For 
 whence shouldest Thou have this, which Thou hadst 
 not made, thereof to make anything? For what is,, 
 but because Thou art ? Therefore TJiou spakest, 
 and they were made, and in Thy Word Thou mod- 
 est them. 
 
 VI. 8. But how didst Thou speak? In the 
 way that the voice came out of the cloud, saying, 
 This is my beloved Son? 1 For that voice passed by 
 and passed away, began and ended ; the syllables 
 sounded and passed away, the second after the first, 
 the third after the second, and so forth in order, un- 
 til the last after the rest, and silence after the last. 
 Whence it is abundantly clear and plain that the 
 motion of a creature expressed it, itself temporal, 
 serving Thy eternal will. And these Thy words, 
 created for a time, the outward ear reported to the 
 intelligent soul, whose inward ear lay listening to 
 Thy Eternal Word. But she compared these words 
 sounding in time, with Thy Eternal Word in silence, 
 and said, " It is different, far different. These words 
 are far beneath me, nor are they, because they flee 
 
 l Matt. iii. 17, xvii. 5.
 
 The creative word not vocal. 307 
 
 and pass away ; but the Word of my Lord abideth 
 above me forever" If, then, in sounding and passing 
 words Thou saidst that heaven and earth should be 
 made, and so madest lieaven and earth, there was 
 a corporeal creature before heaven and earth, by 
 whose motions in time that voice might take his 
 course in time. But there was nought corporeal be- 
 fore heaven and earth; or if there were, surely Thou 
 hadst, without such a passing voice, created that 
 whereof to make this passing voice, by which to say, 
 Let the heaven and the earth be made. For whatso- 
 ever that were, whereof such a voice were made, un- 
 less by Thee it were made, it could not be at all. 
 By what Word then didst Thou speak, that a sub- 
 stance might be made, whereby these words again 
 might be made ? 
 
 VII. 9. Thou callest us then to understand the 
 Word, God with Thee God, Which is spoken eter- 
 nally, and by It are all things spoken eternally. For 
 what was spoken was not spoken successively, one 
 thing concluded that the next might be spoken, but 
 all things together and eternally. Else have we 
 time and change ; and not a true eternity nor true 
 immortality. This I know, O my God, and give 
 thanks. I know, I confess to Thee, O Lord, and 
 with me doth know and bless Thee, whoso is not 
 unthankful to assured Truth. We know, Lord, we 
 know; since, inasmuch as anything is not, which was, 
 and is, which was not, so far forth it dieth and aris- 
 eth. Nothing then of Thy Word doth give place or 
 succeed, because It is truly immortal and eternal.
 
 308 The eternal Word 
 
 And therefore unto the Word coeternal with Thee 
 Thou dost at once and eternally say all that Thou 
 dost say ; and whatever Thou sayest shall be made, 
 is made ; nor dost Thou make, otherwise than by 
 saying ; and yet are not all things made together, or 
 everlasting, which Thou makest by saying. 
 
 VIII. 10. Why, I beseech Thee, O Lord my 
 God ? I see it in a way ; but how to express it, I 
 know not, unless it be, that whatsoever begins to be, 
 and leaves off to be, begins then, and leaves off 
 then, when in Thy eternal Reason it is known, that 
 it ought to begin or leave off; in which Reason It- 
 self, nothing beginneth or leaveth off. This is Thy 
 Word, which is also " the Beginning, because also It 
 spedketh unto us" 1 Thus, in the Gospel, He speaketh 
 through the flesh ; and this sounded outwardly in 
 the ears of men, that it might be believed, and 
 sought inwardly, and found in the eternal Verity ; 
 where the good and only Master teacheth all His 
 disciples. There, Lord, hear I Thy voice speaking 
 unto me ; because He speaketh unto us, Who teach- 
 eth us. But he that teacheth us not, though He 
 speaketh, to us He speaketh not. Who now teach- 
 eth us, but the unchangeable Truth ? for even when 
 we are admonished through a changeable creature, 
 we are but led to the unchangeable Truth ; where 
 we learn truly, while we stand and hear Him, and 
 rejoice greatly because of the Bridegroom 's voice, 
 restoring us to Him, from Whom we are. And He 
 is therefore the Beginning, because unless He abide, 
 
 l John viii. 25.
 
 is the Creator. 309 
 
 there should not be whither to return, when we 
 went astray. But when we return from error, it is 
 through knowing that we return ; and that we may 
 know, He teacheth us, because He is the Beginning , 
 and spedketh unto us. 
 
 IX. 11. In this Beginning, O God, hast Thou 
 made heaven and earth, in Thy Word, in Thy Son, in 
 Thy Power, in Thy "Wisdom, in Thy Truth ; won- 
 drously speaking, and wondrously making. Who 
 shall comprehend ? Who declare it ? What is that 
 which gleams through me, and strikes my heart 
 without hurting it, and I shudder and kindle ? I 
 shudder, inasmuch as I am unlike it ; I kindle, inas- 
 much as I am like it. It is Wisdom, Wisdom's self 
 which gleameth through me ; disparting my cloudi- 
 ness which yet again mantles over me, shrinking 
 from it, through the darkness which for my punish- 
 ment gathers upon me. For my strength is brought 
 down in need, so that I cannot support my blessings, 
 till Thou, Lord, Who hast been gracious to all mine 
 iniquities, shalt heal all my infirmities. For Thou 
 shalt also redeem my life from corruption, and 
 crown me with loving-kindness and tender mercies, 
 and shalt satisfy my desire with good things, be- 
 cause my youth shall be renewed like an eaglets* 
 For in hope ice are saved, wherefore ice through pa- 
 tience wait for Thy promises. Let him that is able, 
 hear Thee inwardly discoursing. I will boldly cry 
 out of Thy oracle, How wonderful are Thy Works, 
 Lord, in Wisdom hast Thou made them all? 
 
 1 Ts. ciii. 3 sq 2 Ps. civ. 24.
 
 310 The difference between 
 
 And this Wisdom is the Beginning, and in that Be- 
 ginning didst Thou make heaven and earth. 
 
 X. 12. Lo, are they not full of their old leaven, 
 who say to us, " What was God doing before He 
 made heaven and earth?" "For if (say they) lie 
 were unemployed and wrought not, why does He 
 not also henceforth, and forever, as He did hei'eto- 
 fore ? For did any new motion arise in God, and a 
 new will to make a creature, which he had never be- 
 fore made, how then would that be a true eternity, 
 where there ariseth a will, which was not ? For the 
 will of God is not a creature, but before the crea- 
 ture ; seeing nothing could be created, unless the 
 will of the Creator had preceded. The will of God, 
 then, belongeth to His very Substance. And if 
 aught have arisen in God's Substance, which before 
 was not, that Substance cannot be truly called eter 
 nal. But if the will of God has been from eternity 
 that the creature should be, why was not the crea- 
 ture from eternity?" 
 
 XI. 13. They who speak thus, do not yet under- 
 stand Thee, O Wisdom of God, Light of s6uls ; 
 understand not yet how the things be made, which 
 by Thee, and in Thee are made : yet they strive to 
 comprehend things eternal, whilst their heart flutter- 
 eth between the motions of things past . and to 
 come, and is still unstable. Who shall hold their 
 heart, and fix it, that it be settled awhile, and awhile 
 catch the glory of that ever-fixed Eternity, and com- 
 pare it with the times which are never fixed, and see 
 that it cannot be compared ; and that a long time
 
 time and eternity. 311 
 
 cannot become long but out of many motions pass- 
 ing by, which motions cannot be prolonged alto- 
 gether ; but that in the Eternal nothing passeth, but 
 the whole is present ; whereas no time is all at once 
 present : and that all time past is driven on by time 
 to come, and all to come followeth upon the past ; 
 and all past and to come, is created, and flows out of 
 that which is ever present? Who shall hold the 
 heart of man, that it may stand still, and see how 
 eternity ever still-standing, neither past nor to come, 
 uttereth the times past an'd to come ? Can my hand 
 do this, or the hand of my mouth by speech bring 
 about a thing so great ? 
 
 XII. 14. See, I answer him that asketh, ""What 
 did God before He made heaven and earth f" I an- 
 swer not as one is said to have done, merrily (elud- 
 ing the pressure of the question), "He was preparing 
 hell for pryers into mysteries." It is one tiling to an- 
 swer inquiries, another to make sport of inquirers. I 
 answer not thus ; for rather had I answer, "I know 
 not," what I know not, than so answer as to raise a 
 laugh at him who asketh deep things, and gain 
 praise as one who answereth false things. But I say 
 that Thou, our God, art the Creator of every crea- 
 ture ; and if by the name " heaven and earth," every 
 creature be understood, I boldly say, that before 
 God made heaven and earth, He did not make any- 
 thing. For if He made, what did He make but a 
 creature ? x\nd would that I knew whatsoever I de- 
 sire to know to my profit, as surely as I know that
 
 312 Time is created. 
 
 no creature was made, before there was made any 
 creature. 
 
 XIII. 15. But if any excursive brain rove over 
 the images of forepassed times, and wonder that 
 Thou the God Almighty and All-creating and All- 
 supporting, Maker of heaven and earth, didst for in- 
 numerable ages forbear from so great a work, before 
 Thou wouldest make it ; let him awake and con- 
 sider, that he wonders at false conceits. For whence 
 could innumerable ages pass by, which Thou madest 
 not, Thou the Author and Creator of all ages ? or 
 what times should there be, which were not made 
 by Thee ? or how should they pass by, if they never 
 were ? Seeing, then, Thou art the Creator of all 
 times, if any time was before Thou madest heaven 
 and earth, why say they that Thou didst forego 
 working ? For that very time didst Thou make, 
 nor could times pass by, before Thou madest those 
 times. But if before heaven and earth there was no 
 time, why is it demanded, what Thou then didst ? 
 For there was no "then," when there was no time. 
 
 16. Nor dost Thou by time precede time: else 
 shouldest Thou not precede all times. But Thou 
 precedest all things past, by the sublimity of an 
 ever-present eternity ; and 'surpassest all future be- 
 cause they are future, and when they come, they 
 shall be past ; but TJiou art the Same, and Thy 
 years fail not. Thy years neither come nor go ; 
 whereas ours both come and go, that they all may 
 come. Thy years stand together, because they do 
 stand ; nor are, departing, thrust out by coming years,
 
 The, idea of time inexplicable. 
 
 for they pass not away ; but ours shall all be, when 
 they shall be no more. Thy years are one day ; and 
 Thy day is not daily, but to-day, seeing Thy to-day 
 gives not place unto to-morrow, for neither doth it 
 replace yesterday. Thy to-day is Eternity, there- 
 fore didst Thou beget The Coeternal, to whom 
 Thou saidst, This day have I begotten Thee. 1 Thou 
 hast made all things ; and before all times Thou art; 
 neither in any time was time not. 
 
 XIV. 17. At no time, then, hadst Thou not made 
 anything, because time itself Thou madest. And no 
 times are coeternal with Thee because Thou abid- 
 est; but if they abode, they should not be times. 
 For what is time ? Who can readily and briefly ex- 
 plain this ? Who can even in thought comprehend 
 it, so as to utter a word about it ? But what in dis- 
 course do we mention more familiarly and know- 
 ingly, than time ? And we understand, when we 
 speak of it ; we understand, also, when we hear it 
 spoken of by another. What then is time ? If no 
 one asks me, I know ; if I wish to explain it to one 
 that asketh, I know not; yet I say boldly, that I 
 know that if nothing passed away, time past were 
 not ; and if nothing were coming, a time to come 
 were not ; and if nothing were, time present were 
 not. Those two times then, past and to come, how 
 are they, seeing the past now is not, and that to 
 come is not yet ? But the present, should it always 
 be present, and never pass into time past, verily it 
 should not be time, but eternity. If, therefore, time 
 
 IPs. U. 7; Heb. v. 5.
 
 314 Time present is 
 
 present, in order to be time at all, conies into exist- 
 ence only because it passes into time past, how can 
 we say that that is in existence, whose cause of be- 
 ing is that it shall not be ? How is it that we can- 
 not truly say that time is, but because it is tending 
 not to be ? 
 
 XV. 18. And yet we say, "a long time " and a "short 
 time ; " still, only of time past or to come. A long 
 time past (for example) we call an hundred years 
 since; and a long time to come, an hundred years 
 hence. But a short time past, we call (suppose) ten 
 days since; and a short time to come, ten days 
 hence. But in what sense is that long or short, 
 which is not? For the past, is not now; and the 
 future, is not yet. Let us not, then, say, " It is long ; " 
 but of the past, "It hath been long;" and of the future, 
 " It will be long." O my Lord, my Light, shall not 
 here also Thy Truth mock at man? For that past 
 time which was long, was it long when it was now 
 past, or when it was yet present? For then might 
 it be long, when there was what could be long; but 
 when past, it was no longer; wherefore, neither 
 could that be long, which was not at all. Let us not, 
 then, say, "Time past hath been long;" for we shall 
 not find what hath been long, seeing that since it 
 was past, it is no more ; but let us say, "*that present 
 time was long ; " because, when it was present, it was 
 long. For it had not yet passed away, so as not to 
 be; and therefore there was, what could be long; but 
 after it was past, that ceased also to be long, which 
 ceased to be.
 
 an indivisible moment. 315 
 
 19. Let us see; then, thou soul of man, whether 
 present time can be long.; for to thee it is given to 
 feel and to measure length of time. What wilt thou 
 answer me ? Are an hundred years, when present, a 
 long time ? See first whether an hundred years can 
 be present. For if the first of these years be now 
 current, it is present, but the other ninety and nine 
 are to come, and therefore are not yet ; but if the 
 second year be current, one is now past, another 
 present, the rest to come. And so if we assume any 
 middle year of this hundred to be present, all be- 
 fore it are passed ; all after it to come ; wherefore an 
 hundred years cannot be present. But see at least 
 whether that one which is now current, itself is pres- 
 ent; for if the current month be its first, the rest are 
 to come; if the second, the first is already past, 
 and the rest are not yet. Therefore neither is the year 
 now current present ; and if not present as a whole, 
 then is not the year present. For twelve months are 
 a year; of which, whatever be the current month is 
 present ; the rest past or to come. Although neither 
 is that current month present, but one day, only; 
 the rest being to come, if it be the first ; past, if the 
 last ; if any of the middle, then amid past and to come. 
 
 20. See how the present time, which alone we 
 found could be called long, is abridged to the length 
 scarce of one day. But let us examine that also ; 
 because, neither is one day present as a whole. For 
 it is made up of four and twenty hours of night and 
 day; of which, the first h^ath the rest to come; the 
 last hath them past; and any of the middle hath
 
 316 Contradictions involved in 
 
 those before it past, those behind it to come. Yea, 
 that one hour passeth away iu flying particles. What- 
 soever of it hath flown away, is past ; whatsoever re- 
 maineth, is to come. If an instant of time be con- 
 ceived, which cannot be divided into the smallest 
 particles of moments, that alone is it, which may be 
 called present. Which yet flies with such speed 
 from future to past, as not to be lengthened out with 
 the least stay. For if it be, it is divided into past 
 and future. The present hath no space. Where 
 then is the time which we may call long? Is it to 
 come? But, of this we do not say, "It is long," be- 
 cause it is not yet at all, so as to be long ; but we 
 say, " It will be long." When, therefore, will it be 
 long? For if, while it is yet in the future, it cannot 
 be long (because what does not exist cannot be long), 
 and, therefore, can be long only when from the fu- 
 ture, which as yet is not, it shall begin now to be, and 
 have become present, that so there should exist what 
 maybe long, if this be so, then does time present 
 cry out, in the words above, that it cannot be long. 
 
 XVI. 21. And yet, Lord, we perceive intervals of 
 times, and compare them, and say, some are shorter, 
 and others longer. We measure, also, how much 
 longer or shorter this time is than that ; and we an- 
 swer, " This is double, or treble, and that, but once, 
 or only just so much as that." But we measure times 
 as they arc passing, by perceiving them ; but past, 
 which now are not, or the future, which are not yet, 
 who can measure? unless a man shall presume to say, 
 that can be measured which is not. When the time
 
 the idea of time. 317 
 
 is passing, it may be perceived and measured ; but 
 when it is past, it cannot, because it is not. 
 
 XVII. 22. I ask, Father, I affirm not; O my God, 
 rule and guide me. Who will tell me that there 
 are not three times (as we learned when boys, and 
 taught boys), past, present, and future, but only one, 
 the present, because those two are not? Or are they 
 also ; and when from future it becometh present, 
 doth it come out of some secret place; and so, when 
 retiring, from present it becometh past ? For where 
 did they, who foretold things to come, see them, if 
 as yet they be not? For that which is not, cannot 
 be seen. And they who relate things past, could not 
 relate them, if in mind they did not discern them, 
 and if they were not, they could no way be dis- 
 cerned. Things then past and to come are. 
 
 XVIII. 23. Permit me, Lord, to seek further. O 
 my Hope, let not my purpose be confounded. For 
 if times past and to come be, I would know where 
 they be. Which yet if I cannot, yet I know, \vhere- 
 ever they be, they are not there as future, or past, 
 but present. For if there also they be future, they 
 are not yet there ; if there also they be past, they are 
 no longer there. Wheresoever then is whatsoever 
 is, it is only as present. Although when past facts 
 are related, there are drawn out of the memory, not 
 the things themselves which are past, but words, 
 which, conceived by the images of the things, they, 
 in passing, have through the senses left as traces in* 
 the mind. Thus my childhood, which now is not, is 
 in time past, which now is not ; but now when I re- 
 
 23
 
 318 Past and future conceived as present. 
 
 call its image, and tell of it, I behold it in the present, 
 because it is still in my memory. Whether there be a 
 like cause of foretelling things to come also, so that of 
 things which as yet are not, the images may be per- 
 ceived before already existing, I confess, O my God, 
 I know not. This indeed I know, that we generally 
 think before on our future actions, and that that fore- 
 thinking is present, but the action whereof we fore- 
 think is not yet, because it is to come. Which, when 
 we have set upon, and have begun to do what we 
 were forethinking, then shall that action be; because 
 then it is no longer future, but present. 
 
 24. Which way soever, then, this secret fore-pe 
 ceiving of things to come be, that only can be seen 
 which is. But what now is, is not future, but pres- 
 ent. When, then, things to come are said to be seen, 
 it is not themselves, which as yet are not (that is, 
 which are to be), but their causes, perchance, or signs, 
 are seen," which already are. Therefore they are not 
 future but present to those who now see that from 
 which the future, being fore-conceived in the mind, is 
 foretold. Which fore-conceptions again now are ; 
 and those who foretell those things, do behold the 
 conceptions present before them. Let now the nu- 
 merous variety of things furnish me some example. 
 I behold the daybreak, I foretell that the sun is about 
 to rise. What I behold, is present; what I fore-sig- 
 nify, to come ; not the sun, which already is; but the 
 .sun-rising, which is not yet. And yet did I not in 
 my mind imagine the sun-rising itself (as now while 
 I speak of it), I could not foretell it. But neither is
 
 God ' foreknowledge inexplicable. 319 
 
 that day-break, which I discern in the sky, the sun- 
 rising, although it goes before it ; nor that imagina- 
 tion of my mind ; which two are seen now present, 
 that the other which is to be may be foretold. Fu- 
 ture things then are not yet ; and if they be not yet, 
 they are not ; and if they are not, they cannot be 
 seen ; yet foretold they may be from things present, 
 which are already, and are seen.. 
 
 XIX. 25. Thou, then, Ruler of Thy creation, by 
 what way dost Thou teach souls things to come? 
 For Thou didst teach Thy Prophets. By what way 
 dost Thou, to Whom nothing is to dome, teach things 
 to come ; or, rather, concerning the future, dost teach 
 things present ? For, what is not, cannot be taught. 
 Too far is this way out of my ken : it is too mighty 
 for me, I cannot attain unto it / but from Thee I 
 can, when Thou shalt vouchsafe it, O sweet Light of 
 my hidden eyes. 
 
 XX. 26. What now is clear and plain is, that 
 neither things to come nor past are. Nor is it prop- 
 erly said, " There be three times, past, present, and to 
 come : " yet perchance it might be properly said, 
 "There be three times; a present of things past, a 
 present of things present, and a present of things fu- 
 ture." For these three do exist, in some sort, in the 
 soul, but otherwise do I not see them : a present of 
 things past, memory; a present of things present, 
 sight ; a present of things future, expectation. If 
 thus we be permitted to speak, I see three times, and 
 I confess there are three. Let it be said, too, "There 
 be three times, past, present, and to come," in our in-
 
 320 How time is measured. 
 
 correct way. See, I object not, nor gainsay, nor find 
 fault, if what is so said be but understood, that nei 
 ther what is to be, now is, nor what is past. For 
 there are but few things which we speak properly, 
 most things improperly; still the things intended arc 
 understood. 
 
 XXI. 27. I said then even now, we measure times 
 as they pass, in order to be able to say, this time is 
 twice so much as that one; or, this is just so much 
 as that; and so of any other part of time which is 
 measurable. Wherefore, as I said, we measure times 
 as they pass. And if any should ask me, " How know- 
 est Thou?" I might answer, "I know that we do 
 measure, nor can we measure things that are not; 
 and things past . and to come are not." But time 
 present how do we measure, seeing it hath no space ? 
 It is measured while passing, but when it shall have 
 passed, it is not measured ; for there will be nothing 
 to be measured. But whence, by what way, and 
 whither passes it, while it is a measuiing? whence, 
 but from the future? which way but through the 
 present? whither, but into the past? From that, 
 therefore, which is not yet, through that, which hath 
 no space, into that, which now is not. Yet what do 
 we measure, if not time in some space? For we do 
 not say single, and double, and triple, and equal, or 
 any other like way that we speak of time, except of 
 spaces of times. In what space, then, do we measure 
 time passing? In the future, into which it passes? 
 But what is not yet, we measure not. Or in the 
 present, through which it passes? But no space,
 
 Augustine prays for light. 321 
 
 we do not measure. Or in the past, to which it 
 passes ? But neither do we measure that which now 
 is not. 
 
 XXII. 28." My soul is on fire to know this most 
 intricate enigma. Shut it not up, O Lord my God, 
 good Father ; through Christ I beseech Thee, do not 
 shut up these usual, yet hidden things from my desire, 
 that it be hindered from piercing into them ; but let 
 them dawn through Thy enlightening mercy, O Lord. 
 Whom shall I inquire of concerning these things? 
 and to whom shall I more fruitfully confess my igno- 
 rance, than to Thee, to Whom these my studies, so 
 vehemently kindled towards Thy Scriptures, are not 
 so troublesome? Give what I love; for I do love, 
 and this hast Thou given me. Give, Father, Who 
 truly knowest to give good gifts unto Thy children. 
 Give, because I have taken upon me to know, and 
 trouble is before me until Thou openest it. By 
 Christ, I beseech Thee, in His Name, Holy of Holies, 
 let no man disturb me. For I believed, and therefore 
 do I speak. This is my hope, for this do I live, that 
 I may contemplate the delights of the Lord. Be- 
 hold, Thou hast made my days old, and they pass 
 away, and how, I know not. And we talk of time 
 and time, and times and times. " How long time is 
 it since he said this?" "how long time since he did 
 this?" and, "how long time since I saw that?" and, 
 "this syllable hath double time to that single short 
 syllable." These words we speak, and these we hear, 
 and are understood, and understand. Most manifest 
 and ordinary they are, and the self-same things again
 
 322 Time is not motion. 
 
 are but too deeply hidden, and the discovery of them 
 were new. 
 
 XXIII. 26. I heard once from a learned man, that 
 the motions of the sun, moon and stars- constituted 
 time, and I assented not. For why should not, 
 rather, the motions of all bodies be times? Or, if the 
 lights of heaven should cease, and a potter's wheel 
 run round, would there be no time by which we 
 might measure those whirlings, and say, that either 
 it moved. with equal pauses, or if it turned some- 
 times slower, otherwise quicker, that some rounds 
 were longer, others shorter? Or, while we were say- 
 ing this, should we not also be speaking in time ? 
 And would there not be in our words, some sylla- 
 bles short, others long, because those sounded in a 
 shorter time, these in a longer ? God grant to men 
 to see in a small thing, notices common to things 
 great and small. The stars and lights of heaven are 
 also for signs, and for seasons, and for years and for 
 days; they are ; yet neither should I say that the 
 going round of that wooden wheel was a day, nor 
 yet he, that it was therefore no time. 
 
 30. I desire to know the force and nature of time, 
 by which we measure the motions of bodies, and say, 
 for example, " This motion is twice as long as that." 
 For I ask, seeing "day" denotes not the stay only of 
 the sun upon the earth (according to which, day is 
 one thing, night another), but also its whole circuit 
 from east to east again (according to which, we say, 
 " there passed so many days," the night being inclu- 
 ded when we say, "so many days," and the nights not
 
 Time is an extension, or duration. 323 
 
 reckoned apart), seeing then a day is completed by 
 the motion of the sun, and by his circuit from east to 
 east again, I ask, does the motion alone make the 
 day, or the stay in which that motion is completed, 
 or both ? For, if the first be the day, then should we 
 have a day, although the sun should finish that course 
 in so small a space of time as one hour comes to. If 
 the second, then should not that make a day, if be- 
 tween one sun-rise and another there were but so 
 short a stay as one hour comes to ; but the sun must 
 go four and twenty times about to complete one 
 day. If both, then neither could that be called a 
 day, if the sun should run his whole round in the 
 space of one hour ; nor that, if, while the sun stood 
 still, so much time should overpass, as the sun usu- 
 ally makes his whole course in, from morning to 
 morning. I will not, therefore, now ask what that 
 is which is called day ; but, what time is, whereby 
 we, measuring the circuit of the sun, should say 
 that it was finished in half the time it was wont, if 
 so be it was finished in so small a space as twelve 
 hours ; and comparing both times, should call this a 
 single time, that a double time ; even supposing the 
 sun to run his round from east to east, sometimes in 
 that single, sometimes in that double time. Let no 
 man, then, tell me that the motions of the heavenly 
 bodies constitute times because, when at the prayer 
 of one the sun had stood still till he could achieve 
 his victorious battle, the sun stood still, but time went 
 on. For in its own allotted space of time was that
 
 324 Time is not motion. 
 
 battle waged and ended. 1 I perceive time, then, to be 
 a certain extension. But do I perceive it, or seem to 
 perceive it? Thou, Light and Truth, wilt show me. 
 XXIV. 31. Dost Thou bid me assent, if any de- 
 fine time to be "motion of a body? " Thou dost not 
 bid me. For that no body is moved, but in time, I 
 hear; this Thou sayest; but that the motion of a 
 body is time, I hear not ; Thou sayest it not. For 
 when a body is moved, I by time measure how lonji 
 it moves, from the time it began to move, until it left 
 oif. And if I did not see whence it began, and it 
 continue to move so that I see not when it ends, I 
 cannot measure, save perchance from the time I be- 
 gan to see, until I cease to see. And if I look long, 
 I can only pronounce it to be a long time, but not 
 how long; because when we say "how long," we do 
 it by comparison; as, "this is as long as that," or 
 "this twice so long as that," or the like. But when 
 we can mark the distances of the places, whence and 
 whither goeth the body moved, or its parts, if it 
 moved as in a lathe, then can we say precisely in 
 how much time the motion of that body or its part, 
 from this place unto that, was finished. Seeing, 
 therefore, the motion of a body is one thing, that by 
 which we measure how long it is, another ; who sees 
 not, which of the two is rather to be called time? 
 And if a body sometimes moves, and sometimes 
 stands still, then we measure not its motion only, but 
 its standing still, too, by time ; and we say, " it stood 
 still as much as it moved;" or, "it stood still twice 
 
 1 Joshua x. 12 8q.
 
 Augustine prays for illumination. 325 
 
 or thrice as long as it moved;" or any other space 
 which our measuring hath either ascertained, or 
 guessed ; more or less, as we used to say. Time, 
 then, is not the motion of a body. 
 
 XXV. 32. And I confess to Thee O Lord, that I 
 yet know not what time is ; and again I confess unto 
 Thee, O Lord, that I know that I speak this in time, 
 lUid that having long spoken of time, that very "long" 
 is not long, but by the pause of time. How then 
 know I this, seeing I know not what time is ? or is 
 it perchance that I know not how to express what I 
 know ? Woe is me, that do not even know what I 
 do not know. Behold, O my God, before Thee I lie 
 not; but as I speak, so is my heart. Thou shall 
 light my candle; Thou, Lord my God, wilt en- 
 lighten, my darkness. 
 
 XXVI. 3'3. Does not my soul most truly confess 
 unto Thee that I do measure times? Do I then 
 measure, O my God, and know not what I measure ? 
 I measure the motion of a body in time; and the 
 time itself do I not measure ? Or could I indeed 
 measure the motion of a body, how long it were, and 
 in how long space it could come from this place to 
 that, without measuring the time in which it is 
 moved? This same time, then, how do I measure ? do 
 we by a shorter time measure a longer, as by the space 
 .of a cubit, the space of a rood? for so indeed we seem 
 by the space of a short syllable, to measure the space 
 of a long syllable, and to say that this is double the 
 other. Thus measure we the spaces of stanzas by 
 the spaces of the verses, and the spaces of the verse
 
 326 Short times measure long times. 
 
 by the spaces of the feet, and the spaces of the feet 
 by the spaces of the syllables, and the spaces of long 
 by the spaces of short syllables, not measuring by pa- 
 ges (for then we measui-e spaces, not times) ; but 
 when we utter the words and they pass by, we say, 
 " It is a long stanza, because composed of so many 
 verses ; long verses, because consisting of so many 
 feet ; long feet, because prolonged by so many sylla- 
 bles ; a long syllable, because double to a short one." 
 But neither do we this way obtain any certain meas- 
 ure of time ; because it may be that a shorter verse, 
 pronounced more fully, may take up more time 
 than a longer, pronounced hurriedly. And so for a 
 verse, a foot, a syllable. Whence it seemed to me, 
 that time is nothing else than protraction ; but of 
 what, I know not. And I wonder whether it be not 
 of the mind itself? For what, I beseech Thee, O -my 
 God, do I measure, when I say, either indefinitely, 
 "this is a longer time than, that," or definitely, "this 
 is double that ? " That I measure time, I know ; and 
 yet I measure not time to come, for it is not yet ; nor 
 present, because it is not protracted by any space ; nor 
 past, because it now is not. What then do I meas- 
 ure ? Times passing, not past ? for so I said. 
 
 XXVII. 34. Courage, my mind, and press on 
 mightily. God is our helper, He made w.s, and not 
 we ourselves. Press on where truth begins to dawn. 
 Suppose, now, the voice of a body begins to sound, 
 and does sound, and sounds on, and list, it ceases ; it 
 is silence now, and that voice is past, and is no more 
 a voice. Before it sounded, it was to come, and
 
 Difficulties and contradictions. 327 
 
 could not be measured, because as yet it was not, and 
 now it cannot, because it is no longer. Then, there- 
 fore, while it sounded, it might ; because there then 
 was what might be measured. But yet even then it 
 was not at a stay ; for it was passing on, and passing 
 away. Could it be measured the rather, for that ? 
 For, while passing, it was being extended into some 
 space of time, so that it might be measured, since the 
 present hath no space. If, therefore, then it might, 
 then, lo, suppose another voice hath begun to sound, 
 and still soundeth in one continued tenor, without 
 any interruption ; let us measure it while it sounds ; 
 seeing when it hath left sounding, it will then be 
 past, and nothing left to be measured ; let us meas- 
 ure it verily, and tell how much it is. But it sotmds 
 still, nor can it be measured but from the instant it be- 
 gan in, unto the end it left off in. For the very space 
 between is the thing we measure ; namely, from some 
 beginning, unto some end. "Wherefore, a voice that 
 is not yet ended, cannot be measured, so that it may 
 be said how long, or short it is ; nor can it be called 
 equal to another, or double to a single, or the like. 
 But when ended, it no longer is. How may it then 
 be measured ? And yet we measure times ; but yet 
 neither those which are not yet, nor those which no 
 longer are, nor those which are not lengthened out by 
 some pause, nor those which have no bounds. We 
 measure neither times to come, nor past, nor present, 
 nor passing ; and yet we do measure times. 
 
 35. "Deus Creator omnium," this verse of eight 
 syllables alternates between short and long syllables.
 
 328 Time is measured 
 
 The four short, then (the first, third, fifth, and sev- 
 enth), are but single, in respect of the four long (the 
 second, fourth, sixth, and eighth). Every one of the 
 latter hath a double time to every one of the former ; 
 I pronounce them, report on them, and find it so, as 
 one's plain sense perceives. By plain sense, then, I 
 measure a long syllable by a short, and I sensibly find 
 it to have twice so much ; but when one sounds after 
 the other, if the former be short, the latter long, how- 
 shall I detain the short one, and how, measuring, 
 shall I apply it to the long, that I may find this to 
 have twice so much ; seeing the long does not begin 
 to sound unless the short leaves sounding? And 
 that long one itself, I do not measure while present, 
 seeing I measure it not till it be ended ? Now its 
 ending is its passing away. What then is it I meas- 
 ure? where is the short syllable by which I meas- 
 ure? where the long .which I measure? Both have 
 sounded, have flown, passed away, are no more; 
 and yet I measure, and confidently answer (so far as 
 is presumed on a practised sense), that as to space 
 of time this syllable is but single, that double. And 
 yet I could not do this, unless they were already past 
 and ended. It is not, then, themselves, which now 
 are not, that I measure, but something in my mem- 
 ory, which there remains fixed. 
 
 36. It is in thee, my mind, that I measure times. 
 Interrupt me not, that is, interrupt not thyself with 
 the tumults of thy impressions. In thee I measure 
 times ; the impression, which things as they pass by 
 cause in thee, remains even when they are gone ;
 
 only when past. 329 
 
 this it is which still present, I measure, and not the 
 things which pass by to make this impression. This 
 I measure, when I measure times. Either, then, this 
 is time, or I do not measure times. How is it then, 
 when we measure silence, and say that this silence 
 hath held as long time as did that voice ? do we not 
 stretch out our thought to the measure of a voice, 
 as if it sounded ; that so we may be able to report of 
 the intervals of silence in a given space of time ? For 
 though both voice and tongue be still, yet in thought 
 we go over poems, and verses, and any other discourse, 
 or dimensions of motions, and report as to the spaces 
 of times, how much this is in respect of that, no 
 otherwise than if vocally we did pronounce them. 
 If a man would utter a lengthened sound, and had 
 settled in thought how long it should be, he hath in 
 silence already gone through a space of time, and, 
 committing it to memory, begins to utter that speech, 
 which sounds on, until it be brought unto the end 
 proposed. Yea it hath sounded, and will sound ; for 
 so much of it as is finished, hath sounded already, 
 and the rest will sound. And thus passeth it on, 
 until the present intent conveys over the future into 
 the past; the past increasing by the diminution of 
 the future, until by the consumption of the future, all 
 is past. 
 
 XXVIII. 37. But how is that future diminished or 
 consumed, which as yet is not? or how that past in- 
 creased, which is now no longer, unless because that 
 in the mind which enacts this, there be three things 
 done ? For it expects, it considers (attendit), it re-
 
 330 Time is measured in the mind. 
 
 members ; in such way that that which it expects, 
 through that which it considers, passes into that which 
 it remembers. Who therefore denies that -things to 
 come are not as yet ? and yet, there is in the mind an 
 expectation of things to come. And who denies past 
 things to be now no longer? and yet there is still in 
 the mind a memory of things past. And who denies 
 that the present time hath no space, because it passes 
 away in a moment? and yet our consideration (at- 
 tentio) continues, through which that which shall 
 be present proceeds to become absent. It is not 
 then future time, that is long, for as yet it is not ; 
 but a " long future," is " a long expectation of the fu- 
 ture." Nor is it time past, which now is not, that is 
 long ; but a " long past," is " a long memory of the 
 paste" 
 
 38. I am about to repeat a Psalm that I know. 
 Before I begin, my expectation is extended over the 
 whole ; but when I have begun, how much soever of 
 it I shall separate off into the past, is extended along 
 my memory; thus the life of this action of mine is 
 divided between my memory as to what I have re- 
 peated, and expectation as to what I am about to re- 
 peat; but "consideration" (attentio) is present with 
 me, that through it, what was future may be con- 
 veyed over, so as to become past. Which the more 
 it is done again and again, so much the more the ex- 
 pectation being shortened, is the memory enlarged; 
 till the whole expectation be at length exhausted, 
 when that whole action being ended, shall have 
 passed into memory. And this which takes place in
 
 All distractions harmonized in God. 331 
 
 the whole Psalm, takes place in each several portion 
 of it, and each several syllable ; the same holds in 
 that longer action, whereof this Psalm may be a 
 part; the same holds in the whole life of man, 
 whereof all the actions of man are parts; the same 
 holds through the whole age of the sons of men, 
 whereof all the lives of men are parts. 
 
 XXIX. 39. But because Thy loving kindness is 
 better than all lives, behold, my life is but a distrac- 
 tion, and Tliy right hand upheld me, in my Lord 
 the Son of Man, the Mediator beticixt Thee, The 
 One, and us many (many also through our manifold 
 distractions amid many things), that by Him I may 
 apprehend in Whom I have been apprehended, and 
 may be re-collected from my old conversation, to fol- 
 low The One, forgetting what is behind, and? not 
 distended, but extended, not to things which shall be 
 and shall pass away, but to those things ichich are 
 before, not distractedly but intently follow on for the 
 prize of my heavenly calling where I may hear the 
 voice of Thy praise, and contemplate Thy delights, 
 ever coming, never passing away. But now are my 
 years spent in mourning. And Thou, O Lord, art 
 my comfort, my Father everlasting. But I have been 
 severed amid times, whose order I know not; and 
 my thoughts, even the inmost bowels of my soul, are 
 rent and mangled with tumultuous varieties, until I 
 flow together into Thee, purified and molten by the 
 fire of Thy love. 
 
 XXX. 40. And now will I stand, and become solid 
 in Thee, in my mould, Thy truth ; nor will I endure
 
 332 Time is created. 
 
 the questions of men, who by a penal disease thirst 
 for more than they can contain, and say, " What did 
 God before He made heaven and earth?" " Or, how 
 came it into His mind to make anything, having 
 never made anything ? " Give them, O Lord, to be- 
 think themselves what they say, and to find that 
 "never" cannot be predicated, when "time" is not. 
 This, then, that He is said " never to have made ;" 
 what else is it than to say, "in 'no time' to have 
 made ? " Let them see, therefore, that time cannot 
 be -without created being, and cease to speak that 
 vanity. May they also be extended towards those 
 things which are before; and understand Thee be- 
 fore all times the eternal Creator of all times, and 
 that no times be coeternal with Thee, nor any crea- 
 ture, even if there be any creature before all times. 
 
 XXXI. 41. O Lord my God, what a depth is that 
 recess of Thy mysteries, and how far from it have the 
 consequences of my transgressions cast me ! Heal 
 mine eyes that I may share the joy of Thy light. 
 Certainly, if there be a mind gifted with such vast 
 knowledge and foreknowledge as to know all things 
 past and to come, as I know one well-known Psalm, 
 truly that mind is passing wonderful, and fearfully 
 amazing ; in that, nothing past, nothing to come in 
 after ages, is any more hidden from him, than when 
 I sung that Psalm, was hidden from me, what, and 
 how much of it had passed away from the beginning, 
 what, and how much there "remained unto the end. 
 But far be it, that Thou, the Creator of the universe, 
 the Creator of souls and bodies, far be it, that Thou
 
 God's cognition different from man's. 333 
 
 shouldest in such wise know all past and to. come- 
 Far, far more wonderfully, and far more mysteri- 
 ously, dost Thou know them. For not as the feel- 
 ings of one who sings what he knows, or hears some 
 well-known song, through expectation of the words 
 to come, and the remembering of those that are past, 
 are varied, and his senses divided, not so doth any 
 thing happen unto Thee, unchangeably eternal, that 
 is, the Eternal Creator of minds. As, then, Thou in 
 the Beginning knewest the heaven and the earthy 
 without any variety of Thy knowledge, so madest 
 Thou in the beginning, heaven and earth, without 
 any distraction of thy action. Whoso understand- 
 eth, let him confess unto Thee ; and whoso under- 
 standeth not, let him confess unto Thee. Oh, how 
 high art Thou ! and yet the humble in heart are Thy 
 dwelling-place ; for Thou raisest iip those that are 
 bowed down, and they fall not, whose elevation Thou 
 
 art. 
 
 24
 
 THE TWELFTH BOOK. 
 
 AUGUSTINE PROCEEDS TO COMMENT ON GENESIS I. 1, AND EXPLAINS 
 THE "HEAVEN" TO MEAN THAT SPIRITUAL, AND INCORPOREAL, 
 CREATION, WHICH CLEAVES TO GOD UNINTERMITTINGLY, ALWAYS 
 BEHOLDING HIS COUNTENANCE "EARTH," THE FORMLESS MATTER 
 WHEREOF THE CORPOREAL CREATION WAS AFTERWARDS FORMED 
 HE DOES NOT REJECT, HOWEVER, OTHER INTERPRETATIONS, WHICH 
 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 FBOM ITS WORDS, DOES, IN FACT, LIE CONCEALED IN 
 
 THEM. 
 
 I. 1. My heart, Lord, touched with the words 
 of Thy holy Scripture, is much busied, amid this 
 poverty of my life. And therefore, oftentimes, is the 
 poverty of human understanding copious in words, 
 because inquiring hath more to say than discovering, 
 and demanding is longer than obtaining, and our 
 hand that knocks hath more work to do than our 
 hand that receives. But we have the promise (who 
 shall make it null ?) : If God be for us, who can be 
 against us? Ask, and ye shall have/ seek, and ye 
 shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. 
 For every one that asketh, receiveth ; and he that 
 seeketh,findeth / and to him that knocketh, shall it be 
 opened* These are Thine own promises ; and who 
 
 11 Matt vii. 7.
 
 T/te visible and invisible heavens. 335 
 
 need fear to be deceived, when the Truth prom- 
 iseth? 
 
 II. 2. The lowliness of my tongue confesseth unto 
 Thy Highness, that Thou madest heaven and earth; 
 this heaven which I see, and this earth that I tread 
 upon, whence also is this earth that I bear about 
 me, Thou madest it. But where is that heaven of 
 heavens, O Lord, which we hear of in the words of 
 the Psalm : The heaven of heavens are the Lord's; 
 but the earth hath He given to the children of men? 1 
 Where is that heaven which we see not, and, com- 
 pared with which, all this which we see is earth? 
 For this corporeal whole, not being wholly every- 
 where, hath in such wise received its portion of 
 beauty in these lower parts, whereof the lowest is 
 this our earth; but in comparison to that heaven 
 of heavens, even the heaven of our earth is but 
 earth : yea, both these great bodies may not absurdly 
 be called earth, when compared to that unknown 
 heaven, which is the lord's, not the sons' of men. 
 
 III. 3. And now this earth was invisible and with- 
 out form, and there was I know not what depth of 
 abyss, upon which there was no light, because it had 
 no shape. Therefore didst Thou command it to be 
 written, that darkness was upon the face of the dj>, 
 what else than the absence of light? For had 
 there been light, where should it have been but by 
 being over all, aloft, and enlightening? Where then 
 light was not, what was the presence of darkness, 
 but the absence of light ? Darkness, therefore, was 
 
 1 Ts. cxv. 16
 
 336 Trie primitive formless chaos. 
 
 upon it, because light was not upon it ; as where 
 sound is not, there is silence. And what is it to have 
 silence there, but to have no sound there ? Hast not 
 Thou, O Lord, taught this soul, which confesseth 
 unto Thee ? Hast not Thou taught me, Lord, that 
 before Thou didst form and diversify this formless 
 matter, there was nothing ; neither color, nor figure, 
 nor body, nor spirit ? And yet not altogether no- 
 . thing ; for there was a certain formlessness, without 
 any beauty. 
 
 IV. 4. How then should it be called, that it might 
 be in some measure conveyed to those of duller 
 mind, but by some ordinary word? And what, 
 among all parts of the world, can be found nearer to 
 an absolute formlessness, than earth and deep? For, 
 occupying the lowest stage, they are less beautiful 
 than the other higher parts are, transparent all and 
 shining. "Wherefore, then, may I not conceive the 
 formlessness of matter (which Thou hadst created 
 without beauty, whereof to make this beautiful 
 world) to be suitably intimated unto men, by the 
 name of earth invisible and without form. 
 
 V. 5. So that when thought seeketh what the 
 sense may conceive under this, and saith to itself, 
 "It is no intellectual form, as life, or justice, because 
 it is the matter of bodies; nor object of sense, be- 
 cause, being invisible and without form, there was in 
 it no object of sight or sense," while man's thought 
 thus saith to itself, it may endeavor either to know 
 it, by being ignorant of it; or to be ignorant, by 
 knowing iu
 
 Augustine is unable to conceive the formless. 337 
 
 VI. 6. But I, Lord (if I would by my tongue and 
 my pen confess unto Thee the whole that Thyself 
 hath taught me of that matter, the name whereof 
 hearing and not understanding, when they who un- 
 derstood it not told me of it), so conceived of it, as 
 having innumerable forms, and diverse. And there- 
 fore I did not clearly conceive it at all. My mind 
 tossed up and down foul and horrible " forms " out 
 of all order, but yet "forms;" and I called it with- 
 out form, not because it wanted all form, but be- 
 cause it had such as my mind would, if presented to 
 it, turn from, as unwonted and jarring, and human 
 frailness would be troubled at. And still, that which 
 I conceived was without form, not as being deprived 
 of all form, but in comparison of more beautiful 
 forms ; and true reason did persuade me, that I must 
 utterly uncase it of all remnants of form whatso- 
 ever, if I would conceive matter absolutely without 
 form; and I could not; for sooner could I imagine 
 that which should be deprived of all form not to be, 
 than conceive a thing betwixt form and nothing, 
 neither formed, nor nothing, a, formless almost noth- 
 ing. So my mind gave over to question thereupon 
 with my spirit, it being filled with the images of 
 formed bodies, and changing and varying them, as it 
 willed ; and I bent myself to the bodies themselves, 
 and looked more deeply into their changeableness, 
 by which they cease to be what they have been, and 
 begin to be what they were not ; and this same shift- 
 ing from form to form, I suspected to be through a 
 certain formless state, not through a mere nothing ;
 
 338 God does not create from his own 
 
 yet this I longed to know, not to suspect only. But 
 if my voice and pen confessed unto Thee the whole, 
 whatsoever knots Thou didst open for me in this 
 question, what reader would hold out to take in the 
 whole ? But my heart shall not cease to give Thee 
 honor, and a song of praise, for those things which 
 it is not able to express. The changeableness of 
 changeable things is itself capable of all those forms, 
 into which these changeable things are changed. 
 But this changeableness, what is it ? Is it soul ? Is 
 it body ? Is it that which constituteth soul or body ? 
 If one might use the phrase " a nothing something," 
 an " is, is not," I would say this were it : and yet in 
 some way it even then was, as being capable of re- 
 ceiving these visible and compound figures. 
 
 VII. 7. But whence had it this degree of being, 
 but from Thee, from Whom are all things, so far 
 forth as they are ? but so much the further from 
 Thee, as the unliker Thee ; for it is not distance in 
 space which makes the difference. Thou, therefore, 
 Lord, Who art not one in one place, and otherwise 
 in another, but the Self-same, and the Self-same, and 
 the Self-same, Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Al- 
 mighty, didst in the Beginning, which is of Thee, in 
 Thy Wisdom, which was born of Thine own Sub- 
 stance, create something, and that out of nothing. 
 For Thou createdst heaven and earth; not out of 
 Thyself; for so should they have been equal to 
 Thine Only Begotten Son, and thereby to Thee 
 also; whereas no way were it right that aught 
 should be equal to Thee, which was not of Thee.
 
 substance, but from nothing. 339 
 
 And aught else beside Thee was there not, whereof 
 Thou mightest create them, O God, One Trinity, and 
 Trine Unity; and therefore out of nothing didst 
 Thou create heaven and earth, a great thing, and a 
 small thing; for Thou art Almighty and Good, to 
 make all things good, even the great heaven^ and the 
 petty earth. Thou wert, and nothing was there be- 
 sides, out of which Thou createdst heaven and earth, 
 things of two sorts; one near Thee, the other 
 near to nothing; one, to which Thou alone should- 
 est be superior, the other, to which nothing should 
 be inferior. 
 
 VIII. 8. But that Jieaven of heavens was for Thy- 
 self, Lord; and the earth which Thou gavest to 
 the sons of men, to be seen and felt, was not such as 
 we now see and feel. For it was invisible, without 
 form, and there was a deep, upon which there was 
 no light; or darkness was above the deep, that is, 
 more than in the deep. Because this deep of waters, 
 visible now, hath even in its depths a light proper 
 for its nature ; perceivable in some degree unto the 
 fishes, and creeping things in the bottom of it. But 
 that whole deep was almost nothing, because hith- 
 erto it was altogether without form; yet there was 
 already that which could be formed. For Thou, 
 Lord, ruadest the world of a matter without form, 
 which, out of nothing, Thou madest next to nothing, 
 thereof to make those great things which we sons of 
 men wonder at. For very wonderful is this corpo- 
 real heaven ; the firmament between water and water, 
 of which upon the second day, after the creation of
 
 340 The heaven of heavens is 
 
 light, Thou saidst, Let it be made, and it was made. 
 Which firmament Thou calledst heaven; the heaven, 
 that is, to this earth and sea, which Thou madest the 
 third day, by giving a visible figure to the formless 
 matter which Thou madest before all days. For al- 
 ready hadst Thou made an heaven before all days, 1 
 but that was the heaven of this heaven ; because In 
 the beginning Thou hadst made heaven and earth. 
 But this same earth which Thou madest, was form- 
 less matter, because it was invisible and without 
 form, and darkness was upon the deep, of which 
 invisible earth and without form, of which formless- 
 ness, of which almost nothing, Thou mightest make 
 all these things of which this changeable world con- 
 sists, but does not subsist ; whose very changeable- 
 ness appears therein, that times can be observed and 
 numbered in it. For times are made by the alter- 
 ations of things, which result from the variation of 
 the figures (species) which constitute the matter of 
 the invisible earth aforesaid. 
 
 IX. 9. And therefore the Spirit, the Teacher of 
 Thy servant, when it recounts Thee to have In the 
 Beginning created heaven and earth, speaks nothing 
 of times, nothing of days. For verily that heaven 
 of heavens which Thou createdst in the Beginning, 
 is some intellectual creature, which, although no 
 
 1 Augustine here anticipates the modern geological exegesis, which 
 places an indefinite space of time between the action designated in the 
 first verse of Genesis, and that designated in the second and succeeding 
 verses. The first, or most absolute act of creative power, is the creation 
 of chaos, " before all [six] days; " then succeeds the cosmical formation 
 of this chaotic matter, iu the six days' work. ED.
 
 the intelligible world. 341 
 
 ways coeternal unto Thee, the Trinity, yet partaketh 
 of Thy eternity, and doth through the sweetness of 
 that most happy contemplation of Thyself, strongly 
 restrain its own changeableness ; and, without any 
 fall since its first creation, cleaving close unto Thee, 
 is placed beyond all the rolling vicissitudes of times. 
 Yea, neither is this very formlessness of the earth in- 
 visible and without form, numbered among the days. 
 For where no figure nor order is, there does nothing 
 come or go ; and where this is not, there plainly are 
 no days, nor any vicissitude of spaces of times. 
 
 X. 10. Oh, let the Light, the Truth, the Light of 
 my heart, not mine own darkness, speak unto me. I 
 fell off into that, and became darkened"; but even 
 thence, even thence I loved Thee. I went astray, 
 and remembered Thee. I heard Thy voice behind 
 me, calling to me to return, and scarcely heard it, 
 through the tumultuousness of the enemies of peace. 
 And now, behold, I return in distress, and panting 
 after Thy fountain. Let no man forbid me ! of this 
 will I drink, and so live. Let me not be my own 
 life ; from myself I lived ill ; death was I to myself, 
 and I revive in Thee. Do Thou speak unto me, do 
 Thou discourse unto me. I have believed Thy 
 Books, and their words be most full of mystery. 
 
 XI. 11. Already Thou hast told me with a strong 
 voice, O Lord, in mine inner ear, that Tihou art eter- 
 nal, Who only hast immortality: since Thou canst 
 not be changed as to figure or motion, nor is Thy 
 will altered by times, because no will which varies is 
 immortal. This is in Thy sight clear to me, and let
 
 342 The intelligible world is 
 
 it be more and more clear to me, I beseech Thee; 
 and in the manifestation thereof, let me with so- 
 briety abide under Thy wings. Thou hast told me 
 also with a strong voice, O Lord, in my inner ear, 
 that Thou hast made all natures and substances, 
 which are not what Thyself is, and yet are ; that 
 that only is not from Thee, which is not, and, also, 
 the motion of the will from Thee who art, unto 
 that which in a less degree is, because such motion 
 is transgression and sin ; and that no man's sin doth 
 either hurt Thee, or disturb the order of Thy gov- 
 ernment, first or last. This is, in Thy sight, clear 
 unto me, and let it be more and more cleared to me, 
 I beseech Thee; and in the manifestation thereof, 
 let me with sobriety abide under Thy wings. 
 
 12. Thou hast told me also with a strong voice, in 
 my inner ear, that neither is that creature coeternal 
 unto Thyself, whose happiness Thou only art, even 
 though with a most persevering purity, drawing its 
 nourishment from Thee, it should never put forth its 
 natural mutability ; and, although, Thyself being 
 ever present with it, it should with its whole affec- 
 tion keep itself to Thee, having neither future to 
 expect, nor conveying into the past what it remem- 
 bereth, neither altered by any change, nor distracted 
 into any times. O blessed creature ! if such there be, 
 cleaving unto Thy Blessedness ; blessed in Thee, its 
 eternal Inhabitant and its Enlightener! I find no 
 better name to call the heaven of heavens, which is 
 the Lord's, than Thine house, one pure mind con- 
 templating Thy beatitude, most harmoniously one,
 
 not coeternal with God. 343 
 
 in a settled peace of holy spirits, citizens of Thy city 
 in heavenly places; far above those heavenly places 
 that we see. 1 
 
 13. The soul, whose pilgrimage is long and far 
 away by this may understand, if she now thirsts for 
 Thee, if her tears be now become her bread, while tliey 
 daily say unto her, Where is thy God? if she now 
 seeks of Thee one thing, and desires it, that she may 
 dwell in Thy house all the days of her life (and 
 what is her life, but Thou ? and what Thy days, but 
 Thy eternity, for Thy years fail not, because Thou 
 art ever the same f), by this, then, may the soul 
 that is able, understand how far Thou art, above all 
 time, eternal ; seeing, Thy house, which at no time 
 went into a far country, although it be not coeternal 
 with Thee, yet by continually and unfailingly cleaving 
 unto Thee, suffers no changeableness of times. This 
 is in Thy sight clear unto me, and let it be more and 
 more cleared unto me, I beseech Thee, and in the 
 manifestation thereof, let me with sobriety abide un- 
 der Thy wings. 
 
 14. There is, behold, I know not what formlessness 
 in the changes of the last and lowest creatures. And 
 who would tell me (unless one who, through the 
 emptiness of his own heart, wanders and tosses him- 
 self up and down amid his own fancies), who but 
 such a one would tell me, that if all figure be so 
 wasted and consumed away, that there should only 
 remain formlessness, through which the thing was 
 changed and turned from one figure to another, it 
 
 l Compare XV. 18 infra.
 
 344 The cosmos is formed out of the chaos. 
 
 could exhibit the vicissitudes of times ? Plainly it 
 could not, because, without variety of motions, there 
 are no times; and no variety, where there is no 
 figure. 
 
 XII. 15". These things considered, as Thou givest, 
 O my God, as Thou stirrest me up to knock, and as 
 Thou openest to me, knocking, I find that Thou hast 
 made two things, not within the compass of time, 
 neither of which is coeternal with Thee. One is so 
 formed, that, without any ceasing of contemplation, 
 without any interval of change, changeable, yet not 
 changed, it may thoroughly enjoy Thy eternity and 
 unchangeableness ; the other, so formless, that it had 
 not that which could be changed from one form into 
 another, whether of motion, or of repose, so as to be- 
 come subject unto time. But this Thou didst not 
 leave thus formless, because, before all days, Thou in 
 the Beginning didst create Heaven and Earth; the 
 two things that I spake of. Bat the Earth was in- 
 visible and without form, and darkness icas upon the 
 deep. In which words is the formlessness conveyed 
 unto us, who are not able to conceive an utter priva- 
 tion of all form, without yet coming to nothing ; and, 
 out of this formlessness, another Heaven was created, 
 together with a visible and well-formed earth, and 
 the waters diversely ordered, and all that which in 
 the formation of the world is recorded to have been 
 created in days ; it being of such nature, that the suc- 
 cessive changes of times may take place in it, as be- 
 ing subject to appointed alterations of motions and 
 of forms.
 
 Distinction between ''"heaven" and "earth" 345 
 
 v 
 
 XIII. 16. This, then, is what I conceive, O my 
 God, when I hear Thy Scripture saying, In the begin- 
 ning God made Heaven and Earth, and the earth 
 was invisible and without form, and darkness was 
 upon the deep; and not mentioning what day Thou 
 createdst them. It is, therefore, because of the Heaven 
 of heavens, that intellectual Heaven, whose intelligent 
 inhabitants know all at once, not in part, not darkly, 
 not through a glass, but as a whole, in manifestation, 
 face to face, not this thing now, and that thing anou r 
 but all at once, without any succession of times; and 
 because of the earth invisible and without form, 
 without any succession of times, which succession 
 presents " this thing now, that thing anon " (because 
 where is no form, there is no distinction of things), 
 it is, then, on account of these two, a primitive 
 formed, and a primitive formless, the one, heaven, but 
 the Heaven of heaven, the other earth, but the earth 
 invisible and without form, it is because there 
 were these two, that Thy Scripture said, without men- 
 tion of days, In the Beginning God created Heaven 
 and Earth. For forthwith it subjoined what earth it 
 speaks of; and, moreover, as the Firmament is re- 
 corded to be created the second day, and called 
 Heaven, it shows to us of which Heaven it before 
 spake without mention of days. 
 
 XIV. 17 Wondrous depth of Thy words ! whose 
 surface, behold ! is before us, inviting to the docile 
 and childlike ; yet are they a wondrous depth, O my 
 God, a wondrous depth ! It is awful to look therein ; 
 an awfulness of honor, and a trembling of love. The
 
 346 Augustine argues with those 
 
 enemies thereof I hate vehemently. O that Thou 
 wouldest slay them with Thy two-edged sword, that 
 they might no longer be enemies unto it ! for so do I 
 love to have them slain unto themselves, that they 
 may live unto Thee. But behold others, not fault- 
 finders, but extollers of the book of Genesis, say: 
 "The Spirit of God, Who by His servant Moses 
 wrote these things, would not have those words thus 
 understood ; He would not have them understood as 
 iThou sayest, but otherwise, as we say." Unto whom, 
 Thyself, O Thou God of us all, being Judge, do I 
 thus answer. 
 
 XV. 18. "Will you affirm that to be false, which 
 with a strong voice Truth tells me in my inner ear, 
 concerning the eternity of the Creator, that His sub- 
 stance is noways changed by time, nor His will sep- 
 arate from His substance ? Wherefore, He willeth not 
 one thing now, another anon ; but once, and at once, 
 and always, He willeth all things that He willeth ; 
 not again and again, nor now this, now that ; nor will- 
 eth afterwards, what before He willed not, nor willeth 
 not, what before He willed ; because such a will is 
 mutable ; and no mutable thing is eternal : but our 
 God is eternal. Again, the expectation of things to 
 come becomes sight, when they are come, and this 
 same sight becomes memory, when they be past. 
 Now, all thought which thus varies is mutable ; and 
 nothing mutable is eternal : but our God is eternal." 
 These things I infer, and put together, and find that 
 my God, the eternal God, hath not upon any new will 
 made any creature, nor doth His knowledge admit
 
 who dispute his interpretation. 347 
 
 of anything transitory. " What will ye say then, O 
 ye gainsayers ? Are these things false ? " " No," 
 they say. " "What then ? Is it false, that every na- 
 ture already formed, or matter capable of form, is 
 only from Him Who is supremely good, because he 
 exists supremely ? " " Neither do we deny this," say 
 they. " What then ? do you deny that there is a 
 certain sublime creature, with so chaste a love cleaving 
 unto the true and truly eternal God, that, although 
 not coeternal with Him, yet it is not detached from " 
 Him, nor dissolved into the variety and vicissitude of 
 times, but reposeth in the most true contemplation of 
 Him only ? " Because Thou, O God, unto him that 
 loveth Thee as Thou commandest, dost show Thyself, 
 and sufficest him ; therefore doth this sublime crea- 
 ture not decline from Thee, nor toward itself. 
 This is the house of God, 1 not of earthly mould, nor 
 of any celestial bulk corporeal, but spiritual, and par- 
 taker of Thy eternity, because without defection for- 
 ever. For Thou hast made it fast for ever and ever^ 
 Thou hast given it a law which it shall not pass? 
 Nor yet is it coeternal with Thee, O God, because 
 not without beginning: for it was made. 
 
 20. Wisdom was created before all things; 3 not 
 that Wisdom which is altogether equal aiid coeternal 
 unto Thee, our God, His Father, and by Whom all 
 things were created, and in Whom, as the Beginning^ 
 Thou createdst heaven and earth; but that wisdom 
 which is created, that is, the intellectual nature, 
 which, by contemplating the light, is light. For this, 
 
 1 Compare XI. 12, supra. 2 Fs. cxlviii. 6. 3 Sirach i. 4.
 
 348 Wisdom increate, and created. 
 
 though created, is also called wisdom. But such dif- 
 ference as is betwixt the Light which enlighteneth, 
 and which is enlightened, so much is there betwixt 
 the Wisdom that createth, and that created ; betwixt 
 the Righteousness which justifieth, and the righteous- 
 ness Avhich is made by justification. For we also arc 
 called Thy righteousness : as saith a certain servant 
 of Thine, That we might be made the righteousness 
 of God in Him. Therefore, since a certain created 
 wisdom was created before all things, viz., the rational 
 and intellectual mind of that chaste city of Thine, 
 our mother which is above, and is free and eternal in 
 the heavens (in what heavens, if not in those that 
 praise Thee, the Heaven of heavens f because this is 
 also the Heaven of heavens for the Lord) ; though 
 we find no time before it (because that which hath 
 been created before all things, preccdeth also the 
 creature of time), yet is the eternity of the Creator 
 Himself before it, from Whom, being created, it took 
 the beginning, not indeed of 'time, for time itself was 
 not yet, but of its creation. 1 
 
 21. Hence created wisdom is altogether other than 
 
 1 By this "created wisdom," this "sublime creature," this "chaste 
 city of God," Augustine seems to mean the intelligible world, as distin- 
 guished from the sensible. Jt is Unite Spirit as a universal, in distinction 
 from finite Nature or Matter. The influence of his Platonic studies is 
 very apparent, in these speculations; and though it may be diflicult to 
 explain some of his phraseology, in such a manner as to keep quite clear 
 of the doctrine of on eternal creation de nihilo, such as Origeu held, yet 
 Augustine is positive and plain in asserting, that this finite universal 
 Intelligence is a creature, and not of the same substance with God. He 
 carefully distinguishes it from the second person in the Trinity, the eter- 
 nal and absolute Wisdom, the Word which was with God and was God 
 the Son. ED.
 
 Augustine argues with opposers. 349 
 
 Thou, and not the Self-same; because, though we 
 find time neither before it, nor even in it (it being 
 meet ever to behold Thy face, nor ever drawn away 
 from it, wherefore it is not varied by any change), yet 
 is there in it a liability to change, whence it would 
 wax dark and chill, were it not that, by a strong af- 
 fection cleaving unto Thee, like perpetual noon, it 
 shineth and gloweth from Thee. house most light- 
 some and delightsome ! I have loved thy beauty, and 
 the place of the habitation of the glory of my Lord, 
 thy builder and possessor. Let my wayfaring sigh 
 after Thee ; and I say to Him that made thee, let 
 Him take possession of me also in thee, seeing He 
 hath made me likewise. I have gone astray like a 
 lost sheep; yet upon the shoulders of my Shepherd, 
 thy builder, I hope to be brought back to thee. 
 
 22. " What say ye to me, O ye gainsayers that I 
 was speaking unto, who yet believe Moses to have 
 been the holy servant of God, and his books the or- 
 acles of the Holy Ghost ? Is not this house of God, 
 not coeternal indeed with God, yet after its measure, 
 eternal in the heavens, where you seek for changes 
 of times in vain, because you will not find them ? 
 For that thing, which feels that it is ever good to 
 cleave fast to God, surpasses all extension, and all re- 
 volving periods of time." <; It is," say they. " What, 
 then, of all that which my heart loudly uttered unto 
 my God, when inwardly it heard the voice of His 
 praise, what part thereof do you affirm to be false ? 
 Is it that the matter was without form, in which, be- 
 cause there was no form, there was no order? But 
 25
 
 350 Aspirations after tJie Supreme Good. 
 
 where no order was, there could be no vicissitude of 
 times : and yet this * almost nothing,' inasmuch as it 
 was not altogether nothing, was from Him certainly, 
 from Whom is whatsoever is, in what degree soever 
 it is." "This also," say they, " do we not deny." 
 
 XVI. 23. With these would I now parley a little 
 in Thy presence, O my God, who grant all these 
 things to be true, which Thy Truth whispers unto 
 my soul. For those who deny these things, let them 
 bark, and deafen themselves as much as they please ; 
 I will essay to persuade them to quiet, and to open 
 in them a way for Thy word. But if they refuse, 
 and repel me, I beseech Thee, O my God, be not 
 Thou silent to me. Speak Thou truly in my heart, 
 for only Thou so speakest, and I will let them alone, 
 blowing upon the dust without, and raising it up 
 into their own eyes; and myself will enter my 
 chamber, and sing there a song of loves unto Thee ; 
 groaning with groanings unutterable, in my way- 
 faring, and remembering Jerusalem, with heart lifted 
 up towards it, Jerusalem my country, Jerusalem my 
 mother, and Thyself that rulest over it, the Enlight- 
 ener, Father, Guardian, Husband, the pure and strong 
 delight, and solid joy, and all good things unspeak- 
 able, yea, all at once, because the One Sovereign and 
 true Good. Nor will I be turned away, until Thou 
 gather all that I am, from this dispersed and this dis- 
 ordered estate, into the peace of that our most dear 
 mother, where are the first-fruits of my spirit al- 
 ready (whence I am ascertained of these things), 
 and Thou conform and confirm it forever, O my God,
 
 Five explanations of Gen. i. 1. 351 
 
 my Mercy. But those who do not deny all these 
 truths, who honor Thy holy Scripture, set forth by 
 holy Moses, placing it on the summit of authority to 
 be followed, and do yet contradict me in some 
 things, I answer thus : Be Thyself Judge, O our 
 God, between my Confessions and these men's con- 
 tradictions. 
 
 XVII. 24. For they say, " Though these things be 
 true, yet did not Moses intend those two, when, by 
 revelation of the Spirit, he saith, In the beginning 
 God created heaven and earth. He did not, under 
 the name of heaven, signify that spiritual or intellec- 
 tual creature which always beholds the face of God ; 
 nor under the name of earth, that formless matter." 
 "What then?" "That man of God," say they, 
 " meant as we say ; this declared he by those words." 
 " What ?" " By the name of heaven and earth would 
 he first signify," say they, " universally and compen- 
 diously, all this visible world ; and afterwards, by the 
 enumeration of the several days, arrange in detail, 
 and, as it were, piece by piece, all those things, which 
 it pleased the Holy Ghost thus to enounce. For 
 such were that rude and carnal people to which he 
 spake, that he thought them fit to be entrusted with 
 the knowledge of such works of God only as were 
 visible." They agree, however, that under the words, 
 earth invisible and without form, and that darksome 
 deep, out of which it is subsequently shown that all 
 these visible things, which we all know, were made 
 and arranged during those " days," may, not incon- 
 gruously, be understood, this formless (first) matter.
 
 352 Five explanations of Gen. i. 1. 
 
 25. What, now, if another should say, " that this 
 same formlessness and confusedness of matter was 
 first conveyed under the name of heaven and earth, 
 because out of it was this visible world with all those 
 natures which most manifestly appear in it, which is 
 oftentimes called by the name of heaven and earth, 
 created and perfected?" What, again, if another 
 should say, " that that invisible and visible nature is 
 not indeed inappropriately called heaven and earth ; 
 and so, the universal creation which God made in 
 His Wisdom, that is, in the Beginning, was compre- 
 hended under those two words ? yet, since all things 
 be made not of the substance of God, but out of 
 nothing (because they are not the same that God is, 
 and there is a mutable nature in them all, whether 
 they abide, as doth the eternal house of God, or be 
 changed, as the soul and body of man are) : there- 
 fore the common matter of all things visible and in- 
 visible (as yet unformed, though capable of form), 
 out of which was to be created both heaven and 
 earth (L e., the invisible and visible creature when 
 formed), was designated by the same names that are 
 given to the earth invisible and without form and 
 the darkness upon the deep, but with this distinction, 
 that by the earth invisible and without form is un- 
 derstood corporeal matter, antecedent to its being 
 qualified by any form ; and by the darkness upon the 
 deep, spiritual matter, before it underwent any re- 
 straint of its unlimited fluidness, or recdived any 
 light from Wisdom?" 
 
 26. It yet remains for a man to say, if he will,
 
 Divers interpretations harmless if reverent. 353 
 
 " that the already perfected and formed natures, visi- 
 ble and invisible, are not signified under the name of 
 heaven and earth, when we read, In the beginning 
 God made heaven and earth, but that the yet un- 
 formed commencement of things, the stuff apt to re- 
 ceive form and making, was called by these names, 
 because therein were confusedly contained, not as yet 
 distinguished by their qualities and forms, all those 
 which being now digested into order, are called 
 Heaven and Earth, the one being the spiritual, the 
 other the corporeal, creation. 
 
 XVIII. 27. All which things being heard and well 
 considered, I will not strive about words : for that is 
 profitable to nothing, but the subversion of the hear- 
 ers. But the law is good to edify, if a man use it 
 lawfully: because the end of it is charity, out of a 
 pure heart and good conscience and faith unfeigned. 
 And well did our Master know upon which two com- 
 mandments He hung all the law and the Prophets. 
 And what doth it prejudice me, O my God, Thou 
 light of my eyes in secret, zealously confessing these 
 things, since divers things may be understood under 
 these words which yet are all true, what, I say, 
 doth it prejudice me, if I think otherwise than 
 another thinketh the writer thought ? All we read- 
 ers verily strive to trace out and to understand his 
 meaning ; and seeing we believe him to speak truly, 
 we dare not imagine him to have said anything 
 which we" either know or think to be false. While 
 every man endeavors then to understand in the Holy 
 Scriptures, the same as the writer understood, what
 
 354 Points wherein all expositors agree. 
 
 hurt is it, if a man understand what Thou, the light 
 of all true speaking minds, dost show him to be true, 
 although he whom he reads, understood not this, 
 seeing he also understood a Truth, though not this 
 truth? 
 
 XIX. 28. For true it is, O Lord, that Thou madest 
 heaven and earth ; and it is true, too, that the Be- 
 ginning is Thy Wisdom, in "Which Thou createdst 
 all / and true, again, that this visible world hath for 
 its greater parts the heaven and the earth, which 
 briefly comprise all made and created natures. And 
 true, too, that whatsoever is mutable, gives us to un- 
 derstand a certain want of form, whereby it receiveth 
 a form, or is changed, or turned. It is true, that that 
 is subject to no times, which so cleaveth to the un- 
 changeable Form, as, although capable of change, 
 yet never to be changed. It is true, that that form- 
 lessness which is almost nothing, cannot be subject 
 to the alteration of times. It is true, that that 
 whereof a thing is made, may by a certain mode of 
 speech, be called by the name of the thing made of 
 it; whence that formlessness, whereof heaven and 
 earth were made, might be called heaven and earth. 
 It is 'true, that of things having form, there is not 
 any nearer to having no form, than the "earth" arid 
 the "deep" It is true, that not only every created 
 and formed thing, but whatsoever is capable of being 
 created and formed, Thou madest, of whom are all 
 things. It is true, that whatsoever is formed out of 
 that which had no form, was unformed before it was 
 formed.
 
 
 Various interpretations of Gen. i. 1. 355 
 
 XX. 29. Out o 4 all these truths, of which they 
 doubt not whose inward eye Thou hast enabled to 
 see such things, and who unshakenly believe Thy 
 servant Moses to have spoken in the spirit of Truth, 
 one truth is taken by him, who saith, In the Begin- 
 ning God made the heaven and the earth : that is " In 
 His word, coeternal with himself, God made the in- 
 telligible and the sensible, or the spiritual and the 
 corporeal creature;" another truth by him that saith, 
 In the Beginning God made heaven and earth : that 
 is, " In His Word coeternal with Himself, did God 
 make the universal bulk of this corporeal world, to- 
 gether with all those apparent and known creatures, 
 which it containeth;" another truth by him that 
 saith, In the Beginning God made heaven and earth: 
 that is, " In His Word coeternal with Himself, did 
 God make the formless matter of creatures spiritual 
 and corporeal ; " another truth by him that saith, In 
 the Beginning God created Heaven and Earth: that 
 is, "In His Word coeternal with Himself, did God 
 create the formless matter of the creature corporeal, 
 wherein heaven and earth lay as yet confused, 
 which being now distinguished and formed, we at 
 this day see in the bulk of this world;" another truth 
 by "him who saith, In the Beginning God made 
 Heaven and Earth : that is, " In the very beginning 
 of creating and working, did God make that formless 
 matter, confusedly containing in itself both heaven 
 and earth, out of which, being formed, do they now 
 stand out, and are apparent, with all that is in them." 
 
 XXI. And with regard to the understanding of
 
 356 Various interpretations of Gen. i. 1. 
 
 the words following, He who saith, But the earth was 
 invisible, and without form, and* darkness was upon 
 the dee}): that is, "that corporeal thing that God made, 
 was as yet a formless matter of corporeal things, 
 "without order, without light," chooses one of those 
 truths. Another truth he chooses, who says, The 
 earth was invisible, and without form, and darkness 
 was upon the deep : that is, " this all, which is called 
 heaven and earth, was still a formless and darksome 
 matter, of which the corporeal heaven and the corpo- 
 real earth were to be made, with all things in them, 
 which are known to ou corporeal senses." Another 
 truth he chooses, who says, The earth was invisible 
 and without form, and darkness was upon the deep : 
 that is, "this all, which is called heaven and earth, was 
 still a formless and darksome matter, out of which was 
 to be made, both that intelligible heaven, otherwhere 
 called the Heaven of heavens, and the earth, that is, 
 the whole corporeal nature, under which name is 
 comprised this corporeal heaven also ; in a word, out 
 of which every visible and invisible creature was to 
 be created." Another truth he chooses, who says, 
 T7te earth was invisible and without form, and dark- 
 ness was upon the deep: that is, "the Scriptui-e did 
 not call that formlessness itself by the name of 
 heaven and earth, but that formlessness already was, 
 which it called the earth invisible, without form, and 
 darkness upon the deep, and of which it had before 
 said, that God had made heaven and earth, namely, 
 the spiritual and corporeal creature." Another truth 
 he chooses, who says The earth was invisible and
 
 Does Scripture teach the creation of chaos? 357 
 
 without form, and darkness was upon the deep : that 
 is, " there already was a certain formless matter, of 
 which the Scripture said before, that God matfe 
 heaven and earth; namely, the whole corporeal bulk 
 of the world, divided into two great parts, upper and 
 lower, with all the common and known creatures in 
 them." 
 
 XXII. 31. For, should any attempt to dispute 
 against these two last opinions in this manner: "If 
 you will not allow that this formlessness of matter 
 seems to be called by the name of heaven and earthy 
 then there was something which God had not made, 
 out of which to make heaven and earth ; for Scrip- 
 ture hath not told us that God made this formless 
 matter, unless we understand it to be included in the 
 name of heaven and earth, or of earth alone, when it 
 is said, In the Beginning God made the heaven and 
 earth, so that in what follows, and the earth was in- 
 visible and without form, we are to understand no 
 other matter but that which God made, whereof is 
 written above, God made heaven and earth" if this 
 be the manner of arguing, the maintainers of either 
 of those two latter opinions will, upon hearing this, 
 return for answer : " We do not deny this formless 
 matter to be indeed created very good, by God, that 
 God of Whom are all things ; for as we affirm that to 
 be a greater good, which is created and formed, so 
 we confess that to be a lesser good which is made 
 capable of creation and form, yet still good. We 
 say, however, that Scripture hath not set down, that 
 God made this formlessness, as also it hath not many
 
 358 Matter is not coeternal with God. 
 
 other things ; as the Cherubim, and /Seraphim, and 
 those which the Apostle distinctly speaks of, Thrones, 
 Dominions, Principalities, Powers. 1 All which, that 
 God made, is most apparent. Or if in that which is 
 said, He made heaven and earth, all things be com- 
 prehended, what shall we say of the waters upon 
 which the Spirit of God moved f For if they be 
 comprised in this word earth, how then can formless 
 matter be meant in that name of earth, when we see 
 the waters so beautiful ? Or if it be so taken, why 
 then is it written, that out of the same formlessness 
 the firmament was made, and called heaven, and that 
 the waters were made, is not written ? For the 
 waters remain not formless and invisible, seeing we 
 behold them flowing in such a comely manner. But 
 if they then received that beauty, when God said, 
 Let the water which is under the firmament be gath- 
 ered together, so that the gathering together be itself 
 the forming of them, what will be answered as to 
 those waters which be above the firmament ? Seeing 
 that if formless, they would not have been worthy of 
 so honorable a seat, nor is it written, by what word 
 they were formed. If, then, Genesis is silent as to 
 God's making a certain thing which yet neither sound 
 faith nor well-grounded understanding doubteth that 
 He made, and no sober teaching will dare to affirm 
 these waters to be coeternal with God, on the ground 
 that we find them to be mentioned in the book of 
 Genesis, but do not find when they were created; 
 why should we not understand that formless matter 
 
 1 Col. i. 16.
 
 Truth of fact, and of grammatical meaning. 359 
 
 (\vliich this Scripture calls the earth invisible and 
 without form, and darksome deep) to have been cre- 
 ated of God out of nothing, and therefore not to be 
 coeternal to Him, notwithstanding that this history 
 hath omitted to show token it was created ? 
 
 XXIII. 32. These things, then, being heard and 
 perceived, according to the weakness of my capacity 
 (which I confess unto Thee, O Lord, that knowest it), 
 two sorts of disagreements I see may arise, when a 
 thing is in words related by true reporters ; one con- 
 cerning the truth of the things, the other concerning 
 the meaning of the relater. For we inquire one thing, 
 when we ask about the making of the creature, what 
 is the fact ; another thing, when we ask what Moses, 
 that excellent minister of Thy Faith, would have his 
 reader and hearer understand by those words. As 
 for the first thing, away with all those who imagine 
 themselves to know as a fact, what is false ; and for 
 the second, away with all who imagine Moses to 
 have written things false. But let me be united in 
 Thee, O Lord, with those, and delight myself in Thee, 
 with them, that feed on Thy Truth, in the largeness 
 of charity, and let us approach together unto the 
 words of Thy book, and seek in them. for Thy mean- 
 ing, through the meaning of Thy servant, by whose 
 pen Thou hast dispensed them. 
 
 XXIV. 33. But which of us shall, among those so 
 many truths, which occur to inquirers in those words, 
 as they are differently understood, so discover that 
 one meaning, as to affirm, " This, Moses thought," 
 and, "This, would he have understood in that his-
 
 360 The interpreter of scripture 
 
 tory," with the same confidence as he would affirm, re- 
 specting a self-evident truth, " This is true," whether 
 Moses thought this or that ? For beKold, O ray God, 
 I, Thy servant, who have in this book vowed a sacri- 
 fice of confession unto Thee, and pray that by Thy 
 mercy I may pay my vows unto T7iee, can I, with the 
 same confidence wherewith I affirm that in Thy in- 
 commutable Word Thou createdst all things visible 
 and invisible, affirm also that Moses meant no other 
 than this, when he wrote, In the beginning God 
 made Heaven and Earth ? No. Because I see not 
 in his mind that he thought of this latter when he 
 wrote these things, as I do see the former, in Thy 
 truth, to be certain. For he might have had his 
 thoughts upon God's commencement of creating, 
 when he said, In the Beginning; and by heaven and 
 earth, in this place, he might intend no formed and 
 perfected nature, whether spiritual or corporeal, but 
 both of them inchoate a*nd as yet formless. For I 
 perceive that whichsoever of the two had been said, 
 it might have been truly said ; but which of the two 
 he thought of in these words, I do not so perceive. 
 Although, whether it were either of these, or any 
 sense beside (that I have not here mentioned), which 
 this so great man saw in his mind, when he uttered 
 these words, I doubt not but that he saw it truly, 
 and expressed it aptly. 
 
 XXV. 34. Let no man harass me, then, by saying, 
 Moses thought not as you say, but as I say. For if 
 he should ask me, " How know you that Moses 
 thought that which you infer out of his words ? " I
 
 should not be dogmatic. 361 
 
 ought to take it in good part, and would answer, per- 
 chance, as I have above, or something more at large, 
 if he were unyielding. But when he saith, "Moses 
 meant not what you say, but what I say," and yet de- 
 nieth not that what both of us say may be true, 
 
 my God, life of the pooi-, in Whose bosom is no 
 contradiction, pour down a softening dew into my 
 heart, that I may patiently bear with such as say this 
 to me ; who say it, not because they have a divine 
 Spirit, and have seen in the heart of Thy servant what 
 they speak, but because they be proud ; not knowing 
 Moses' opinion, but loving their own, not because it is 
 truth, but because it is theirs. Otherwise they would 
 equally love another true opinion, as I love what they 
 say, when they say true ; not because it is theirs, but 
 because it is true, and on that very ground not 
 theirs, because it is true. But if they therefore love 
 it because it is true, then it is both theirs and mine, 
 as being in common to all lovers of truth. But 
 Avhereas they contend that Moses did not mean what 
 
 1 say, but what they say, this I like not, love not ; 
 for, though it were so, yet their rashness belongs not 
 to knowledge, but to over-boldness, and not insight 
 but vanity was its parent. O Lord, Thy judgments 
 are terrible ; seeing Thy truth is neither mine, nor 
 his, nor another's ; but belonging to us all, whom 
 Thou callest publicly to partake of it, warning us ter- 
 ribly, not to account it private to ourselves, lest we be 
 deprived of it. For whosoever challenges that as 
 proper in himself, which Thou propoundest to all to 
 enjoy, and would have that his own which belongs to
 
 362 Differing interpretations to be proposed 
 
 all, is driven from what is in common, to his own ; 
 that is, from truth to a lie. For he that speaketh a 
 lie, speaketh it of his own. 
 
 35. Hearken, O God, Thou best Judge, Truth itself; 
 hearken to what I shall say to this gainsayer ; hear- 
 ken, for before Thee do I speak, and before my breth- 
 ren, who employ Thy law lawfully, to the end of 
 charity ; hearken, and behold, if it please Thee, what 
 I shall say to him. This brotherly and peaceful word 
 do I return unto him : " If we both see that to be 
 true which thou sayest, and both see that to be true 
 which I say, where, I pray thee, do we see it ? Nei- 
 ther I in thee, nor thou in me ; but both in the un- 
 changeable Truth itself, which is above our souls. 
 Seeing, then, we strive not about the very light of the 
 Lord our God, why strive we about the thoughts of 
 our neighbor, which we cannot so see, as the unchange- 
 able Truth is seen ? because, if Moses himself had ap- 
 peared to us and said, ' This I meant,' even then we 
 should not see it, but should believe it. Let us not 
 then be puffed up, for one against another, above that 
 which is written; let us love the Lord our God with 
 att our heart, with all our soul, and with all our 
 mind; and our neighbor as ourself. With a view to 
 which two precepts of charity, unless we believe that 
 Moses meant whatsoever in those books he did mean, 
 we shall make God a liar, imagining otherwise of our 
 
 ' O O 
 
 fellow-servant's mind than He hath taught us. Be- 
 hold, now, how foolish it is, in such abundance of 
 most true meaning as may be extracted out of those 
 words, rashly to affirm which of them Moses princi-
 
 in a spirit of charity. 363 
 
 pally meant ; and with pernicious contentions to of- 
 fend charity itself, for whose sake he whose words 
 we go about to expound spake every thing." 
 
 XXVI. 36. And yet, O my God, Thou lifter up of 
 my humility, and rest of my labor, Who hearest my 
 confessions, and forgivest my sins, seeing Thou com- 
 mandest me to love my neighbor as myself, I cannot 
 believe that Thou gavest a less gift unto Moses, Thy 
 faithful servant, than I would wish or desire Thee to 
 have given me, had I been born in the time he was, and 
 hadst Thou set me in that office, that by the service 
 of my heart and tongue, those books might be dis- 
 pensed, which for so long after were to profit all na- 
 tions, and, through the whole world, from such an 
 eminence of authority, were to surmount all sayings 
 of false and proud teachings. I should have desired, 
 verily, had I then been Moses (for we all come from 
 the same lump, and what is man, save as Thou art 
 mindful of him?}, and been enjoined by Thee to 
 write the book of Genesis, such a power of expres- 
 sion, and such a style, to be given me, that neither 
 they who cannot yet understand how God created, 
 might reject the sayings, as beyond their capacity, 
 and they who had attained thereto, might find what 
 true opinion soever they had by thought arrived at 
 not passed over in those few words of Thy servant ; 
 and should another man by the light of truth have 
 discovered another, neither should that fail of being 
 discoverable in those same words. 
 
 XXVII. 37. For as a fountain within a narrow 
 compass is more plentiful, and supplies a tide for more
 
 364 God's creative agency not gradual. 
 
 streams over larger spaces than any one of those 
 streams which, after a wide interval, is derived from 
 the same fountain, so the relation of that dispenser of 
 Thine, which was to benefit many who were to dis- 
 course thereon, does, out of a narrow scantling, over- 
 flow into streams of clearest truth, whence every 
 man may draw out for himself such truth as he can, 
 upon these subjects; one, one truth, another, another, 
 by larger circumlocutions of discourse. For some, 
 when they read, or hear these words, conceive that 
 God, like a man or some mass endued with unbounded 
 power, by some new and sudden resolution, did, exte- 
 rior to Himself, as it were at a certain distance, cre- 
 ate heaven and earth, two great bodies above and 
 below, wherein all things were to be contained. And 
 when they hear, God said, Let it be made, and it was 
 made, they conceive of words begun and ended, sound- 
 ing in time, and passing away, after whose depart- 
 ure, that came into being which was commanded so 
 to do, and whatever, of the like sort, men's acquaint- 
 ance with the material world would suggest. In 
 whom, being yet little ones and carnal, while their 
 weakness is by this humble kind of speech carried as 
 in a mother's bosom, their faith is wholesomely built 
 up, whereby they hold assured that God made all 
 those natural objects which in admirable variety 
 their eye beholdeth around. "Which words, if any 
 one despising as too simple, with a proud weakness 
 shall stretch himself beyond the guardian nest, he 
 will, alas ! fall miserably. Have pity, O Lord, lest 
 they who go by the way trample on the unfledged
 
 Various interpretations of Gen. i. 1. 365 
 
 bird ; send Thine angel to replace it into the nest, 
 that it may live till it can fly. 
 
 XXVIII. 38. But others, unto whom these words 
 are no longer a nest, but deep, shady fruit-bowers, see 
 the fruits concealed therein, and fly joyously around, 
 and with cheerful notes seek out, and pluck them. 
 Reading or hearing these words, they see that all 
 times past and to come are surpassed by Thy eternal 
 and stable abiding; and yet that there is no creature 
 formed in time, not of Thy making. And, because 
 Thy will is the same that Thou art, Thou madest all 
 things, not by ayy change of will, nor by a will which 
 before was not ; and these things were not at first in 
 Thine own likeness, which is the Form of all things, 
 but were made, out of nothing, a formless unlikeness, 
 which was to be formed by Thy likeness (recurring 
 to Thy unity, according to their appointed capacity, 
 so far as is given to each thing in his kind), and might 
 all be made very good, whether they abide around 
 Thee, or, being in gradation removed in time and 
 place, make or undergo the beautiful variations of the 
 Universe. These things they see, and rejoice, in the 
 little degree they here may, in the light of Thy truth. 
 39. Another bends his mind on that which is said, 
 In the Beginning God made heaven and earth, and be- 
 holds therein Wisdom, the Beginning, because It also 
 speaketh unto us. Another likewise bends his mind 
 on the same words, and by Beginning understands 
 the commencement of things created; so that the 
 words,-/ the Beginning He made, mean He at first 
 made. And among them that understand, In the Be- 
 
 26
 
 366 Various interpretations of Gen. i. 1. 
 
 ff inning, to mean, "In Thy Wisdom Thou createdst 
 Heaven and Earth," one believes the matter out of 
 which the heaven and earth were to be created, to be 
 there called heaven and earth; another, natures al- 
 ready formed and distinguished ; another, one formed 
 nature, and that a spiritual, under the name Heaven, 
 the other formless, of corporeal matter, under the name 
 Earth. They, again, who by the names heaven and 
 earth understand matter as yet formless, out of which 
 heaven and earth were to be formed, do not all un- 
 derstand it in one way; but some think matter is 
 that out of which both the intelligible and the sensi- 
 ble creature was to be perfected ; others think that 
 that only is matter, out of which this sensible corpo- 
 real mass was to be made, containing in its vast 
 bosom these visible and ordinary natures. Neither 
 do they, who believe creation already ordered and 
 arranged to be in this place called heaven and 
 earth, understand it in the same way ; but some un- 
 derstand by it, both the invisible and visible; others, 
 the visible only, in which we behold this lightsome 
 heaven, and darksome earth, with the things in them 
 contained. 
 
 XXIX. 40. But he that no otherwise understands 
 In the Beginning He made, than if it were said, At 
 first He made, can only properly understand heaven 
 and earth of the matter of heaven and earth, that is, 
 of the universal intelligible and corporeal creation. 
 For if he would understand thereby the universe as 
 already formed, it may be rightly demanded of him : 
 "If God made this first, what made He afterwards?"
 
 Relation of matter to form. 367 
 
 and after the universe, he will find nothing. "Where- 
 upon, must he against his will hear another question : 
 "Ho\v did God make this first, if nothing after?" 
 But when he says, God made matter first formless, 
 then formed, there is no absurdity, if he be but able 
 to discern what precedes by eternity, what by time, 
 what by choice, and what by origin, by eternity, 
 as God is before all things ; by time, as the flower 
 before the fruit ; by choice, as the fruit before the 
 flower; by origin, as the sound before the tune. 
 Of these four, the first and last mentioned are with 
 extreme difficulty understood ; the two middle, easily. 
 For a rare and too "lofty vision is it to behold 
 Thy Eternity, O Lord, unchangeably making things 
 changeable, and thereby before them. And who, 
 again, is of so sharpsighted understanding, as to be 
 able, without great pains, to discern how the sound 
 is before the tune ? Because a tune is a formed 
 sound ; and a thing not formed, may exist ;. whereas, 
 that which existeth not cannot be formed. Thus is 
 the matter before the thing made; not because it 
 maketh it, seeing itself is rather made ; nor is it be- 
 fore by interval of time ; for we do not first in time 
 utter formless sounds without singing, and subse- 
 quently adapt or fashion them into the form of a chant, 
 as wood or silver, whereof a chest or vessel is fash- 
 ioned. For such materials do by time also precede 
 the forms of the things made of them ; but in singing, 
 it is not so : for when it is sung, its sound is heard ; 
 for there is not first a formless sound, which is after- 
 wards formed into a chant. For each sound, as soon
 
 368 Relation of matter to form. 
 
 as made, passeth away, nor canst thou find aught to 
 recall and by art to compose. So then the chant is 
 concentrated in its sound, which sound is its matter. 
 And this indeed is formed, that it may be a tune; 
 and therefore, as I said, the matter of the sound is 
 before the form of the tune; not before, through any 
 power it hath to make it a tune ; for a sound is no 
 way the work-master of the tune, but it is some- 
 thing corporeal, subjected to the soul which singeth, 
 whereof to make a tune. Nor is it first in time, for 
 it is given forth together with the tune ; nor first in 
 choice, for a sound is not better than a tune, a tune 
 being not only a sound, but a -beautiful sound. But 
 it is first in origin or order of nature, because a tune 
 receives not form to become a sound, but a sound re- 
 ceives a form to become a tune. By this example, let 
 him that is able understand how the matter of things 
 was first made, and called heaven and earth, because 
 heaven and earth were made out of it. Yet was it 
 not made first in time, because the forms of things 
 give rise to time. It was without form; but now is 
 in time, an object of sense, together with its form. 
 And yet nothing can be related of that chaotic mat- 
 ter, without considering it prior in time, whereas in 
 value it is last (because things formed are superior 
 to things without form), and is preceded by the Eter- 
 nity of the Creator ; that so there might be some- 
 thing out of nothing, whereof something might be 
 formed. 
 
 XXX. 41. In this diversity of true opinions, let 
 Truth herself produce concord, and our God have
 
 
 Charity the end. of Biblical studies. 3C9 
 
 mercy upon us, that we may use the law lawfully, the 
 end of the commandment, pure charity. By this, if 
 a man demands of me : " Which of these was the 
 meaning of Thy servant Moses?" it were not the 
 language of my Confessions, should I not confess 
 unto Thee, " I know not ; " and yet I know that 
 those senses are true, those carnal ones excepted, of 
 which I have spoken what seemed necessary. And 
 the words of Thy Book, delivering high things low- 
 lily, and with few words a. copious meaning, affright 
 not thy hopeful little ones, nor those who see and ex- 
 press the truth, delivered in the words Let us love 
 one another, and equally love Thee our God, the foun- 
 tain of truth, if we are athirst for it and not for vani- 
 ties. Yea, let us so honor Thy servant Moses, the 
 dispenser of this Scripture, full of Thy Spirit, as to 
 believe that, when by Thy revelation he wrote these 
 things, he intended that sense which among them all 
 chiefly excels, both for light of truth, and fruitfulness 
 of profit. 
 
 XXXI. 42. So when one says, " Moses meant as 
 I do," and another, " Nay, but as I do," I suppose 
 that I speak more reverently : " Why not rather as 
 both, if both be true? " And if there be a third, or 
 a fourth, yea, if any other seeth any other truth in 
 those words, why may not he be believed to have 
 seen all these, through whom the One God hath tem- 
 pered the holy Scriptures to the senses of many, who 
 should see therein things true but divers ? For cer- 
 tainly (and fearlessly I speak it from my heart), 
 were I to indite anything to have supreme author-
 
 370 Moses meant all that can 
 
 ity, I should prefer so to write, that whatever truth 
 any could apprehend on those matters, might be in- 
 cluded in my words, rather than set down my own 
 meaning so clearly as to exclude the rest, which not 
 being false could not offend me. I will not, therefore, 
 O my God, be so rash as not to believe that Thou 
 vouchsafedst as much to that great man. He, with- 
 out doubt, when he wrote those words, perceived and 
 thought on what truth soever we have been able to 
 find, yea, and whatsoever we have not been able, nor 
 yet are, but which may be found in them. 
 
 XXX. 43. Lastly, O Lord, who art God and not 
 flesh and blood, if man did see less, could anything 
 be concealed from Tliy good Spirit (Who shall lead 
 me into the land of uprightness), which Thou Thy- 
 self, by those words, wert about to reveal to readers 
 in time to come, even though he through whom they 
 were spoken, perhaps, among many true meanings, 
 thought on only one? Which, if so it be, let that 
 which he thought on be of all the highest. But to us, 
 O Lord, do Thou either reveal that same, or any 
 other true thing which Thou pleasest; that so, 
 whether Thou discoverest the same truth to us, as to 
 that servant of Thine, or some other by occasion of 
 those words, yet Thou mayest feed us, not error de- 
 ceive us. Behold, O Lord my God, how much I have 
 written upon a few words, how much I beseech Thee ! 
 "NVhat strength of ours, yea, what ages would suffice 
 for all Thy books in this manner ? Permit me, then, 
 more briefly to confess unto Thee, and to choose some 
 one true, certain, and good sense which Thou shalt
 
 logically be found in his words. 371 
 
 inspire, although many should occur, where many may 
 occur ; this being the law of my confession, that if I 
 should say that which Thy servant Moses intended, 
 that is right and best. For this should I endeavor, 
 and if I should not attain it, yet I should say what 
 Thy Truth willed by words to tell me, which revealed 
 also unto him what It willed.
 
 THE THIRTEENTH BOOK. 
 
 CONTINUATION OF THE EXPOSITION Of GENESIS I. IT CONTAINS THB 
 MYSTERY OF THE TRINITY, AND A TYPE OP THE FORMATION. EX- 
 TENSION, AND SUPPORT OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 I. 1. I call upon Thee, O my God, my Mercy, 
 Who didst create me, and forgat not me who forgat 
 Thee. I call Thee into my soul, which, by the long- 
 ing Thyself inspirest into it, Thou prepares! for Thee. 
 Forsake me not now, as I call unto Thee, whom Thou 
 didst prevent before I called, and urged me with 
 much variety of repeated calls, that I would hear 
 Thee from afar, and be converted, and call upon 
 Thee, who didst call after me. For Thon, Lord, 
 didst blot out all my evil deservings, so as not to rec- 
 ompense into my hands wherewith I fell from Thee ; 
 and Thou hast prevented all my well deservings, so 
 as to recompense the work of Thy hands wherewith 
 Thou madest me. Because, before I was, Thou wert ; 
 nor was I anything, to which Thou mightest grant to 
 be. And yet behold, I am, out of Thy goodness pre- 
 venting all this which Thou hast made me, and 
 whereof Thou hast made me. For neither hadst 
 Thou need of me, nor am I any such good as to be 
 helpful unto Thee, my Lord and God : not in serving
 
 
 All creatures subsist by Divine goodness. 373 
 
 Thee, as though Thou wouldest tire in working, or lest 
 Thy power might be less, if lacking ray service, nor 
 cultivating as a land, Thy service, which must remain 
 uncultivated, unless I cultivate Thee ;* but serving and 
 worshipping Thee, that I might receive well-being 
 from Thee from whom it comes that I have a being 
 capable of well-being. 
 
 ]J. 2. For of the fulness of Thy goodness doth 
 Thy creature subsist, that so a good, which could no 
 ways profit Thee, nor was of Thy substance (lest so 
 it should be equal to Thee), might yet exist, since it 
 could be made by Thy power. For what did heaven 
 and earth^ which Thou madest in the Beginning, 
 deserve of Thee ? Let those spiritual and corporeal 
 natures, which Thou madest in Thy Wisdom, say 
 wherein they deserved of Thee to depend upon Thy 
 "Word, in their inchoate and formless state, whether 
 spiritual or corporeal, and liable to fall away into an 
 immoderate liberty and far-distant unlikeness to Thee 
 (the spiritual, though without form, superior to the 
 corporeal though formed, and the corporeal without 
 form, better than were it altogether nothing), unless 
 by the same Word they were brought back to- Thy 
 Unity, indued with form, and from Thee the One 
 Sovereign Good were made all very good. How did 
 they deserve of Thee, to be even without form, since 
 they had not been even this but from Thee ? 
 
 3. How did corporeal matter deserve of Thee to be 
 even invisible and without form f It had not been 
 
 l "Neque ut sic te colam, quasi terram, ut sis iucultus, si non te 
 colam."
 
 374 Interpretation of Gen. i. 3. 
 
 even this, but that Thou madest it ; and, therefore, not 
 being, it could not deserve of Thee to be made. Or 
 how could the inchoate spiritual creature deserve of 
 Thee even to ebb and flow darksomely like the 
 deep, unlike Thee, unless it had been by the same 
 Word turned to Him by Whom it was created, and 
 by Him so enlightened, become light; though not 
 equally, yet conformably to that Form which is equal 
 unto Thee ? For as in a body, to be, is not one with 
 being beautiful, else could a body not be deformed ; 
 so likewise to a created spirit to live, is not one with 
 living wisely, else should it be wise unchangeably. 
 But it is good for it always to hold fast to Thee,; 
 lest what light it hath obtained by turning to Thee, 
 it lose by turning from Thee, and relapse into a life 
 resembling the darksome deep. For I, myself, who as 
 to the soul am a spiritual creature, but turned away 
 from Thee, the Light, was in that life sometimes dark- 
 ness ; and still I labor amidst the relics of darkness, 
 until, in Thy Only One, I become TJiy righteousness, 
 like the mountains of God; even as I have been Thy 
 judgments, which are like the great deep} 
 
 III. 4. That which Thou saidst in the beginning of 
 the creation, Let there be light, and there was light, I 
 understand of the spiritual creature ; because there 
 was already a sort of life, which Thou mightest illu- 
 minate. But as it had no claim on Thee for a life 
 which could be enlightened, so neither now, that it 
 was alone, had it any claim to be enlightened. For 
 its formless estate could not be pleasing unto Thee, 
 
 1 Ps. xxxv. 7, Septuagint ver.
 
 The creator does not need the creature. 375 
 
 unless it became light ; and that not by existing sim- 
 ply, but by beholding the illuminating light, and cleav- 
 ing to it, so that its living and living happily it owes 
 to nothing but Thy grace ; being by a better change 
 turned unto That which cannot be changed into worse 
 or better ; which Thou alone art, because Thou alone 
 simply art : unto Thee it being not one thing to live, 
 another to live blessedly, seeing Thyself art Thine 
 own Blessedness. 
 
 IV. 5. What would be wanting unto Thy good, 
 which Thou Thyself art, even had these things never 
 been at all, or had they remained without form f 
 Thou madest them, not out of any want, but out of 
 the fulness of Thy goodness, restraining and con veil- 
 ing them to form, as though Thy joy were fulfilled 
 by them. For to Thee, being perfect, their imperfec- 
 tions were displeasing, and hence were they perfected 
 by Thee, and pleased Thee. Not that Thou wert im- 
 perfect, and by their perfecting wert to be perfected. 
 For Thy good Spirit, indeed, was borne over the tca- 
 ters, not borne up by them, as if He rested upon them. 
 For those on whom Thy good Spirit is said to rest, 
 He causes to rest in Himself. But Thy incorruptible 
 and unchangeable will, in itself all-sufficient for itself, 
 was borne upon that life which Thou hadst created ; 
 to which, living is not one with happy living, seeing 
 it liveth, ebbing and flowing in its own darkness ; 
 wherefore it remaineth to be converted unto Him by 
 Whom it was made, and to live more and more at 
 the fountain of life, and in His light to see liyht, 
 and to be perfected, and enlightened, and beautified.
 
 376 The doctrine of the Trinity 
 
 "V. 6. Lo, now the Trinity appears unto me in a 
 glass darkly, which is Thou, my God ; because Thou, 
 O Father, didst create heaven and earth in Him "Who 
 is tlie Beginning of our wisdom, Which is Thy "Wis- 
 dom, of Thyself, equal unto Thee and coeternal, that 
 is, Thy Son. Much now have we said of the heaven, 
 of heavens, and of the earth invisible and without 
 form, and of the darksome deep, in reference to the 
 wandering instability of its spiritual deformity; which, 
 converted unto Him from Whom it had its first de- 
 gree of life, and enlightened by Him, became & beau- 
 teous life, and the heaven set between water and water. 
 And under the name of God, I now held the Father, 
 Who made these things, and under the name of Be- 
 ginning, 1 the Son, in whom He made these things; 
 and believing, as I did, my God as the Trinity, I 
 searched further in His holy words, and lo, Thy 
 Spirit moved upon the ^caters. Behold the Trinity, 
 my God, Father and Son and Holy Ghost, Creator of 
 all creation. 
 
 VI. 7. But what was the cause, O true-speaking 
 Light (unto Thee I lift up my heart, let it not tench 
 me vanities, dispel its darkness, and tell me), I be- 
 seech Thee by our mother charity, tell me the reason, 
 I beseech Thee, why after the mention of heaven, and 
 of the earth invisible and without form, and darkness 
 upon the deep, Thy Scripture should then at length 
 
 1 " Under the name The Beginning, we understand the Son, who is a 
 Beginning not to the Father, but to the creature, created by Himself." 
 Augustine, De Genesi ad literam I. vi. Opera, Tom. III. p. 503. Ed. 
 Bas. 1569.
 
 taught in Genesis I. 377 
 
 mention Thy Spirit? Was it because it was meet 
 that the knowledge of Him should be conveyed, as 
 being " borne above ; " and this could not be said, 
 uiriess that were first mentioned, over which Thy 
 Spirit may be understood to have been borne? For 
 neither was He borne above the Father, nor the Son, 
 nor could He rightly be said to be borne above, if He 
 were borne over nothing. First, then, was that to be 
 spoken of, over which He might be borne ; and then 
 He, whom it was meet not otherwise to be spoken of 
 than as being borne. But wherefore was it not meet 
 that th^ knowledge of Him should be conveyed other- 
 wise, than as being borne above? 
 
 VII. 8. Hence let biro that is able, follow with his 
 understanding Thy Apostle, where he thus speaks, 
 Because Tliy love is shed abroad in our hearts by the 
 Holy Ghost which is given unto us; 1 and where, 
 concerning spiritual gifts, he teacheth, and showeth 
 unto us a more excellent way of charity ; 2 and where 
 he bows his knee unto Thee for us, that we may know 
 the supereminent knowledge of the love of Christ? 
 And therefore from the beginning, was He borne su- 
 pereminent above the waters. To whom shall I speak 
 this ? how speak of the weight of evil desires, down- 
 wards to the steep abyss, and how charity rises up 
 again by Thy Spirit which was borne above the waters? 
 To whom shall I speak it ? How shall I speak it ? 
 Are we submerged, and do we emerge ? Certainly, it 
 is not in space that we are submerged and emerge. 
 "What can be more like, and yet what less like ? They 
 
 l Rom. v. 6 21 Cor. xii. 31. 3 Eph. iii. 14, 19
 
 378 Tlie elect angels kept from apostasy. 
 
 
 
 are affections, they are loves ; the uncleanness of our 
 spirit flowing downwards with the love of cares, and 
 the holiness of Thy Spirit raising us upward by love 
 of unauxions repose, that we may lift our hearts unto 
 Thee, where Thy Spirit is borne above the waters, and 
 come to that superemiuent repose, when our soul shall 
 have passed through the waters which yield no support. 
 VII. 9. Angels fell away, man's soul fell away, and 
 thereby pointed out the abyss in that dark depth, 
 ready for the whole spiritual creation, hadst not Thou 
 said from the beginning, Let there be light, and there 
 had been light, and every obedient intelligence of 
 Thy heavenly city had cleaved to Thee, and rested in 
 Thy Spirit, Which is borne unchangeably over every 
 thing changeable. Otherwise, even the heaven of 
 heavens had been in itself a darksome deep; but now 
 if is light in the Lord. For even in that miserable 
 restlessness of the spirits who fell away, and discov- 
 ered their own darkness when bared of the clothing 
 of Thy light, dost thou sufficiently reveal how noble 
 Thou madest the reasonable creature ; to which noth- 
 ing will suffice to yield a happy rest, less than Thee, 
 and so not even herself. For Thou O our God, shalt 
 ligMen our darkness; from Thee cometh our gar- 
 ment of light, and our darkness shall be as the noon- 
 day. Give Thyself unto me, O my God, restore 
 Thyself unto me ; behold I love, and if it be too 
 little, I would love more strongly. I cannot measure 
 so as to know, how much love there yet lacketh to 
 me, ere my life may run into Thy embracements, nor 
 turn away until it be hidden in the hidden place of
 
 God, the soul's rest. 379 
 
 Thy presence. This only I kno\v, that woe is me, 
 except in Thee, not only without but within myself 
 also ; and all abundance which is not my God, is 
 emptiness to me. 
 
 IX. 10. But was not either the Father or the Son 
 borne above the icaters? If this means, in space, like 
 a body, then neither was the Holy Spirit ; but if it 
 means the unchangeable supereminence of Divinity 
 above all things changeable, then were both Father, 
 and Son, and Holy Ghost, borne upon the waters. 
 Why then is this said of Thy Spirit only? Why is 
 it said only of Him, as if He had been in space, who 
 is not in space; of whom only it is written, that He 
 is Thy Gift? In Thy Gift we rest; there we enjoy 
 Thee. Our rest is our space. Love lifts us up 
 thither, and Thy Good Spirit lifts up our lowliness 
 from the gates of death. In Thy good pleasure is 
 our peace. The body by its own weight strives 
 towards its own place. Weight tends not down- 
 ward only, but to its own proper place. Fire tends 
 upward, a stone downward. They are urged by 
 their own weight, they seek their own places. Oil 
 poured below water, is raised above the water; 
 water poured upon oil, sinks below the oil. They 
 are urged by their own weights to seek their own 
 places. When out of their order, they are restless ; 
 restored to order, they are at rest. My weight is my 
 love ; thereby am I borne whithersoever I am borne. 
 We are inflamed by Thy Gift, Thy Spirit, and are 
 carried upwards; we glow inwardly, and go for- 
 wards. We ascend Thy ascents that be in our heart,
 
 380 Existence, cognition, and icill ar'e 
 
 and sing a song of degrees. We glow inwardly with 
 Thy fire, with Thy good fire, and we go, because we 
 go upwards to the peace of Jerusalem ; for glad- 
 dened was I in those who said unto me, We will go 
 up to the house of the Lord. 1 There hath Thy good 
 pleasure placed us, that we may desire nothing else, 
 but to abide there forever. 
 
 X. 11. Blessed creatui-e, which, being itself other 
 than Thou, has known no other condition, than that, 
 so soon as it was made, it was, without any interval, 
 by Thy Gift, Which is borne above every thing 
 changeable, borne aloft by that calling whereby Thou 
 saidst, Let there be light, and there icas light! 
 Whereas, in us men, this took place at different times, 
 in that we were darkness, and are made light. But of 
 that unfallen creature, is only said what it would have 
 been, had it not been enlightened ; and it is so said, as 
 if it had been unsettled and darksome before ; that so 
 the cause whereby it was made otherwise, might ap- 
 pear, namely, that, being turned to the Light unfail- 
 ing, it became light. Whoso can, let him understand 
 this; and whoso cannot, let him ask of Thee. Why 
 should he trouble me, as if I could enlighten any 
 man that cometh into this world f 
 
 XL 12. Who of us comprehends the Almighty 
 Trinity ? And yet who of us speaks not of it, if in- 
 deed it be an it? Rare is the soul, which, while it 
 speaks of it, knows what it speaks of. Men contend 
 and strive, yet, without peace; no man sees that vis- 
 ion. I would that men would consider these three 
 
 l Tealm cxxii. 1.
 
 inscrutable symbols of the Trinity. 381 
 
 things, that are in themselves. These three are in* 
 deed far other than the Trinity; I do but tell, where 
 men may search themselves, and prove, and feel how 
 far they are from it. Xow the three things I spake 
 of, are, To Be, to Know, and to Will. For I Am, 
 and Know, and Will; I Am Knowing and Willing; 
 and I Know myself to Be, and to Will; and I Will 
 to Be, and to Know. In these three, then, let him 
 discern how inseparable a life there is, yea, one life, 
 one mind, and one essence; yea, lastly, how insepar- 
 able a distinction there is, and yet a distinction. 
 Surely a man hath it before him ; let him look into 
 himself, and see, and tell me. But when he discov- 
 ers and can say anything of these, let him not there- 
 fore think that he has found that which is above 
 these Unchangeable; which Is unchangeably, and 
 Knows unchangeably, and Wills unchangeably. 
 And whether, because of these three, there is in 
 God also a Trinity, or whether all three be in Each, 
 so that the three belong to Each ; or whether (both 
 ways at once) \vondrously, simply, and yet man- 
 ifoldly, the Essence itself is a bound unto itself 
 within itself, yet unbounded, whereby it Is, and is 
 Known unto itself, and sufficeth to itself, unchange- 
 ably the Self-same by the abundant greatness of its 
 Unity, who can readily conceive this? Who could, 
 any ways express it? Who would, any way, pro- 
 nounce thereon rashly ? 
 
 XII. 13. Proceed in thy confession; say, O my 
 faith, to the Lord thy God, Holy, Holy, Holy, 
 Lord my God, in Thy Name have we been baptized, 
 27
 
 382 Allegorical interpretations of 
 
 Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; in Thy Name do we 
 baptize, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; because 
 among us, also, in His Christ did God make heaven 
 and earth, namely, the spiritual and carnal people of 
 His Church. Yea, and our earth, before it received 
 the form of doctrine, was invisible and without 
 form ; and we were covered with the darkness of ig- 
 norance. For Thou chastenedst man for iniquity, 
 and Thy judgments icere like the great deep unto him. 
 But because Thy Spirit was borne above the waters, 
 Thy mercy forsook not our misery, and Thou saidst, 
 Let there be light. Repent ye, for the kingdom of 
 heaven is at hand. Repent ye, let there be light. And 
 because our sold was troubled within us, we remem- 
 bered Thee, Lord, from the land of Jordan, and 
 that mountain equal unto Thyself, but little for our 
 sakes; and our darkness displeased us, we turned 
 unto Thee, and there was light. And, behold, we- 
 were sometimes darkness, but now light in the Lord. 
 XIII. 14. But, as yet we are such by faith and 
 not by sight; for by hope we are saved, but hope that 
 is seen, is not hope. As yet doth deep call unto deep, 
 but now in the voice of Thy water-spouts. As yet 
 doth lie that saith, I could not speak unto you as 
 unto spiritual, but as unto carnal, even he as yet 
 doth not think himself to have apprehended, undfor- 
 getteth those things which are behind, and reacheth 
 forth to those which are before, and groaneth, being 
 burdened, and his soul thirsteth after the Living 
 God, as the hart after the water-brooks, and saith, 
 When shall I come f desiring to be clothed upon
 
 various portions of Scripture. 383 
 
 with his house which is from heaven, and calleth 
 upon this lower deep, saying, Be not conformed to 
 this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of 
 your mind, and, be not children in understanding, 
 but in malice be ye children, that in understanding 
 ye may be perfect, and, foolish Galatians, who 
 hath bewitched you? But now no longer does he 
 speak in his own voice, but in Thine, Who sentest 
 Thy Spirit from above, through Him who ascended 
 up on high, and set open the flood-gates of his gifts, 
 that the force of His streams might make glad the 
 city of God. Him doth this friend 'of the bride- 
 grobm sigh after, having now the Jirst-fruits of the 
 Spirit laid up with Him, yet still groaning within 
 himself, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemp- 
 tion of his body ; to Him he sighs, a member of the 
 Bride / for Him he is jealous, as being a friend of the 
 Bridegroom ; for Him he is jealous, not for himself; 
 because in the voice of Thy water-spouts, not in his 
 own voice, doth he call to that other depth, over 
 whom being jealous, he feareth, lest as the serpent 
 beguiled Eve through his subtilty, so their minds 
 should be corrupted from the purity that is in our 
 Bridegroom, Thy Only Son. O what a light cf 
 beauty will that be, when we shall see Him' as He is, 
 and those tears be passed away, which have been my 
 meat day and night, whilst they daily say unto me, 
 Where is noio thy God? 
 
 XIV. 15. And I, too, say: O my God, where art 
 Thou ? Behold where Thou art. In Thee I breathe 
 a little, when I pour out my soul by myself in the
 
 384 Allegorical interpretations of 
 
 voice of joy and praise, the voice of him that keeps 
 holy-day. And yet again, the soul is sad, because it 
 relapses, and becomes a deep, or rather perceives it- 
 self still to be a deep. Unto it speaks my faith, 
 which Thou hast kindled to enlighten my feet in the 
 night, Why art thou sad, my soul, and why dost 
 thou trouble me? Hope in the Lord. His icord is a 
 lantern unto thy feet. Hope and endure, until the 
 night, the mother of the wicked, until the icrath of 
 the Lord, be overpast, whereof we also were once 
 children, who were sometimes darkness, relics whereof 
 we bear about us in our body, dead because of sin, 
 until the day break, and the shadows fly away. 
 Hope thou in the Lord. In the morning I shall stand 
 in Thy presence, and contemplate Thee; I shall for 
 ever confess unto Thee. In the morning I shall 
 stand in Thy presence, and shall see the health of 
 my countenance, my God ; Who also shall quicken 
 our mortal bodies, by the Spirit that dwelleth in us, 
 because He hath in mercy been borne over our inner 
 darksome and floating deep ; from Whom we have 
 in this pilgrimage received an earnest, that we should 
 now be light, whilst we are saved by hope, and are 
 the children of light, and the children of the day, not 
 the children of the night, nor of the darkness, which 
 yet sometimes we were. Betwixt whom and us, in 
 this uncertainty of human knowledge, Thou only di- 
 videst ; Thou, who provest our hearts, and callest the 
 light day, and the darkness night. For who discern- 
 etli us, but Thou ? And what have we, that ice have 
 not received of Thee ? out of tJie same lump vessels
 
 various portions of Scripture. 385 
 
 unto honor, whereof others also are made unto dis- 
 honor. 
 
 XV. 16. Or who, except Thou, our God, made for 
 us that firmament of authority over us in Thy divine 
 Scripture ? For it is said, the heaven shall be folded 
 up like a scroll (liber) ; and now is it stretched over 
 us like a skin. For Thy Divine Scripture is of more 
 eminent authority, since those mortals by whom Thou 
 dispensest it unto us, underwent mortality. And 
 Thou knowest, Lord, Thou knowest, how Thou with 
 skins didst clothe men, when they by sin became mor- 
 tal. Hence Thou hast like a skin stretched out the 
 firmament of Thy book (liber), that is, Thy harmon- 
 izing words, which by the ministry of mortal men 
 Thou spreadest over us. For, by their very death, 
 was that solid firmament of authority, which was in 
 Thy discourses set forth by them, more eminently ex- 
 tended over all that be under it ; which, whilst they 
 lived here, was not so eminently extended. Thou 
 hadst not as yet spread abroad the heaven like a 
 skin ; Thou hadst not as yet enlarged in all directions 
 the glory of their deaths. 
 
 17. Let us look, O Lord, upon the heavens, the 
 work of TJnj fingers ; clear from our eyes that cloud 
 which Thou hast spread under them. There is Thy 
 testimony, which giveth wisdom unto the little ones. 
 Perfect, O my God, Thy praise out of the mouth of 
 babes and siicklings. For we know no other books, 
 which so destroy pride, which so destroy the enemy 
 and the defender, who resists Thy reconciliation by 
 defending his own sins. I know not, Lord, I know
 
 386 Allegorical explanation of the 
 
 not any other such pure words, which so persuade me 
 to confess, and make my neck pliant to Thy yoke, and 
 invite me to serve Thee 'for nought. Let me under- 
 stand them, good Father ; grant this to me, who am 
 placed under them, because for those placed under 
 them, hast Thou established them. 
 
 18. Other waters there be above this firmament, I 
 believe immortal and separated from earthly corrup- 
 tion. Let them praise Thy name, let them praise 
 Thee, the super-celestial people, Thine angels, who 
 have no need to gaze up at this firmament, or by 
 reading to know of Thy Word. For they altcays be- 
 hold Thy face, and- there read without any syllables 
 in time, what willeth Thy eternal Will. They read, 
 they choose, they love ; they are ever reading, and 
 that never passes away which they read. For by 
 choosing, and by loving, they read the very unchange- 
 ableness of Thy counsel. Their book is never closed, 
 nor their scroll folded up; seeing Thou Thyself art 
 this to them, and art eternally, because Thou hast or- 
 dained them above this firmament, which Thou hast 
 firmly settled over the infirmity of the lower people, 
 where they might gaze up and learn Thy mercy, an- 
 nouncing in time Thee who madest times. For Tliy 
 mercy, Lord, is in the heavens, and Tliy truth reached 
 unto the clouds. The clouds pass away, but the 
 heaven abideth. The preachers of Thy word pass out 
 of this life into another ; but Thy Scripture is spread 
 abroad over the people, even unto the end of the 
 world. Yet heaven and earth also shall pass away, 
 but Thy tcords shall not pass away. Because the
 
 firmament and the waters above it. 387 
 
 scroll shall be rolled together, and the grass over 
 which it was spread, shall with the goodliness of it 
 pass away; but Thy word remaineth forever, which 
 now appeareth unto us under the dark image of the 
 clouds, and through the glass of the heavens, not as it 
 is; because though we also are the well-beloved of 
 Thy Son, yet it hath not yet appeared what we shall 
 be. He looked through the lattice of our flesh, and 
 He spake us tenderly, and kindled us, and we ran af- 
 ter Jits odors. J3ut when He sJiaU appear, then shall 
 we be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is. As 
 He is, Lord, so will our sight be. 
 
 XVI. 19. For, altogether and, wholly what Thou 
 art, Thou only knowest, Who art unchangeably, and 
 knowest unchangeably, and wiliest unchangeably. 
 And Thy Essence Knows, and Wills unchangeably; 
 and Thy Knowledge Is, and Wills unchangeably; 
 and Thy Will Is, and Knows unchangeably. Nor 
 seems it fitting in Thine eyes, that as the Unchange- 
 able Light knows Itself, so should it be known by 
 the thing enlightened and changeable. Therefore is 
 my soid like a land where no water is, because, as it 
 cannot of itself enlighten itself, so can it not of it- 
 self satisfy itself. For the fountain of life is with 
 Thee, in such a way that in Thy light we shall see 
 light. 
 
 XVII. 20. Who gathered the embittered children 
 of men together into one society ? (For they have all 
 one end, a temporal and earthly felicity, for attaining 
 whereof they do all things, though they waver up 
 and down with an innumerable variety of cares.)
 
 388 Allegorical explanation of the 
 
 Who, Lord, but Thou, Who saidst, Let the waters be 
 gathered together into one place, and let the dry land 
 appear, which thirsteth after Thee f Because tfie sea 
 also is Thine, and Thou hast made it, and Thy hands 
 prepared the dry land. Nor is the bitterness of men's 
 wills, but the gathering together of the waters, called 
 sea. For Thou restrainest the wicked desires of men's 
 souls, and settest them their bounds, how far they may 
 be allowed to pass, that their waves may break one 
 against another ; and thus inakest Thou it a sea, by 
 the order of Thy dominion over all things. 
 
 21. But the souls that thirst after Thee, and that 
 appear before Thee (being by other bounds divided 
 from the society of the sea), Thou waterest by a 
 sweet spring, that the earth may bring forth her 
 fruit, and, Thou Lord God so commanding, our soul 
 may bud forth works of mercy according to their 
 kind, loving our neighbor in the relief of his bodily 
 necessities, having seed in itself according to its like- 
 ness; since, from feeling of our infirmity, we compas- 
 sionate so as to relieve the needy, helping them, as we 
 would be helped, if we were in like need ; and this, 
 too, not only in things easy, as in herb yielding seed, 
 but also in the protection of our assistance with our 
 best strength, like the tree yielding fruit : that is, 
 well-doing in rescuing him that suffers wrong, from 
 the hand of the powerful, and giving him the shelter 
 of protection, by the mighty strength of just judg- 
 ment. 
 
 XVIII. 22. So Lord, so, I beseech Thee, let there 
 spring up, as Thou workest, as Thou givest cheerful-
 
 lights ruling the day and night. 389 
 
 ness and ability^ let truth spring out of the earth^and 
 righteousness look down from heaven, and let there be 
 lights in the firmament. Let us break our bread to 
 the hungry, and bring the houseless poor to our house. 
 Let us clothe the naked, and despise not those of our 
 own fiesh. Which fruits having sprung out of the 
 earth, behold it is good. And let our temporary 
 light break forth; and ourselves, from this lower 
 fruitfulness of action, arriving at the delightfulness of 
 contemplation, obtaining the Word of Life above, ap- 
 pear like lights in the world, cleaving- to the firma- 
 ment of Thy Scripture. For there Thou instructest 
 as, to divide between the things intellectual, and 
 things of sense, as betwixt the day and the night / or 
 between souls, given either to things intellectual, or 
 to things of sense ; so that now, not Thou only, in the 
 secret of Thy judgment, as before the firmament was 
 made, dividest between the light and the darkness, but 
 Thy spiritual children -also, set and ranked in the 
 same firmament (now that Thy grace is manifested 
 throughout the world), may give light upon the earth, 
 and divide betwixt the day and the night, and be for 
 signs of times because old things are passed away, 
 a ml, behold, all things are become new, and because 
 our salvation is nearer than when we believed, and be- 
 cause the night is far spent, and the day is at hand, 
 and because Thou wilt crown Thy year with blessing, 
 sending laborers into Thy harvest, in sowing whereof 
 others have labored, sending also into another field, 
 whose harvest shall be in the end. 1 Thus grantest 
 
 l Matt. ix. 38; John iv. 37 <seq.
 
 390 Allegorical explanation of the 
 
 Thou the prayers of him that asketh,.and llessest the 
 years of the just ; but Thou art the same, and in Thy 
 years which fail not, Thou preparest a garner for our 
 passing years. For Thou, by an eternal counsel, dost 
 in their proper seasons bestow heavenly blessings 
 upon the earth. For to one is given by the Spirit 
 the word of wisdom, as it were the greater light, for 
 their sakes who are delighted with the light of per- 
 spicuous truth, as it were /or the rule of the day. To 
 another the word of knowledge by the same Spirit, as 
 it were the lesser light; to another faith ; to another 
 the gift of healing ; to another the working of mir- 
 acles; to another prophecy ; to another discerning 
 of spirits; to another divers kinds of tongues. And 
 all these are as it were stars. For all these worketh 
 the one and self-same Spirit, dividing to every man 
 his own as He witt; and causing stars to appear 
 manifestly, to profit withal. But the word of knowl- 
 edge, wherein are contained all Sacraments, which 
 are varied in their seasons, as it were the moon, and 
 those other denominations of gifts, which are reck- 
 oned up in order, as it were stars, inasmuch as they 
 come short of that brightness of wisdom which glad- 
 dens the forementioned day, are only for the rule of 
 the night. For they are necessary to such as those to 
 whom Thy most prudent servant coidd not speak 
 as unto spiritual, but as unto carnal; even he who 
 speaketh wisdom among those that are perfect. But 
 tJie natural man, as it were a babe in Christ and/ef? 
 on milk, until he be strengthened for solid meat, and 
 his eye be enabled to behold the Sun, let him not
 
 lights ruling the day and night. 391 
 
 dwell in a night forsaken of all light, but be content 
 with the light of the moon and the stars. So dost 
 Thou speak to us, our All-wise God, in Thy Book, 
 Thy firmament ; tha* we may discern all things, iu 
 an admirable contemplation ; though as yet in signs, 
 and in times, and in days, and in years. 
 
 XIX. 24. But first, wash you, be ye clean; put 
 away evil from your souls, aud/rom before mine eyes, 
 that the dry land may appear. Learn to do good, 
 judge the fatherless, plead for the widow, that the 
 earth may bring forth the green herb for meat, and 
 the tree bearing fruit; and come, let us reason to- 
 gether, saith the Lord, that there may be lights in 
 the firmament of the heaven, and tjiey may shine 
 itpon the earth. That rich man asked of the good 
 Master, what he should do to attain everlasting life. 
 Let the good Master tell him (whom he thought no 
 more than man ; but he is good because he is God), 
 let Him tell him, if he would enter into life, he must 
 keep the commandments / let him put away from him 
 the bitterness of malice and wickedness, not kill, not 
 commit adultery, not steal, not bear false witness, 
 that the dry land may appear, and bring forth the 
 honoring of father and mother, and the love of our 
 neighbor. All these (saith he) have I kept. Whence 
 then so many thorns, if the earth be fruitful ? Go, 
 root up the spreading thickets of covetousness ; sell 
 that thou hast, and be filled with fruit, by giving to 
 the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; 
 toad follow the Lord, if thou wilt be perfect, associated 
 with them among whom lie speaketh wisdom, Who
 
 392 Allegorical explanation of 
 
 knoweth what to distribute to the day and to the 
 night, that thou mayest also know it, and that for 
 thee there may be lights in the firmament of heaven; 
 which will not be, unless thy heart be there ; nor will 
 that either be there, unless there thy treasure be ; as 
 thou hast heard of the good Master. But that bar- 
 ren earth was grieved; 1 and the thorns choked the 
 word. 
 
 25. But you, chosen generation, you weak things 
 of the world, who have forsaken all, that ye may/b- 
 loic the Lord, go after Him, and confound the mighty; 
 go after Him, ye beautiful feet, and shine ye in the 
 firmament, that the heavens may declare His glory, 
 dividing between the light of the perfect, though not 
 as the angels, and the darkness of the little ones, 
 though not despised. Shine over the earth ; and let 
 the day, lightened by the sun, utter imto day, speech 
 of wisdom and night, shining with the moon, show 
 unto night, the word of knowledge. The moon and 
 stars shine for the night ; yet doth the night obscure 
 them, seeing they give it light in its degree. For be- 
 hold God saying as it were, Let there be lights in the 
 firmament of heaven; there came suddenly a sound 
 from heaven, as it had been the rushing of a mighty 
 wind, and there appeared cloven tongues like as of 
 fire, and it sat upon each of them, and there were 
 made lights in the firmament of heaven, having the 
 word of life. Run ye to and fro everywhere, ye 
 holy fires, ye beauteous fires: for ye are the light of 
 the world, nor are ye put under a bushel. He whom 
 
 l Matt. xix. 22.
 
 the reptiles and birds. 393 
 
 you cleave unto, is exalted, and hath exalted you. 
 Run ye to and fro, and be known unto all nations. 
 
 XX. 26. Let the sea also conceive and bring forth 
 your works ; and let the waters bring forth the mov- 
 ing creature that hath life. For ye, separating the 
 precious fro\n the vile, are made the mouth of God, by 
 whom He saith, Let the waters bring forth, not the 
 living creature which the earth brings forth, but the 
 moving creature having life, and the fowls that fly 
 above the earth. For Thy Sacraments, O God, by 
 the ministry of Thy Holy Ones, have moved amid the 
 waves of the temptations of the world, to consecrate 
 the nations in Thy name, by Thy Baptism. And 
 amid these things, many great wonders were wrought, 
 as it were, great whales; and the voices were heard of 
 Thy messengers flying above the earth, in the open fir- 
 mament of Thy Book, which was set over them, as' 
 their authority, under which they were to fly, whith- 
 ersoever they went. For there is no speech nor lan- 
 guage, where their voice is not heard; seeing their 
 sound is gone through all the earth, and their words 
 to the end of the world, because Thou, Lord, multi- 
 pliedst them by blessing. 
 
 27. Speak I untruly, or do I mingle and confound, 
 and not distinguish between the lucid knowledge of 
 these things in the firmament of heaven, and the ma- 
 terial works in the wavy sea, and under the firma- 
 ment of heaven f For of those things whereof the 
 knowledge is substantial and defined, without any 
 increase by generation, as it were lights of wisdom, 
 and knowledge, yet even of them, the material opera-
 
 394 AUegorical explanation of the 
 
 tions are many and divers, and one thing growing out 
 of another, they are multiplied by Thy blessing, O 
 God, who hast refreshed the fastidiousness of mortal 
 senses, so that one thing in the understanding of our 
 mind may, by the motions of the body, be many ways 
 set out and expressed. These Sacraments have the 
 waters brought forth / but in Thy Word. The neces- 
 sities of the people estranged from the eternity of 
 Thy truth have brought them forth ; but in Thy Gos- 
 pel. Because the icaters themselves cast them forth, 
 the diseased bitterness whereof was the cause why 
 they were sent forth in Thy Word. 
 
 28. Now are all things fair that Thou hast made, 
 but Thou Thyself art unutterably fairer, that madest 
 all ; from Whom had not Adam fallen, the brackish- 
 ness of the sea had never flowed out of him, that is, 
 the human race so profoundly curious, and tempestu- 
 ously swelling, and restlessly tumbling up and down ; 
 and then had there been no need of Thy dispensers 
 to work, in many waters, after a corporeal and sensi- 
 ble manner, mysterious doings and sayings. For such 
 dispensers those moving and flying creatures now 
 seem to me to mean, whereby men, being initiated 
 and consecrated by corporeal Sacraments, should not 
 further profit, unless their soul had a spiritual life, and 
 unless after the word of admission it looked forwards 
 to perfection. 
 
 XXI. 29. And hereby, in Thy Word, not the deep- 
 ness of the sea, but the earth separated from the bit- 
 terness of the waters, brings forth, not the moving 
 creature that hath life, but the living soul. For now
 
 living s<nd, fisJies, and fowls. 395 
 
 hath it no more need of baptism, as the heathen have, 
 and as itself had when it was covered with the waters. 
 For no other entrance is there into the kingdom of 
 heaven, since Thou hast appointed that this should be 
 the entrance ; nor does it seek after wonderfulness of 
 miracles to work belief. For it is not such, that un- 
 less it sees signs and wonders, it witt not believe, now 
 that the faithful earth is separated from the waters 
 that were bitter with infidelity, and tongues are for a 
 sign, not to them that believe, but to them that believe 
 not. Neither, therefore, does the earth which Thou 
 hast founded upon the waters, need that flying kind 
 which at Thy Word the waters brought forth. Send 
 Thou Thy Word into it by Thy messengers. For we 
 speak of their working, yet it is Thou that workest in 
 them that they may work out a living soul. The 
 earth brings the living soul forth, because the earth is 
 the cause that they work this in it, as the sea was the 
 cause that they wrought upon the moving creatures 
 that have life, and the fowls that fly under the firma- 
 ment of heaven, of whom the earth hath no need ; al- 
 though it feeds upon that fish which was taken out of 
 the deep, upon that table which Thou hast prepared 
 in the presence of them that believe. For therefore 
 was the fish taken out of the deep, that it might feed 
 the dry land ; and the fowl, though bred in the sea, is 
 yet multiplied upon the earth. Fo? of the first preach- 
 ings of the Evangelists, man's infidelity was the cause ; 
 yet are the faithful also exhorted and blessed by them 
 manifoldly, from day to day. But the living soul 
 takes its beginning from the earth ; for it profits only
 
 396 Exhortation to God^s ministers. 
 
 those already among the Faithful to contain them- 
 selves from the love of this world, that so their soul 
 may live unto Thee, which was dead while it lived 
 in pleasures, in death-bringing pleasures, Lord, for 
 Thou, Lord, art the life-giving delight of the pure 
 heart. 
 
 30. Now then let Thy ministers work upon the 
 earth, not as upon the waters of infidelity, by preach- 
 ing and speaking, by miracles and sacraments and 
 mystic words, wherein ignorance, the mother of ad- 
 miration, might be intent upon them, out of a rever- 
 ence towards those secret signs. For such is the en- 
 trance unto the Faith, for the sons of Adam forgetful 
 of Thee, while they hide themselves from Thy face, 
 and become a darksome deep. But let Thy ministers 
 work now as on the dry land, separated from the 
 whirlpools of the great deep ; and let them be a pat- 
 tern unto the Faithful, by living before them, and stir- 
 ring them up to imitation. For thus do men hear, so 
 as not to hear only, but to do also. Seek the Lord, 
 and your sold shall live, that the earth may bring 
 forth the living soul. Jie not conformed to the world. 
 Contain yourselves from it. The soul lives by avoid- 
 ing what it dies by loving. Contain yourselves from 
 the ungoverned wildness of pride, the sluggish volup- 
 tuousness of luxury, and the false name of knowledge; 
 that so the wild beasts may be tamed, the cattle 
 broken to the yoke, the serpents harmless. For these 
 are the motions of our mind under an allegory ; that 
 is to say, the haughtiness of pride, the delight of lust, 
 and the poison of curiosity, are the motions of a dead
 
 Restraining power of divine truth, 397 
 
 soul ; for the soul dies not so as to lose all motion ; 
 because it dies by forsaking the fountain of life^ 
 and so is taken up by this transitory world, and is 
 conformed unto it. 
 
 31.. But Thy word, O God, is the fountain of life 
 eternal, and passeth not away ; wherefore this depar- 
 ture of the soul is restrained by Thy word, when it is 
 said unto us, Be, not conformed unto this world ; that 
 so the earth may in the fountain of 'life bring forth a 
 living soul that is, a soul made continent in Thy 
 Word, by Thy Evangelists, by following the followers 
 of Thy Christ. For this is after his kind ; because a 
 man is wont to imitate his friend. J3e ye (saith he) as 
 I am, for I also am as you are. Thus in this living 
 soul shall there be good beasts, in meekness of action 
 (for Thou hast commanded, Go on with Thy business 
 in meekness, so shalt thou be beloved by all men); * and 
 good cattle, which neither if they eat shall they over- 
 ubound, nor, if they eat not, have any lack ; and good 
 serpents, not dangerous to do hurt, but wise to take 
 xieed, and only niaKing so much search into this tem- 
 poral nature, as may suffice that eternity be clearly 
 seen, being understood by the things that are made. 
 For these creatures are obedient unto reason, when, 
 being restrained from deadly attack upon us, they 
 live, and are good. 
 
 XXII. 32. For behold, O Lord our God, our Crea- 
 tor, when our affections have been restrained from the 
 love of the world, by which we died through evil- 
 
 l Sirach iii. 19. 
 28
 
 398 Explanation of the divine image. 
 
 living, and have begun to be a living soul, through 
 good living, and Thy word which Thou spakest by 
 Thy apostle,' is made good in us, Be not conformed 
 to this icorld, there follows that also which Thou pres- 
 ently subjoinedst, saying, But be ye transformed by 
 the renewing of your mind, not now after your kind, 
 as though following your neighbor who went before 
 you, nor as living after the example of some better 
 man. For Thou saidst not, " Let map be made after 
 his kind," but, Let us make man after our own image 
 and similitude, that we might prove what Thy will is. 
 For to this purpose, said that dispenser of Thine, who 
 begat children by the Gospel, that he might not for- 
 ever have them babes, whom he must be fain to feed 
 with milk, and cherish as a nurse : Be ye transformed 
 by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove 
 what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of 
 God. "Wherefore Thou sayest not, "Let man be 
 made," but '''Let us make man." Nor saidst Thou, 
 " according to his kind," but, "after our image and 
 likeness." For man being renewed in his mind, and 
 beholding and understanding Thy truth, needs not 
 man as his director, so as to follow after his kind ; 
 but by Thy direction proveth ichat is that good and 
 acceptable and perfect will of Thine ; and Thou teach- 
 est him, now made capable, to discern the Trinity of 
 the Unity, and the Unity of the Trinity. "\Vherefore 
 to that said in the plural, Let its make man, is yet 
 subjoined in the singular, And God made man ; and 
 to that said in the plural, After our likeness, is sub- 
 joined in the singular, After the image of God. Thus
 
 The judgment of the spiritual man. 399 
 
 is man reneiced in the knoicledge of God, after the 
 image of Him that created him ; and being made 
 spiritual, hejudgeth all things (all things which are 
 to be judged), yet himself is judged of no man. 
 
 XVIII. 33. But that \\ejudgeth all things, this an- 
 swers to his having dominion over the fish of the sea, 
 and over the fowls of the air, and over all cattle and 
 wild beasts, and over all the earth, and over every 
 creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. For this 
 he doth by the understanding of his mind, whereby 
 \\eperceiveth the things of the Spirit of God; whereas 
 otherwise, man, being placed in honor, had no under- 
 standing, and is compared unto the brute beasts, and 
 is become like unto them. lu Thy Church, therefore, 
 O our God, according to Thy grace which Thou hast 
 bestowed upon it (for we are Thy workmanship cre- 
 ated unto good icorks), not those only who are spirit- 
 ually set over, but they also who spiritually are sub- 
 ject to those that are set over them (for in this way 
 didst 'Thou make man male and female, in Thy spirit- 
 ual grace, where according to the sex of body there 
 is neither male nor female, because neither Jew nor 
 Grecian, neither bond nor free), all spiritual per- 
 sons, in Thy Church, whether such as are set over, or 
 such as obey, do judge spiritually. Not, indeed, of that 
 spiritual knowledge which shines in the firmament, for 
 they ought not to judge as to so supreme authority ; 
 nor may they judge of Thy Book itself, even though 
 something there shineth not clearly, for we submit 
 our understanding unto it, and hold for certain, that 
 even what is closed to our sight, is yet rightly and
 
 400 The judgment of 
 
 truly spoken. For man, though now spiritual, and 
 renewed in the knowledge of God after His image 
 that created him, ought to be a doer of the law, not a 
 judge. Neither doth he judge of that distinction of 
 spiritual and carnal men, who are known unto Thine 
 eyes, O our God, and have not as yet discovered 
 themselves unto us by works, that by their fruits we 
 might know them; but Thou, Lord, dost even now 
 know them, and hast divided and called them in 
 secret, before ever the firmament was made. Nor 
 doth he, though spiritual, judge the unquiet people of 
 tliis world ; for what hath he to do, to judge them that 
 are without, knowing not which of them shall hereaf- 
 ter come into the sweetness-of Thy grace, and which 
 continue in the perpetual bitterness of ungodliness. 
 
 34. Man, therefore, whom Thou hast made after 
 Thine own image, received not dominion over the 
 lights of heaven, nor over that hidden heaven itself, 
 nor over the day and the night, which Thou calledst 
 before the foundation of the heaven, nor over the 
 gathering together of the waters, which is the sea; but 
 he received dominion over the fishes of the sea, and 
 the fotcls of the air, and over all cattle, and over all 
 the earth, and over all creeping things which creep 
 vpon the earth. For he judgeth and approveth what 
 he fiudeth right, and he disalloweth what he findeth 
 amiss ; whether in the celebration olthat sacrament 
 by which such are initiated as Thy mercy searches out 
 in many waters; or in that, in which that^s/i 1 is set 
 
 l There is, probably, an allusion here to the early Christian monogram 
 Q-tov T-los 2w-T7j. ED.
 
 the spiritual man. 401 
 
 forth, which, taken out of the deep, the devout earth 
 feed upon j or in the expressions and signs of words, 
 subject to the authority of Thy Book, such signs, 
 as proceed out of the mouth, and sound forth, flying 
 as it were under the firmament, by interpreting, ex- 
 pounding, discoursing, disputing, consecrating, or pray- 
 ing unto Thee, so that the people may answer, Amen. 
 The vocal pronouncing of all which words, is oc- 
 casioned by the deep of this world, and the blindness 
 of the flesh, which cannot see thoughts, so that there 
 is need to speak aloud in the ears. Thus, although 
 flying foicls be multiplied upon the earth, yet they 
 derive their beginning from the waters. The spirit- 
 ual manjudgeth also by allowing of what is right, and 
 disallowing what he finds amiss, in the works and 
 lives of the faithful, in their alms, as it were the 
 earth bringing forth fruit' in the living soul, living 
 by the taming of the affections ; in chastity ; in fast- 
 ing ; in holy meditations concerning those things 
 which are perceived by the senses of the body. Upon 
 all these is he now said to judge, wherein he hath also 
 power of correction. 
 
 XXIV. 35. But what is this, and what kind of mys- 
 tery ? Behold, Thou blessest mankind, O Lord, that 
 they may increase and multiply, and replenish the 
 earth. Dost Thpu not thereby give us a hint to un- 
 derstand something ? Why didst Thou not as well 
 bless the light, which Thou cattedst day- and the fir- 
 mament of heaven, and the lights, and the stars, and 
 the sea f I might say that Thou, God, who created 
 us after Thine Image, I might say that it had been
 
 402 Why God blessed man, fishes, and fowls 
 
 Thy good pleasure to bestow this blessing peculiarly 
 upon man, hadst Thou not in like manner blessed the 
 fishes and the whales, that they should increase and 
 multiply, and replenish the waters of the sea, and that 
 the foicls shoidd be multiplied upon the earth. I 
 might say, likewise, that this blessing pertained prop- 
 erly unto such creatures as are bred of their own 
 kind, had I found it given to the fruit-trees, and 
 plants, and beasts of the earth. But now neither 
 unto the herbs, nor the trees, nor the beasts, nor ser* 
 pents is it said, Increase and multiply ; notwithstand 
 ing all these as well as the fishes, fowls, or men, do by 
 generation increase and continue their kind. 
 
 36. What then shall I say, O Truth my Light ? 
 " that it was idly said, and without meaning ? " Xot 
 so, O Father of piety, far be it from a minister of 
 Thy word to say so. And if I understand not what 
 Thou meanest by that phrase, let my betters, that is r 
 those of more understanding than myself, make bet- 
 ter use of it, according as Thou, my God, hast given 
 to each man to understand. But let my confession 
 also be pleasing in Thine eyes, wherein I confess unto 
 Thee, that I believe, O Lord, that Thou spakest not so 
 in vain ; nor will I suppress what this lesson suggests 
 to me. For it is truth ; nor do I see what should hin- 
 der me from thus understanding the figurative sayings 
 of Thy Bible. For I know a thing to be manifoldly 
 signified by corporeal expressions, which is understood 
 one way by the mind ; and that understood many ways 
 in the mind, which is signified one way by corporeal 
 expression. Behold, the single love of God and our
 
 and not herbs, and other animals. 403 
 
 neighbor, by what manifold sacraments, and innumer- 
 able languages, and in each several language in how 
 innumerable modes of speaking, it is corporeally ex- 
 pressed. Thus do the offsprings of the waters increase 
 and multiply. Observe again, whosoever thou art 
 that readest this. Behold what Scripture delivers, 
 and the voice pronounces in only one way : In the Be- 
 ginning God created heaven and earth; is it not un- 
 derstood manifoldly, not through any deceit of error, 
 but by various kinds of true senses ? Thus do man's 
 offspring increase and multiply. ' v 
 
 36. If, therefore, we conceive of the natures of the 
 things themselves, not allegorically, but properly, then 
 does the phrase increase and multiply agree unto all 
 things, that come of seed. But if we treat of the 
 words as figuratively spoken (which I rather suppose 
 to be the purpose of the Scripture, which doth not, 
 surely, superfluously ascribe this benediction to the 
 offspring of aquatic animals and man only), then do 
 we find "multitude" to belong to creatures spiritual 
 as well as corporeal, as in heaven and earth; and to 
 souls both righteous and unrighteous, as in light and 
 darkness; and to holy authors who have been the 
 ministers of the Law unto us, as in the firmament 
 which is settled betwixt the waters and the waters; 
 and to the society of people yet in the bitterness of 
 infidelity, as in the sea; and to the zeal of holy souls, 
 as in the dry land; and to works of mercy belonging 
 to this present life, as in the herbs bearing seed, and 
 in trees bearing fruit; and to spiritual gifts set forth 
 for edification, as in the lights of heaven; and to affeo
 
 404 The fruits of the earth signify 
 
 tions formed unto temperance, as in the living soul. 
 In all these instances we meet with multitudes, abun- 
 dance, and increase ; but what shall in such wise in- 
 crease and multiply, that one thing may be ex- 
 pressed many ways, and one expression be understood 
 many ways, we find not, except in signs corporeally 
 expressed, and in things mentally conceived. By signs 
 corporeally pronounced, we understand the genera- 
 tions of the Avaters, necessarily occasioned by the fer- 
 tility of the flesh; by things mentally conceived, 
 human generations, on account of the fruitfulness of 
 reason. And for this end do we believe Thee, Lord, 
 to have said to these kinds, Increase and multiply. 
 For in this blessing, I conceive Thee to have granted 
 us a power and a faculty, both to express several ways 
 what we understand but one ; and to understand sev- 
 eral ways, what we read to be obscurely delivered but 
 in one. Thus are the waters of the sea replenished, 
 which are not moved but by several significations; 
 thus with human increase is the earth also replenished, 
 whose dryness appeareth in its longing, and reason 
 ruleth over it. 
 
 XXV. 38. I would also say, O Lord my God, what 
 the following Scripture minds me of; yea, I will say, 
 and not fear. For I will say the truth, Thyself inspi- 
 ring me with what Thou wiliest me to deliver out of 
 those words. But by no other inspiration than Thine, 
 do I believe myself to speak truth, seeing Thou art 
 the Truth, and every man a liar. He, therefore, that 
 speaketh a lie, speaketh of his own; that therefore I 
 may speak truth, I will speak of Thine. Behold,
 
 works of benevolence. . 405 
 
 Thou hast given tmto us for food, every herb bearing 
 seed which is upon all the earth, and every tree in 
 which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed / and not 
 to us alone, but also to all the fowls of the air, and to 
 the beasts of the earth, and to all creeping things ; 
 but unto the fishes, and to the great whales, hast Thou 
 not given them. Now, we said that by these fruits 
 of the earth were signified, and figured in an allegory, 
 the works of mercy which are provided for the neces- 
 sities of this life out of the fruitful earth. Such an 
 earth was the devout Onesiphorus, unto whose house 
 Thou gavest mercy, because he often refreshed Thy 
 Paul, and icas not ashamed of his chain. Thus did 
 also the brethren, and such fruit did they bear, who 
 out of Macedonia supplied what was lacking to him. 
 But how grieved he for some trees, which did not 
 afford him the fruit due unto him, where he saith, 
 At my first answer no man stood by me, but all men 
 forsook me. I pray God that it may not be laid to 
 their charge. For these fruits are due to such as 
 minister the spiritual doctrine unto us out of their 
 understanding of the divine mysteries ; and they are 
 due to them, as men ; yea and due to them, also, as 
 the living soul, which giveth itself as an example, in 
 all continency ; and due unto them, also, as fiying 
 creatures, for their blessings which are multiplied 
 upon the earth, because their sound went out into all 
 lands. 
 
 XXVI. 39. But they are fed by these fruits, that 
 are delighted with them ; nor are they delighted with 
 them, whose God is their belly. For neither in them
 
 406 The worth of a gift, 
 
 that yield them, are the mere things yielded the 
 fruit, but with what mind they yield them. He 
 therefore that served God, and not his men belli/, I 
 plainly see why he rejoiced ; I see it, and I rejoice 
 with him. For he had received from the Philippians, 
 what they had sent by Epaphroditus unto him. And 
 I also perceive why he rejoiced so specially at that 
 whereon he fed. For, speaking in truth, he saith, 1 
 rejoiced greatly in the Lord, that now at the last your 
 care of me hath flourisJied again, wherein ye were 
 also careful, but it had become wearisome unto you. 
 These Philippians, then, had dried up, with a long 
 weariness, and withered, as it were, as to bearing this 
 fruit of a good work ; and he rejoiceth for them, 
 that they flourished again, and not merely for him- 
 self, that they supplied his wants. Therefore subjoins 
 he, Not that I speak in respect of want, for I have 
 learned in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be con- 
 tent. I know both hoic to be abased, and I know how 
 to abound ; everywhere and in all things I am in- 
 structed both to be full, and to be hungry ; both to 
 abound, and to suffer need. I can do all things 
 through Him which strengtheneth me. 
 
 40. Whereat then rejoicest thou, O great Paul ? 
 whereat rejoicest thou ? whereon feedest thou, O man, 
 renewed in the knowledge of God, after the image of 
 Hiiit that created thee, thou living soul, of so much 
 continency, thou tongue like flying foicls, speaking 
 mysteries (for to such creatures is this food due) ; 
 what is it that feeds thee ? Joy. Hear what follows : 
 notwithstanding, ye have well done, that ye did com-
 
 lies in the intention. 407 
 
 municate with my affliction. Hereat ho rejoiceth, 
 hcrcon feedeth ; because they had well done, not be- 
 cause his strait was eased who saith unto Thee, Thou 
 hast enlarged me when I was in distress; for he knew 
 how to abound, and to suffer want, in Thee, Who 
 strengthenest him. For ye Philippians also know, 
 (saith IK) that in the beginning of the Gospel, when 
 I departed from Macedonia, no church communi- 
 cated with me, as concerning giving and receiving, 
 but ye only. For even in Thessalonica ye sent once 
 and again unto my necessity. Unto these good 
 works, lie now rejoiceth that they are returned ; and 
 is gladdened that they flourished again, as when a 
 fruitful field resumes its green. 
 
 41. Was it because o his own necessities, that he 
 said, Ye sent unto my necessity ? Rejoiceth he for that? 
 Verily not for that. But how know this ? Because 
 himself says immediately, not because I desire a gift, 
 but I desire fruit. I have learned of Thee, my God, 
 to distinguish betwixt a gift, and fruit. A gift, is 
 the thing itself which he gives that imparts these 
 necessaries unto us, as money, meat, drink, clothing, 
 shelter, help ; but the fruit, is the good and right 
 will of the giver. For the Good Master said not 
 only, He that receiveth a prophet, but added, in the 
 name of a prophet ; nor did He only say, He that 
 receiveth a righteous man, but added, in the name of 
 a righteous man. So, verily, shall the one receive the 
 reward of a prophet, the other, the reward of a right- 
 eous man. Nor saith He only, He that shall give to 
 drink a cup of cold water to one of my little ones,
 
 408 The fishes and whales. 
 
 but added, in the name of a disciple ; and so con- 
 cludeth, Verily I say unto you. he shall not lose his 
 reward. The gift is, to receive a prophet, to receive a 
 righteous man, to give a cup of cold water to a 
 disciple; but the fruit is, to do this in the name of 
 a prophet, in the name of a righteous man, in the 
 name of a disciple. 
 
 With fruit was Elijah fed by the widow that knew 
 she fed a man of God, and therefore fed him ; but by 
 the raven was he fed with a gift. Nor was the inner 
 man of Elijah so fed, but the outer only; which might 
 also for want of that food have perished. 
 
 XXVII. 42. I will then speak what is true in 
 Thy sight, O Lord : namely, that when carnal men and 
 infidels, whom we suppose to be signified by the name 
 of fishes and whales (for the gaining and initiating 
 whom, the initiatory Sacraments and the mighty 
 workings of miracles are necessary), undertake the 
 bodily refreshment, or otherwise succor Thy servants 
 with something useful for this present life, inasmuch , 
 as they are ignorant, why this is to be done, and to 
 what end, they do not really feed these, nor are these 
 really fed by them ; because neither do the former* do 
 it out of an holy and right intent, nor do the latter 
 rejoice at their gifts, whose fruit they as yet behold 
 not. For upon that is the mind fed, of which it is 
 glad. And therefore do not the fishes and whales 
 feed upon such meats as the earth brings not forth 
 until after it was separated, and divided, from the bit- 
 terness of the waves of the sea. 
 
 XXVIII. 43. And Thou, God, sawest every-
 
 God not conditioned by time. 409 
 
 thing that Thou hadst made, and behold, it was very 
 good. Yea we also see the same, and behold, all 
 things are. very good. Of the several kinds of Thy 
 works, when Thou hadst said " let them be," and they 
 were, Thou sawest each that it was good. Seven 
 times have I counted it to be written, that Thou saw- 
 est that that which Thou tnadest was good ; and this 
 is the eighth, that Thou sawest every thing that Thou, 
 hadst made, and behold it was not only good, but 
 also very good, as being now one, and altogether. 
 For severally they were only good / but altogether, 
 both good, and very good. All beautiful bodies ex- 
 press the same ; because a body consisting of members 
 all beautiful, is far more beautiful than the same 
 members by themselves are, by whose well-ordered 
 blending the whole is perfected, although the mem- 
 bers, severally, be also beautiful. 
 
 XXIX. 44. And I looked narrowly to find, whether 
 seven, or eight times, Thou sawest that Thy works 
 were good, when they pleased Thee ; but in Thy see- 
 ing I found no times, whereby I might understand 
 that Thou sawest so often, what Thou madest. And 
 I s*aid, " Lord, is not this Thy Scripture true, since 
 Thou art true, and being Truth, hast set it forth ? 
 Why dost Thou say unto me, * that in Thy seeing 
 there be no times ;' whereas this Thy Scripture tells 
 me, that what Thou madest each day, Thou sawest 
 that it icas good ; and when I counted them, I 
 found how often." Unto this Thou answerest me, 
 for Thou art my God, and with a strong voice tellest 
 Thy servant in his inner ear, breaking through my
 
 410 Gnostic and Manichaean cosmogonies. 
 
 i 
 
 deafness and crying, " O man, that which my Scrip- 
 ture saith, I say. And yet doth that speak in time ; 
 but time has no relation to My Word, because My 
 Word exists in equal eternity with Myself. So, the 
 things which ye see through My Spirit, I see ; and 
 what things ye speak by My Spirit, I speak. And 
 yet when ye see those things in time, I see them not 
 in time ; and when ye speak them in time, I speak 
 them not in time." 
 
 XXX. 45. And I heard, O Lord my God, and 
 drank up a drop of sweetness out of Thy truth, and 
 understood. For there are certain men who dis- 
 like Thy works ; and say that many of them Thou 
 madest because compelled by necessity ; such as the 
 fabric of the heavens, and harmony of the stars; and 
 that Thou madest them not of what was Thine, but 
 that they were otherwhere and from other sources 
 created, for Thee to bring together and compact and 
 combine, when out of Thy conquered enemies Thou 
 raisedst up the walls of the universe ; that they, 
 bound down by this structure, might not again be 
 able to rebel against Thee. And there are still other 
 things, they say, which Thou neither madest, iTor 
 even compactedst, such as all fleshly creatures, and 
 all very minute creatures, and whatsoever hath its 
 root in the earth ; but that a mind at enmity with 
 Thee, and another nature, not created by Thee, and 
 contrary unto Thee, did, in these lower stages of the 
 world, beget and frame these things. Frenzied are 
 they who say thus, because they see not Thy works 
 by Thy Spirit, nor recognize Thee in them.
 
 Man's need of illumination. 411 
 
 XXXI. 46. But they who, by Thy Spirit, see these 
 tilings, Thou seest in them. Therefore, when they 
 see that these things are good, Thou seest that they 
 are good ; and whatsoever things for Thy sake 
 please, Thou pleasest in them; and what through 
 Thy Spirit please us, they please Thee in us. For 
 what man knoweth the things of a man, save the 
 spirit of a man, ichich is in him? even so the things 
 of God Jcnoiceth no one, but the Spirit of God. Now 
 we (saith he) have received, not the spirit of this 
 world, but the /Spirit which is of God, that we might 
 know the things that are freely given us of God. 
 The objection occurs to me: "Certainly the things of 
 God knoweth no one, but the Spirit of God ; how 
 ..then do we also know, what things are given us of 
 God?" Answer is made me: "Because the things 
 which we know by His Spirit, even these no one 
 kiiowcth, but the Sjnrit of God. For as it is rightly 
 said unto those that were to speak by the Spirit of 
 God, It is not ye that speak ; so is it rightly said 
 to them that know through the Spirit of God, ' It is 
 not ye that know.' And no less, then, is it rightly 
 said to those that see through the Spirit of God, ' It 
 is not y^that see;' so whatsoever through the Spirit 
 of God they see to be good, it is not they, but God 
 that sees that it is good. n It is one thing, then, for 
 a man to think that to be evil which is good, as the 
 forenamed do; another thing that a man should see 
 that that which is good is good (for Thy creatures 
 are pleasing unto many because they are good, whom 
 yet Thou pleasest not in them, because they prefer
 
 412 Summary of the 
 
 to enjoy them to Thee) ; and another thing that 
 when a man sees that a thing is good, God should in 
 him see that is good, so, namely, that He should be 
 loved in that which He made, Who cannot be loved, 
 but by the Holy Ghost which he hath given. Because 
 the love of God is shed abroad -in our hearts by the 
 Holy Ghost, Which is given unto us / by Whom we 
 see that whatsoever in any degree truly is, is good. 
 For from Him it truly is, Who Himself is not in de- 
 gree, but what He Is, Is. 
 
 XXXII. 47. Thanks to Thee, O Lord, we behold 
 the heaven and earth, both the corporeal part, supe- 
 rior and inferior, and the spiritual and corporeal crea- 
 ture ; and in the adorning of these parts, whereof 
 the universal pile of the world, or rather the univer- 
 sal creation, doth consist, we see light made, and di- 
 vided from the darkness. We see the firmament of 
 heaven, both that primary body of the world, between 
 the spiritual upper waters and the inferior corporeal 
 waters? and (since this also is called heaven) this 
 space of air through which wander the fowls of 
 heaven, betwixt those waters which are in vapors 
 borne above them, and in dear nights distil down 
 in dew, and those heavier icaters which floV along 
 the earth. We behold a surface of icaters gathered to- 
 gether in the fields of the sea ; and the dry land botli 
 void and formed so as to be visible and harmonized, 
 yen, and the matter of herbs and trees. We behold 
 
 1 Augustine, in his Retractationes (Lib. II. Cap. 6) remarks: Qnod 
 dixi firmamtntum factum inter spintales aquas superior's et corporate* in- 
 /entires, nou satis considerate dictum est ; res autem in abdito cst valde. 
 
 ED.
 
 works of the Creator. 413 
 
 the lights, shining from above ; the sun, to suffice for 
 the day, the moon and the stars to cheer the night; 
 and that, by all these, times should be marked and 
 signified. We behold pn all sides a moist element 
 replenished with fishes, beasts, and birds ; because 
 the grossness of the air, which bears up the flights 
 of birds, thickeneth itself by the exhalation of the 
 waters. We behold the face of the earth decked 
 out with earthly creatures ; and man, created after 
 Thy image and likeness, even through Thy very 
 image and likeness, that is the power of reason and 
 understanding, set over all irrational creatures. And 
 as in his soul there is one power which has dominion 
 by directing, another made subject, that it might 
 obey; so was there for the man, corporeally also 
 made a woman, who, in the mind of her reasonable 
 understanding, should have a parity of nature, but 
 in the sex of her body, should be in like manner 
 subject to the sex of her husband, as the appetite of 
 doing is fain to obtain the skill of right-doing, from 
 the reason of the mind. These things we behold, 
 and they are severally good, and taken altogether 
 very good. 
 
 XXXIII. 48. Let Thy works praise Thee, that wu 
 may love Thee; and let us love Thee, that Thy 
 works may praise Thee, which from time have be- 
 ginning and ending, rising and setting, growth and 
 decay, form and privation. They have then their 
 succession of morning and evening, part secretly, 
 part apparently." For they were made of nothing by 
 Thee, not of Thee ; not of any matter not Thine, or that 
 
 29
 
 414 Creation is de nihilo. 
 
 was before Thy creative act, but of matter concreated 
 (that is, a matter in which the matter and fonn were 
 simultaneously created by Thee), because to its state 
 without form, Thou without any interval of time didst 
 give form. For seeing the matter of heaven and 
 earth is one thing, and the form another, Thou 
 madest the matter of merely nothing, but the form 
 of the world out of .the matter without form : yet 
 both together, so that the form should follow the 
 matter, without any interval of delay. 1 
 
 XXXIV. 49. "We have also examined what Thou 
 willedst to be shadowed forth, whether by the crea- 
 tion, or the relation of things in such an order ; 
 and we have seen, that things singly are good, and 
 together very good, in Thy "Word, in Thy Only- 
 Begotten, both heaven and earth, the head and the 
 body of the church, in Thy predestination befoi'e all 
 times, without morning and evening. But when 
 Thou begannest to execute in time the things predes- 
 tinated, to the end Thou mightest reveal hidden 
 things, and rectify our disorders (for our sins hung 
 over us, and we had sunk into the dark deep, and 
 Thy good Spirit was borne over us, to help us in due 
 season), Thou didst justify the ungodly, and dividedst 
 them from the wicked ; and Thou madest the firma- 
 ment of authority of Thy book between those placed 
 above, who were to be docile unto Thee, and those 
 
 l Augustine here precludes that theory of creation which regards the 
 Deity as conditioned by an eternally existent v\r), an error in which 
 some of the early Christian Fathers, e. g., Justin Martyr, were involved 
 Compare Guericke's Church History, 53. ED.
 
 Recapitulatory statement. 415 
 
 placed under, who were to be subject to them ; and 
 thou gatheredest together the society of unbelievers 
 into one conspiracy, that the zeal of the faithful might 
 appear, and they might bring forth works of mercy, 
 even distributing to the poor their earthly riches, to 
 obtain heavenly. And after this, didst Thou kindle 
 certain lights in the firmament, Thy Holy ones hav- 
 ing the word of life, and shining with an eminent 
 authority set on high through spiritual gifts. After 
 this, again, for the initiation of the unbelieving Gen- 
 tiles, didst Thou, out of corporeal matter, produce 
 the Sacraments, and visible miracles, and forms of 
 words, according to the firmament qf Thy Book, by 
 which the faithful should be blessed and multiplied. 
 Next, didst Thou form the living soul of the faithful, 
 through affections well ordered by the vigor of con- 
 tinency. After that hast Thou renewed the mind, 
 subjected to Thee alone and needing to imitate no 
 human authority, after Thy image and likeness^ and 
 didst subject its rational actions to the excellency of 
 the understanding, as the woman to the man; and, to 
 all offices of Thy Ministry, necessary for the perfecting 
 of the faithful in this life, Thou willedst, that, for 
 their temporal uses, good things, fruitful to them- 
 selves in time to come, be given by the same faithful. 
 All these we see, and they are very good, because 
 Thou seest them in us, "Who hast given unto us Thy 
 Spirit, by which we might see them, and in them 
 love Thee. 
 
 XXXV. 50. O Lord God, give peace unto us (for 
 Thou hast given us all things), the peace of rest, the
 
 416 Augustine sighs for 
 
 peace of the Sabbath which hath no evening. For 
 all this most goodly array of things very good, having 
 finished their courses, is to pass away, for in them 
 there was morning and evening, 
 
 XXXVI. 51. But the seventh day hath no even- 
 ing, nor hath it setting, because Thou hast sanctified 
 it to an everlasting continuance ; that that which 
 Thou didst after Thy works which were very good, 
 namely, resting the seventh day (although Thou 
 madest them in unbroken rest), we, too, may do, 
 Thy Book announcing beforehand unto us, that we, 
 also, after our works (very good, because Thou hast 
 given them to us), shall rest in Thee also, in the Sab- 
 bath of eternal life. 
 
 XXXVII. 52. For Thou shalt rest in us, as now 
 Thou workest in us ; and Thy rest shall be through 
 us, as Thy works are through us. But Thou, Lord, 
 ever workest, and art ever at rest. Nor dost Thou 
 see in time, nor art moved in time, nor rested in 
 time ; and yet Thou makest things seen in time, yea 
 the times themselves, and the rest which results from 
 time. 
 
 XXXVm. 53. We therefore see these things 
 which Thou madest, because they are ; but they are 
 because Thou seest them. And we see without, that 
 they are, and within, that they are good ; but Thou 
 sawest them when made, as Thou sawest them before 
 they were made. And we were at a later time moved 
 to do well, after our hearts had conceived of Thy 
 Spirit ; but in the former time we were moved to do 
 evil, forsaking Thee. But Thou, the One, the Good
 
 the everlasting rest. 417 
 
 God, didst never cease doing good. And we also 
 have some good works, of Thy gift, but not eternal ; 
 after them we trust to rest in Thy great hallowing. 
 But Thou, being the Good which needeth no good, 
 art ever at rest, because Thy rest is Thyself. And 
 what man can teach man to understand this ? or what 
 angel an angel ? or what angel a man ? Let it be 
 asked of Thee, sought of Thee, knocked for at Thee : 
 so, so shall it be received, so shall it be found, so shall 
 it be opened. Amen.
 
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