The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/cletails/cu31924079583476 3 1924 079 583 476 LIBRARY OF FATHERS OF THE HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH, ANTERIOR TO THE DIVISION OF THE EAST AND WEST. TRANSLATED BY MEMBERS OP THE BNOLISH CHURCH. YET SHALL NOT THY TEACHERS BE REMOVED INTO A CORNER ANY MOKE, BDT THINE EYES SHALL SEE THY TEACHERS. Isaiuh XXX. 20. VOL. I. OXFORD, JOHN HENRY PARKER ; J. G. F. AND J. RIVINGTON, LONDON. MDCCCXL. BAXTER, PRINTER, OXFORD' TO THE MOST REVEREND FATHER IN SOD WILLIAM LORD ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, PRIMATE OF ALL ENGLAND, FOBMEBLY REGIUS PROFESSOR OF DIVINITY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, , THIS LIBRARY OF ANCIENT BISHOPS, FATHERS, DOCTORS, MARTYRS, CONFESSORS, OF CHRIST'S HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH, IS WITH HIS SRACe's PERMISSION RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, IN TOKEN OF REViRKNCE FOR HIS PERSON AND SACRED OFFICE, AND OF S-RATITUDK FOR HIS EPISCOPAL KINDNESS. THE CONFESSIONS S. AUGUSTINE. THE C ONFE S SIGN S S. AUGUSTINE. REVISED FROM A FORMER TRANSLATION, BY THE REV. E. B. PUSEY, D.D. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM S. AU&USTINE HIMSELF. OXFORD, JOHN HENRY PARKER; J. G. F. AND J. RIVINGTON, LONDON. MDCCCXL. PREFACE TO THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE. The general objects of the " Library of the Fathers," have been already summarily stated". It may however be well, before entering on the particular work with which the series is commenced, to make a few observations with reference to such misapprehensions, or errors, as are not unlikely to arise. For though certainly it should seem, that the writings of men, ever venerated by the Church on whom they were be- stowed, ought to be received with thankfulness ; yet, in the present state of things, some wiU perhaps rather be suspicious of the gift, through want of familiarity with the Fathers themselves, and the principles of our Church with regard to their value. A few words then may here be said, for the sake of such as are honestly in doubt on the subject. More will be avoided, lest we should seem to wish to be heard ourselves, when our only wish is to obtain a hearing for those ancient wit- nesses of Catholic truth, and ourselves also to listen to them. At the same time, it must be said in the outset, that " authority" is not put forth as the use of the Fathers; it is dwelt upon thus prominently, only because it is an use, about which many misapprehensions exist. These misconceptions may be referred to three heads. 1. The amount of authority claimed: 2. For whom: and, 3. For what that authority is claimed. For it seems by some to be thought, thai, 1. The authority of the Fathers will interfere whh the paramount authority of Holy Scripture. 2. That it * Prospectus. See end of the vol. b ii PHEFACE. involves ascribing undue authority to men fallible like our- selves, and exalting the dicta of one or the other Father, which may be erroneous. 3. That the appeal to the Fathers entails a disparagement of the authority of our own Church, and innovations upon her discipline or doctrine. They, who so tliink, are of c6urse right to be jealous for these things, — if only they be careful that they are jealous for the authority of Holy Scripture and of our Church, not for their own constructions of either ; — every Churchman should be careful that he place not any private authority, whether of ancient or modern, Father or recent teacher, domestic autho- rity or foreign, Churchman or Sectarian, above that of his Church, or put any human authority on a par with Holy Scripture. Our Church, however, once, solemnly met, did ascribe considerable authority to the Fathers, and it will be plain, both from the circumstances, and from the tenor of the words which she used, that she therein neither derogated from her own legitimate authority, nor from the supreme authority of Holy Scripture. It is plain from the circumstances, because it was the act of the Convocation of A.D. 1571, the same Convocation, which enforced Subscription to our Articles, — an act certainly evidencing their sense of the power of a par- ticular Church, and one involving the claim of considerable authority; and those Articles decidedly recognizing Holy Scripture, as the sole ultimate source of authority. In this very Convocation, in which she exerted her own authority, she secured also the legitimate authority of the Fathers. She then enacted, The Clergy shall be careful never to teach any THING from the PULPIT, TO BE RELIGIOUSLY HELD AND believed by the people, but what is agreeable to the DOCTRINE OF THE OlD OR NeW TESTAMENT, AND COXLECTED OUT OF THAT SAME DOCTRINE BY THE CaTHOLIC FaTHERS, AND ANCIENT BiSHOPS. Thus at the same time that she was, by enforcing subscrip- tion to the Articles, fencing herself round, as a particular PREFACE. iii Church, she formally maintained her connection with the Church Catholic, and made provision that her Ministers should not narrow her teaching, but retain it as co-extensive with that of the Universal Church. The very language of this Canon itself shews, that the rightful authority of the Fathers interferes neither with that of Holy Scripture, nor with her own. First then, there is no semblance of " contrasting Scripture and the Fathers, as coordinate authority." Scripture is reve- renced as paramoimt; the " doctrine of the Old or New Testament" is the source ; the " Catholic Fathers and ancient Bishops" have but the office of " collecting out of that same doctrine ;" the Old and New Testaments are the fountain ; the Catholic Fathers, the channel, through which it has flowed down to us. The contrast, then, in point of authority, is not between Holy Scripture and the Fathers, but between the Fathers and its ; not between the Book interpreted and the interpreters, but between one class of interpreters and another; between ancient Catholic truth and modem private opinions; not, as is sometimes said, between the word of God and the word of man, but between varying modes of understanding the word of God. Scripture is the depository of the will of our Heavenly Father, His will. His covenant; but since every thing conveyed in the language of men will be liable to be by men differently interpreted, it would, of course, be a merciful provision of Almighty God, if He has been pleased to give us, within certain limits, rules for understanding that word. Now any one would acknowledge, in any man's testa- ment, that if the father, when yet with his children, had ex- plained to them the meaning of his testament, (whether formally reading it to them, or conveying to them its substance in other words,) such an exposition would be of great authority in ascertaining the meaning of the general tenor of that testa- ment, or of any portion of it which might otherwise seem capable of two interpretations. And if such children, when their father was no longer present here, were, when asked, b2 iv PREFACE. without any wrong bias, to explain such will in one and the same way, and to declare that their father had told them that it was so to be understood, we should yield unhesitating assent to this testimony. Nor again would our value for that testi- mony be weakened, if, instead of the immediate children, the children's children should be the witnesses, especially had they been separated from each other in different countries, yet all agreed in the meaning which they had learnt from their several parents was to be attached to the will of their common father. All such illustrations as this must indeed fall short of the truth, because such reference to the things of men can furnish no adequate parallel to those of God. Thus, this illustration omits, that Holy Scripture is not a formal document, written for the purpose of conveying systematic, precise, state- ments ; or, again, that God did not leave the meaning of His word to be collected any how, or ever did employ it without living guardians and expounders, and the like. It suffices, however, for the purpose for which it is here used. It gives an instance, how in the case of such agTeement as to the meaning of a document, no one would doubt about it; (the testimony of the sons of Jonadab, the son of Rechab, was valid testimony as to that which their father commanded them ;) nor, in the case of a written document, would any one say that these witnesses were regarded as equal in authority to that to whose meaning they bore testimony, since the very fact of appealing to, and expounding an original document, implies that it is the ultimate source of authority; it is not, as men say, its independence, but ours, which is denied ; it is the independent source of authority ; but we, to be satisfied of its meaning, are not independent, (as some would wish lo be,) but depend upon the testimony of others. These points then are plain; 1. The paramount authority of the document ap- pealed to. 2. The authority of concurring testimony to its meaning, if it is to be had from those to whom its meaning was originally explained, or their descendants. Now this is just what is claimed by our Church for the Fathers, i. e. for PREFACE. V the ancient Church, in whatever way its testimony is to be collected; whether they had themselves occasion to deposit it once for all, as at the General Councils (truly so called), or whether, though not collected by themselves, it is still capable of being collected from them. They are witnesses, and in whatever cases agreement is to be had, they are valid witnesses, as to the sense in which God willed His Scripture to be un- derstood. Thus, we are assured at once, without further scruple, that theNicene Creed contains the Scriptural Doctrine of the Holy Trinity, not only in case any can prove it to them- selves to be such, (for as to some of its Articles many might find much difficulty in so doing,) but because we have the witness of the whole Church that it is so. We believe that it " may be proved by most certain warrant of Holy Scripture," (Art. VIII.) because it was so proved, and the Church Universal bore witness that such was the meaning of Holy Scripture on these awful truths, and that such was the interpretation which they had received from their fathers, and so from the Apostles. It is our privilege, that questions so decided are closed — ^not against us, but for us — or, if we so will, for us against our- selves. We have ground to be satisfied that the results so gained are true, and may benefit by them, without the labour of further questioning. We are satisfied to " receive them as agreeable to the Doctrine of the Old and New Testaments," even because " the Catholic Fathers and ancient Bishops have gathered it out of that very Doctrine," for us as well as for themselves. The Fathers, then, are not, as some mistakenly suppose, equalled, much less preferred, to Holy Scripture, but only to ourselves, i. e. the ancient to the modem, the waters near the fountain to the troubled sestuary rolled back- ward and forward by the varying tide of human opinion, and rendered brackish by the continued contact with the bitter waters of this world, unity to disunion, the knowledge of the near successors of the Apostles to that of these latter times. The same will be the case as to any other truths, '' consen- taneous to the Doctrine of the Old and New Testament," vi PREFACE. which the Fathers had not occasion to collect, but which still may be collected from their existing works. The Creeds, indeed, happily contain the great mass of Doctrine, although even as to these, (as is apparent from the very expositions of the Creeds, e. g. Bp. Pearson's,) a further enquiry is necessary to ascertain what is the precise meaning of these compendious statements in some of their Articles. The process in such cases may be longer, but the result the same. We become assured that we know what was the Apostolic doctrine, when we have the agreement of early and independent witnesses as to that Doctrine. 2. There can be no notion of " appealing to fallible men, as of ultimate authority, or setting up unduly the authority of one or other of the Fathers." The appeal of our Church is not to the Fathers, mdividually, or as individuals, but as witnesses; not to this or that Father, but to the whole body, and agreement of" Catholic Fathers and ancient J3ishops." The appeal is not to St. Athanasius, or St. Cyprian, or St. Basil, much as we have reason to venerate those blessed servants of God, but to " the Church Universal throughout the world," to whose belief these are eminent, but still single, witnesses. We could not tell, from any single Father, unless where he directly avers it, whether any sentiment or statement of doctrine be peculiar to himself or his own Church, or to some particular Churches, or whether, finally, it belong to the belief of the Holy Church Universal. It may be, that any given Father, on some parti- cular point, is not speaking as a witness at all, but expressing only his own individual sentiments, as an enlightened Chris- tian of the present day might. Not but that he would even then be to be regarded with deference by individuals, (unless indeed he should be at variance with the majority of the ancients,) but it would be, in part, in a different capacity. We should regard him then with respect, in that he lived in holier and more self-denying times, before the Church was divided, while the memory of the truths first delivered was fresher, and men's perception of the " analogy of the Faith" PREFACE. vii more vivid. There would be greater likelihood that he would be in the right, as an individual, in that the tone of his mind would be more likely to be in entire accordance with that of the Holy Spirit, that he would have larger measures of that Spirit, and have no opposing prejudices to disturb His influence. There would be a greater likelihood also of his being a witness, in that the statement which he was delivering, may very pro- bably have been aflFected or produced by the body of Catholic truth then floating in the Church, but which has not arrived orally down to us, or for which we have, through later circum- stances, a less keen perception. Still, we have thus far only a probability that he was herein speaking the truth, and it might be that he was under some secret bias of his own, as St. Augustine has generally been held to be with regard to some part of his controversy with the Pelagians. The words then of an individual Father may be only those of an enlight- ened man ; it is only by their harmony or unity with others, that we ascertain them to be part of the Catholic Verities. By comparing them with those of other members of his Church, (who have ever been quoted as of eminence in each Church,) we should ascertain them to be the doctrines of that Church ; by comparison with other Churches, to be part of the teaching of the Church Catholic. Each Father is, in the first instance, probably a witness for the doctrine of his own Church, and indirectly, and ultimately, through his Church, of the Church Catholic, if so be his Church herein agree with the other Churches. For, some things we find in the African, some in the Latin Church, peculiar to those Churches j some things, again, in two or more Churches, which yet we have no proof that they were ever Catholic. Things so held, or prac- tices so received, (such as the re-baptizing of heretics, held in the Churches of Africa proper, Egypt, Asia Minor,) would, of course, be entitled to their degree of weight, in that they were so entertained in ancient or Apostolic Churches, and would claim the more respect, if it should appear that there was no positive evidence on the other side, (as in case other Churches viii PREFACE. knew not of them, but knew of no authority positively opposed to them ;) — still they would be to be regarded very differently from what was universally received. It is that only, which, according to Vincentius' invaluable rule, was received " by all, in all Churches, and at all times," (i. e. that, whose begin- ning cannot be traced, so that it should appear that the Church ever knew not of it, and in the evidence of whose reception there are no flaws, as if it should appear not to have been held either by distinct Churches, or by eminent individuals in each Church,) which has the degree of evidence, upon which we can undoubtingly pronounce that it is Apostolic. 3. Our Church being a sound member of the Church Ca- tholic, " there is no notion of innovating upon her doctrine or practice," but rather of bringing out more fully how Catholic that doctrine and practice are, to determine in many cases what the meaning of her teaching is, to shew things to be Ca- tholic and Primitive, and so Apostolic, which people, because they have only seen them in our Church, think to be human. Thus, much doctrine is contained in our Collects, much in our Sacramental Services, which, as belonging to high antiquity, can only be fiilly understood by means of that antiquity whence it is derived ; and which, so understood, will appear in its real character, as part of those primitive ordinances or teaching, which the Apostles were guided by the Holy Spirit to establish or impart in the Churches, which they severally founded. Thus, as far as any appeal is made to antiquity, as, in the other case, it is made, not to the disparagement of Scripture, (God forbid !) but against modem interpretations of Scripture, so here it is made, not against our own Church, or as wishing to superadd any thing to it, but against modem misinterpretations of her meaning. The great object of prac- tical and reverential men, must be, for a long time, confined to bringing out her existing system, in its depth, beauty, and fulness: if it should please God, that these should be ever fully and generally appreciated and felt in the Church, not with the patrouizing pretensions of" friends of the Church," PREFACE. ix but with the dutiful devotion of sons, they, whose minds shall have been so purified and enlightened, will doubtless be guided to do what is best for their parent ; our office is not to amend her, but respectfully to learn her real character our- selves, and convey it to those who wish to know it. Rather, the office of the present generation is to restore her sons to her ; and she, when she shall again be raised from the dust, and have put on her jewels, like a bride, will be led by the Spirit of the Church, to do what is best for her children. What is done for the Church, as a whole, must be done by the Church, as a whole. The object then of recalling men's attention to the Fathers, so far as relates to the establishment of doctrine or practice, is, subordinately to Scripture, to bring out the meaning of Holy Scripture, and, with respectful deference to our Church, to lead people to see the Catholic and Primitive character and meaning of the treasures which she possesses. To those who doubt whether there be any such thing as Catholic agree- ment, having been accustomed to partial statements of the variations of the Fathers, it can only be said, as of old time, " Come and see ;" and we doubt not that they who have the candour of Nathanael, will, imder the guise of flesh, see Him Whom they seek, — will,inhis Church, see Him, Who promised to be with His Church, " even to the end of the world," per- vading by His Spirit men of different temperaments, intellec- tual powers, learning, speech, discipline or depth or acuteness of mind, but fitting them alike, by docility and holiness, to carry on His message to the Church, and keep and transmit to us that one good thing committed unto them. Meanwhile one or two remarks or cautions may be of use, with a view to prepare the more candid of those who have misgivings about the Fathers, to receive them, 'as not to receive them amiss. It is not denied, then, that there is diversity among the Fathers ; the very contrary is implied in the very distinction of what is Catholic, and what is not ; since, if there were no X PREFACE. diversity, all would be Catholic. But then, as Bp. Beveridge'' well retorts the objection, " all the dissensions which have been raised among them on certain points, take nothing from their supreme authority on those points on which they agree, but rather in an eminent degree confirm it. For the fact that in other things they have differed, most plainly manifests, that those things, on which they have agreed, they have handed down, not from any compact or agreement, not from any party formed, not from any communication of design, nor, finally, from their own private opinions, but naked and unadul- terated, as derived from the common and general interpretation of the Universal Church. And indeed, although, on certain less necessary points, as well of faith as of discipline, the ancient Fathers do in some little degree differ one from an- other, yet that very many things have been received with the fiillest agreement by all, is so clear, that we may judge of it with our own eyes. For there are many things, which we see have been defined by the Universal Church in Councils truly oecumenical, many things which have been approved by the consent of several, many things by the consent of all the writers of the Church ; many things, finally, concerning which there was in ancient times no controversy moved; some of this class have been mentioned by us above, to which very many others may be added ; those especially, which, although not definitively prescribed in Holy Scripture, have yet been retained by our very pious and prudent reformers of the English Church." Any one, indeed, who would reflect how many subjects are contained in our Creeds, and how many other truths these involve, how many again in our Liturgy, and how many prac- tices and rites are herein contained, on all which there was universal agreement in the ancient Church, will be slow to receive the vague assertions of the discordancy of her teachers, ' In his most valuable preface to the of Lirins' Commonitory, Oxford, 1836, Codex Canonum. The translation pre- has been employed, fixed to the Translation of Vineentius PREFACE. xi which are wont to be made by such as have but a superficial acquaintance with Christian antiquity. For a superficial ac- quaintance, and a superficial view, will only see discrepancy, where to one who can see a little below the surface, all is unity and harmony. The rills are different, the spring one. Then, also, the points of disagreement (where there is such) are offshoots, so to speak, remotely connected with the trunk, not the main stem of doctrine or practice : or they are details, where agreement is in principle ; or they are points, which have been left free for the human mind to expatiate upon, and on which no definite result has been communicated, or is to be looked for. Disagreement on such points does not affect agreement upon the others, unless there be no such thing as partial knowledge, or unless because " we know in part," we know nothing, and are to be sceptics, because we are not " as God." And, in truth, these notions of Christian antiquity originate in an imconscious, and may, and have ended, in a conscious, scepticism. There is, indeed, one ground, on which people rest their despair of finding agreement in Christian antiquity, (per- haps, more truly in many cases, their hope that they may find none against themselves,) which deserves respect, for the sake of the source whence it is drawn : the descriptions of early divisions and heresies, in Holy Scripture. But the in- ference is founded on two mistakes ; 1. The divisions were not between the recognized teachers of the Church ; nor arose in misapprehensions of their doctrine ; but the carnal among those who were taught, " would not endure sound doctrine ;" and so " heaped to themselves" heretical " teach- ers." Thus Paul and Apollos taught the same doctrine ; it is the rivalry of Aere^icaZ teachers, which St. Paul condemns; in speaking whereof, St. Paul " transfers to himself and Apollos" what others were guilty of, that they might " learn in them," that there was to be no private teaching or authority in the Church ; no name, however high, was to be set up as being any thing individually ; but all were to " speak the xii PREFACE. same thing'," as having but one Gospel to deliver, and " with one mind, one mouth, glorify God''." 2. The authors of these heresies ceased to be members of the Church, " they went out from us ;" so that one must not only speak of heresies, or heretical teachers " creeping into the Church," but of their being ejected out of it. They strove to assimilate themselves to it, but they could not ; the inherent vitality of the Church separated and rejected them from it ; and if they still appeared on its surface, no one could any more mistake them for the Church, than in a fair human countenance they would the foul matter, which the healthy action of the body had detached firom itself. Hence St. Augustine takes blame to himself, for not having been at pains to ascertain the Church's doc- trine, and having carped at what, after all, were but his own notions of it'. So then he might have known it, had he pleased. There was a recognized body of Catholic truth, which belonged to the Church, and which whoso willed, might know to be her's. The modem doubts as to the meaning of the Church had no place then. In truth, the existence of early heresies, so far from at all disparaging Catholic unity, the more illustrates it ; there was unity within the Church, and that unity so living and so powerful, that whoso abandoned the true doctrine ceased to be a member of it ; " they went out from us, because they were not of us." " The rejection of heretics," says St. Augustine', " makes the tenets of Thy Chm-ch and sound doctrine stand out more clearly." Even in a less healthy state of the Church, it becomes clear in the long run, which doctrine was of the Church, which in the Church only; no one, for instance, would mistake Hoadley for a representative of the English Church, though the Church had not strength to cast him out, but he sat in high ofSce within her. The waters clear as they flow on; much more then, when the primitive awe of the Church was so great, and her consciousness of the sacredness of her deposit so vivid, that = 1 Cor. 1, 10. e Conf. vi. §. 4, 5. pp. 89, 90. <1 Rom. 15, 6. f Conf. vii. §. 25. p. 128. PREFACE. xiii they who violated it, stood convicted as offenders and aliens, and " went away ashamed." And not only was the line thus distinctly drawn between the Church, and the heretical depravations of her doctrine, but, even within the bosom of the Church, Christian antiquity itself stamped the peculiar opinions, even of those whom in the main it honoured. We ourselves also, in that we speak familiarly of the harshness of Tertullian, the predestinarianism of St. Austin, Origen's speculativeness, Arnobius' deficient ac- quaintance with the Gospel he defended, are witnesses that there is a tangible distinction between Catholic truth and individual opinion. We discovered not these peculiarities for ourselves, nor that they were peculiarities; they were not dis- covered by any modems, nor was it by reference to any standard of our own, that we knew them to be such ; they came down to us in the stream, along with our knowledge of the writers themselves, and previous to any acquaintance of our own with them ; i. e. together with the doctrines, and opinions, which are known to have been held by the Fathers of the Christian Church, there were handed down to us certain criteria, whereby to judge of them. We have not received (as many now seem to think) a confused heap of opinions, expositions, doctrines, errors, which we are to unravel as we may, but a well-ordered body of truth, digested into its several compartments, and arranged, what was accepted, what unde- cided, what rejected, for those who wish to see. Those who will, may indeed dispute, whether Catholic truth be indeed truth, or whether it must not first be submitted to their own private judgment, to receive its stamp, and so be received, not on its own authority, but on theirs, not because it is in itself truth, but because it appears to a given individual to be such. But they who will, will have no difficulty in ascertaining what Catholic Truth is. It is plain, well-defined, uniform, con- sistent. Only we must not set up an estimate of that Truth for our- selves, and make that a criterion of it, or decide that those xiv PREFACE. things can be no portion of it, which are contrary to our own received notions. It may be, for instance, that systems of interpretation, which are now almost universally abandoned, are true, however foreign they may be to our notions, or though to us, as being foreign, they must at first needs seem fanciful. It is a vulgar and common-place prejudice, which would measure every thing by its own habits of mind, and condemn things as fanciful, to which itself is unaccustomed, simply because, confined and contracted by treading its own matter-of-fact round, it cannot expand itself to receive them, or has no power to assimilate them to its own previous notions, or adapt its own thought to them. It is the same habit, which would laugh at one who came from a foreign clime, in a garb to which a peasant-eye is unwonted. " He who laughs first," says Dr. Johnson, " is the barbarian." A deeper philosophy sees harmony, where the unobservant sees only discord. There is a deep unity in Creation, though the Manichseans could resolve its phsenomena, only upon the theory of two opposing princi- ples; and that unity is not the less there though he cannot see it. There is a deep unity also in the Primitive Church, God's new Creation, although to those who reject the clue, it may become an entangled labyrinth. It were absurd for the short- sighted and unpractised to deny the existence of what them- selves see not ; what one of practised sight sees, is there, . although such as have been inured all their lives to look on the surface of the ground close before them, see it not. The horses and chariots of fire were round about Elisha, although his servant saw them not, until, at the Prophet's prayer, " the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw" what the Seer had all along seen". The Angel of the Lord stood three times in the way to withstand Balaam, and the ass saw him, though the prophet saw not, but " smote the ass," who saved him firom being slain, until the Lord, who had " opened the mouth" of the " dumb ass, speaking with man's voice," to " forbid the madness of the prophet," " opened the eyes of = 2 Kings 6, 13—1?. PREFACE. XV Balaam, and he saw the Angel of the Lord standing in the way, and his sword drawn in his hand." The voice came really from the cloud, although they who had no ears to hear, " said that it thundered." Saul saw Him Whom he was persecuting, and heard His words, although they that were with him heard only an indistinct voice, and saw a light, but they " heard not His voice," and " saw no man^:" or though Festus thought him mad for attesting what he had seen. And not in cases only of extraordinary revelations, but as an universal rule, St. Paul says, " the carnal man cannot know the things of the Spirit of God, because they are spiritually discerned* ;" he does not simply turn away from them, but being or having become what he is, he cannot see them, because he has not the faculty whereby they are discerned. Nor is that prayer without meaning, " Open Thou mine eyes, that I may behold won- drous things out of Thy law'." It may be then that they who mock at the spiritual interpretations of the ancient Church, do so because themselves are carnal; and it is antecedently probable, because they do mock. At any rate, we must not decide in our own cause ; we may not be " our own witnesses." At the same time, in this as in other cases, a distinction must be made between the general principle, (in this instance, what would to most, as being unaccustomed to At, appear an extreme of spiritual interpretation,) and the particular appli- cations of it. The first is Catholic, the second may frequently be individual, although in the details also there is a Catholic system, and fragments of it may frequently be traced. The caution, however, of not confounding what is individual with what is Catholic, may be probably needed in the opposite way. The Fathers are indeed, absolutely, no terra incognita which we "have to explore, no sea, to which men are committed without a compass ; rather its bearings have been laid down, and its depths sounded, by our standard Anglo-Catholic divines ; and what remains to be filled up, is in detail only. * Acts 9, 7. 22, 9. comp. Dan. = 1 Cor. 2, 14. 10, 7. ^ Ps. 119, 18. xvi PREFACE. Still they are relatively unknown ; and it is to be expected that many mistakes might be made by ardent minds, throw- ing themselves at once into the rich and pleasant fields opened to them, if uncautioned. It may then be a necessary, though obvious, caution to the young, to beware of taking up at once, what may be no portion of Catholic Truth, although it occur in some particular Father, whom one with reason venerates, as also of exaggerating the importance of what may be new to any one, or of applying it, before he be sure that he have well grasped it. Catholic truth is indeed a broad, deep, clear, full, all-uniting tide, the unity of the world, which it pervades, penetrates, encompasses, holds together ; yet may it be easily disturbed, so that its face should no longer purely reflect that Heaven, which ordinarily rests and is mirrored on its deep waters. Precipitancy in embracing or refusing truth may alike injure its solid reception; but the former will, by its incongruities, cause the truth itself to be evil spoken of. It has been, in part with a view to anticipate such an abuse of the Fathers, that the selection now proposed has been rendered so varied ; no one Father is to be taken as our model, or rule ; for no one mind can embody within itself the whole of the Catholic Faith, in equal depth ; one brings out one portion, another, another, as to each was given ; one exhibits it in one form, another in another; (although each in har- mony with, and subordinate to, the " proportion of Faith,") and whoso accordingly should rest himself upon any one Father, and form himself on him, would risk taking what was peculiar to that Father, the especial hue and tinge which Catholic Truth received in his mind, rather than that full Truth itself^ We dare no longer say, with St. Cyprian of TertuUian, " Da Magistrum," since we are no longer prac- tically surrounded by that Catholic atmosphere, or imbued with that Catholic ^9o;, which should correct to us the ten- dency of such exclusive study. We may not be Augustinians, any more than Calvinists or Lutherans; for though St. Angus- PREFACE. xvii tine made no system, but transmitted Catholic Truth, unsys- tematized, and so unnarrowed, we might readily form a system out of St. Augustine, as indeed the effects of a too exclusive study of St. Augustine manifested themselves, though in unequal degrees, in the Jansenists, and Luther and Calvin ; the Jansenists retaining most of Catholic Truth, as uniting that study with no theories of their own, yet still in a degree narrowing it. Our Church, on the contrary, as it was originally of Greek origin, and then, from the later Augustine, had blended with it more of the character of the Western Church, so, in its reformation and its later divines, has it united for its model. East and West, the Fathers of all Churches, and formed its teaching upon all. And they who would under- stand and carry out her teaching, and teach in her spirit, must, as did our great Divines of the seventeenth century, do the like. But besides this, which is a more external caution, there are others even more necessary, as to the habits of mind of those who enter with affection upon this study, and to the end with which it is to be pursued. The end then is not discovery of new truth, for new truth there is none in the. Gospel; not any criticism of their own Church, this were irreverent and ungrateful ; not to see with their own eyes, for they will come to see with their own eyes, but not by making this their object; not to compare ancient and modem systems, and adopt the one or the other, or amalgamate both, taking of each what seems to them truth; this were to subject the truth of God, and the authority which He has placed over them, to their own private judgment; it is not criticism of any sort, no abstract result of any sort, nor even knowledge in itself, but to understand and appreciate better and realize more thoroughly the estate to which God has called them, as members of that Branch of the Church Catholic, into which they were baptized, and in which, perhaps, they have been, or look to be, made His Ministers. They are not, or are not to be, theorists in the Faith, but they are placed in a certain c xviii PREFACE. definite practical position, involving practical duties ; their business is not to speculate how things might have been otherwise, but to live up to what they are ; not to set them- selves above their own Church, but rather, if they must discover something, discover how many Catholic points there are in her, which they have not as yet tnown to be such, which they have not realized or filled up. This indeed is the great practical end of the study of the Fathers — not to prove any thing, not to satisfy ourselves of any thing, but to bring more vividly home to our own thoughts and, consciousness the rich treasures of doctrine and devotion, which our Church has from their days brought down for us. Our Creeds and the main part and centre of our Liturgy, being an inheritance from the same ages of which the Fathers were " burning and shining lights," must needs receive vividness and life, from being used in the light of those ages, of which they are some of the most precious relics. And whoso, after having imbibed, according to his measure, the spirit of the Fathers, and therewith indeed drunk in the Spirit, which was promised to and dwells in the Church, shall afterwards examine our Liturgy and Offices, our Homilies, Rubrics, nay our very Calendar or our ancient Ecclesiastical Institutions, will be astonished and awed to find by what memorials of primitive ages we are every where sur- rounded, and we " knew it not," and how we have, provided for our use, so soon as we have eyes to discern itjjust what people are now looking for, or feehng after. Catholic Antiquity, rightly and devotionally studied, is calculated to satisfy these cravings, to provide a haven for those weary of modern questionings, to fill up Christian belief to its full height and depth, where we (amid what we give out iox practical statements of it, because they are wwdoc- trinal) have often contented ourselves with a mere skeleton, to restore a deeper study of Scripture, a more faithful fulfilment of Scripture duty, a perception of Scripture duty and obliga- tion, where we now see none, and higher duties, where we PREFACE. xix see only lower, and the privilege of having higher duty, where we think chiefly of the privilege of our unrestrained state. So, by the blessing of Almighty God, may primitive practice and primitive piety flourish again and abound in our Apo- stolic Church ; and she, who unites within herself East and West, and has stretched out her arms and off'shoots into the four quarters of the world, and furnishes a sort of type of the Church Catholic, may realize to herself the treasures which she possesses, be a faithful medium of conveying Catholic Tmth wherever God has planted her, and avoid the penalty of planting " strange slips," which, not being "planted" by her Heavenly " Father, shall be rooted up," and " the harvest be a heap in the day of grief and sorrow incurable *^." The " Confessions" themselves have ever been a favourite Christian study. St. Augustine says of them himself, " The thirteen books of my Confessions praise God, Holy and Good, on occasion of that which has in me been good or evil, and raise up man's understanding and afiections to Him: for myself, they did so" while they were being written, and now do, when read. Let others think of them, as to them seems right; yet that they have and do much please many brethren, I know^." And again, " what of my smaller works could be more widely known or give greater pleasure than my Confes- sions''.'" He further states their object, Ep. ad Darium, Ep. 231. " Accept the books of my Confessions, which you wished for. There see me, and praise me not more than I deserve; there believe, not others about me, but myself; there mark me, and see what I was in myself, by myself; and if aught in me please thee, there praise with me, Whom, and not myself, I wished to be praised for me. For He ' made us, and not we ourselves;' but we had destroyed ourselves; and Who made, re-made us. But when you have then learnt what I am, pray for me, that I fall not away, but be perfected." f Is. 17, 11. •> De dono Perseverantise, c. 20, B Retract. 1. ii. c. 6. c 2 xx PREFACE. In modern times, they have been translated again and again into almost every European language, and in all loved. One may quote two sayings, prefixed to a French edition, and which bear evident marks of sincerity : " O how I wish the Confessions were familiar to all who hear me, that they would read and re-read them unceasingly. For there is no book in the world more capable to take away the human heart from the vain, passing, perishable things, which the world presents, and to cure self-love. I have known it but too late, and cease not to grieve thereat." Another says, " The Con- fessions of St. Augustine are, of all his works, that which is most filled with the fire of the love of God, and most cal- culated to kindle it in the heart; the most full of unction, and most capable to impart it; and where one best sees how faithfully and carefully this holy man recorded all the bless- ings which he had received from the mercy of God." The Confessions seemed also well calculated to commence this " Library," as bringing to our acquaintance, through his own reflections on his natural character and former self, one of the most remarkable men, whom God has raised up as a teacher in His Church. And, whatever we might beforehand expect, or whatever some may have imagined to themselves of early " corruptions of Christianity," the Fathers of this period, have more which is akin to the turn of mind of these later ages, than those of the earlier, St. Cyprian, perhaps, alone excepted. As, on the one hand, the remains of this period are larger, so also has the character of subsequent ages been far more influenced and more directly formed by them. Augustine, Chrysostom, Ambrose, Basil, Athanasius, Jerome, have left a much deeper impress, and moulded suc- ceeding periods in their own character far more than the Apostolic Fathers, Clement of Alexandria, Origen, or Ter- tullian. These acted upon, and the peculiarities of some were modified in, those who are to us intervening links, as Tertul- lian in St. Cyprian, Origen in St. Ambrose. And the later Fathers have in these cases preserved more especially what PREFACE. xxi is Catholic in their predecessors, free from that which belonged to their individual character. The influence of St. Augustine, especially, is very visible in Prosper of Aqui- taine, Gregory the Great, and, in conj unction with the latter and St. Jerome, in the Schoolmen , and so has, through the Reformers, descended to us and our Church. It is plain, for instance, that our Articles, in some cases, express Catholic truth through the medium of the language of St. Augustine. And it is remarkable, that a favourite work of modern times has borne the title of " Meditations of St. Augustine," and people have mistaken a compilation of an Abbot of Fescamp in France at the end of the twelfth century, for that of a great Father of the African Church in the fourth. So long has his light shone, and so many, in after ages, has it kindled. But this being the case, it seemed most natural to begin with those, by whom ourselves had been — if, in these last days, imperceptibly, yet — most directly formed, and through them to ascend to the former ages and the writers, who had guided them in the understanding of the common source of all knowledge, the Holy Scriptures. The subject of the Confessions would naturally give them a deep interest, presenting, as they do, an account of the way in which God led, perhaps the most powerful mind of Christian antiquity, out of darkness to light, and changed one, who was a chosen vessel unto Himself, from a heretic and a seducer of the brethren, into one of the most energetic defenders of Catholic Truth, both against the strange sect to which he had belonged, and against the Arians, Pelagians, and Semi- pelagians, Donatists, and Priscillianists. Such, not an autobio- graphy, is the object of the Confessions; a praise and confes- sion of God's unmerited goodness, but of himself only so much, as might illustrate out of what depth God's mercy had raised him. His proposed subject apparently was God's protection and guidance through all his infirmities and errors, to Baptism, wherein all his transgressions were blotted out ; that so others who were in the same state in which he had xxii PREFACE. been, might " not sleep in despair, and say, ' I cannot ' ;' " and, accordingly, his Confessions would close, according to his own view, at the end of the ninth book ; the only events, which he relates, subsequent to his conversion and baptism, being those connected with his mother's death, to whose prayers he had been given. It is evidently not without reluctance, that in the tenth book, in compliance with the importunity of some of the brethren, he enters at all into the subject, " what he then was" at the interval of ten years ; nor does he enter upon it, without much previous questioning, and lingers upon an enquiry into the nature of memory, which is only in part connected with his immediate question, "By what faculty he came to know God," and not at all with the subject proposed to him. He seems to have glided into it, on occasion of his praise of God, and then to have dwelt upon it, partly through that habit of exactness of mind, which leads him to examine every question thoroughly, partly, it should seem, as keeping him from a subject upon which he had no inclination to enter. When moreover he does come to it, he confines himself to such temptations as are common to all, and so would lead to remarks which would be useful to all, specially such as would increase vigilance, and omits altogether such as are peculiar to himself. Thus, of the trials, which beset his Episcopal office, love of praise is the only one which he mentions, and that, incidentally only as connected with that office. Meanwhile, his standard is mani- festly (as appears, indeed, throughout) a very high one; in that he felt vividly that account was to be given of all to God, and neither eyes nor ears, the purest of the senses, were to be allowed so to be distracted by temporal objects as to turn the mind from its habitual contemplation of eternal. His observations on " curiosity," here and elsewhere, would pro- bably open to most in modem times, a class of duties and dangers, of which they had little notion. Yet deeply as he had been acquainted with sin, previous to his conversion and i Conf. b. X. §. 4. PREFACE. xxiii baptism, and now with the experience of ten years of purity and duty, he felt it Christianly inexpedient to enter into details. The same reserve is still more observable at the beginning of the eleventh book. The question there had apparently occurred to him, whether he should mention by what means he was brought into Holy Orders : but after just alluding " to the exhortations, terrors, comforts, guidances of God" herein, he peremptorily cuts off the question, alleging that his time was " too precious to him ;" and, as is known, occupies the three remaining books of the Confessions, with the exposition of the history of the Creation, (in part with reference to Manichaean cavils,) and enquiries connected therewi.h. His remaining writings contain very little to supply this, and that little chiefly in an extorted vindication of himself and his clergy k. The same delicacy which dictated this selection of subjects, is observable also in the previous books of the Confessions ; here, indeed, the case was diflerent ; for this was the history of a former self, a self which had been washed away by the waters of Baptism, which was not the same self, and with which he had no more to do, except to praise God, that it was no longer he". In speaking of this self, which he was not, there were not the same grounds for reserve, as in the other ; yet here also, in one remarkable instance, which may serve as a specimen, he alludes to a heinous act, aggravated by having been committed in the house of God, and on which God entailed punishment, but he does not even give a hint of what nature that act was™. Although his subject is God's mercies to himself, himself is the subject which he least likes to dwell upon ; and most, probably, upon analyzing the Con- fessions, would be surprised to find the comparative paucity of - details, which they contain. For his principle being not to convey notices of himself, but to praise God on occasion of what bad happened to him or in him, he does not accumulate k See p. 225, 6. note a. ■» B. iii. c. 3. p. 31. 1 See p. 223, note at the end of book x. xxiT PREFACE. instances of his own wickedness, but rather singles out parti- cular acts as instances or specimens of a class, and as furnish- ing occasion to enquire into the nature of, or temptations to, such acts. The " Confessions" then rather contain a general sketch of his unconverted life, illustrated by some particular 'instances, than a regular biography. The details, on the other hand, which he gives as to his friend Alypius", remark- ably illustrate this absence of egotism, as does the brief sentence in which he relates his conversion, " Alypius, who always difiFered much from me for the better, without much turbulent delay, joined me"." This perhaps is it (next to the vivid account of his con- version, or \he beautiful history of the last days of his mother) which has given such an abiding interest to the Confessions. With extreme naturalness, (as one to whom absence of self had become nature,) he passes at once from the immediate subject or fact to the principles with which it is connected, thus giving instruction as to man, or rising to the reverent, though eloquent, or rather to the eloquent, because reverent, praise of God. Thus his youthful sin in robbing the pear tree gives the occasion of enquiring into the nature of sins, committed without apparent temptation'; the loss of his friend, into the nature and real cure of grief'; his dedication of an early work to one known by reputation only, into the interest we bear to persons so known'; the effect produced by the jollity of a drunken beggar, into the nature of joy" and the like ; yet on all occasions ending not in these inqui- ries, but naturally rising up to God, Who Alone can explain what is mysterious, satisfy our longings, restore what is defective, fill up what is void, or rather viewing every thing habitually in God's sight and in His light, and so, from time to time leading the reader more sensibly into His Presence, in which himself unceasingly lived and thought. » B.ti. c. 7—10. 1 B.iv. • B. viii. ult. ■■ B. iv. P B. ii. ■ B. yi. PREFACE. xxY The same reference to principles gives interest to his allusions, to the Manichseans, whom, as being at that time formidable to the unstable, though now a forgotten heresy, he never notices without furnishing opposite and corrective principles. The value of these continues, as lying at the root of the difficulty or temptation, which then gained proselytes to Manicheism ; the inward bane and antidote being the same in different ages, though Satan disguises his temptatipns dif- ferently according to the varying characters of ages, people, and climate. The principles upon which St. Augustine meets the Manichsean cavils against the Old Testament, may be of use in this day to a class which appears in a form out- wardly very different ; as may the observations, (founded in part upon his own experience,) on the effect of any one in- dulged error to prevent the reception of other truth. The last books are of a different character, being employed upon a subject wholly different, though with the same tacit reference to Manichsean errors and cavils ; this being a part of the practical character of St. Augustine's mind, continually to bear in mind the heresies by which his hearers were liable to be entangled, and, not in a formal way, but in a word or the turn of an expression, to convey the corrective. By those who have been chiefly interested in the former part as biography, these have been generally passed over ; and to persons un- accustomed to abstract thought, the discussions on the nature of time will be little attractive, nor may it altogether be desirable for one, averse to typical interpretation, and who has read Holy Scripture hitherto with modem eyes only, at once to plunge into an exposition, which necessarily exhibits the system of the ancient Church in so condensed and strong a light. Yet to others, both may be of great use ; the abstract discussionSj in that they shew how St. Augustine's acute and philosophic mind saw things to be difficulties, which people now-a-days think that they understand, because tbey know certain rules, to which they have been subjected ; that, because they can refer them to a certain class of objects, therefore they xxvi PREFACE. understand the things themselves, and their common prin- ciple, (as, because people can refer the tides or the solar system, &c. to a principle of gravitation, that therefore they understand what is the principle of gravitation, or why bodies should possess this principle of attraction,) or because the things themselves are plain and common things, and open to observation, that therefore the hidden sources are plain and open ; or because they are regular and men know the rules, that therefore they know upon what the rule is founded. In this age then of experimental and physical science, these dis- cussions may be eminently useful, because by accumulating facts we are hiding from ourselves our ignorance of prin- ciples, and employing our knowledge as food for vanity, instead of a ground of humility; all knowledge having two sides, and each accession of knowledge discovering to us not only something new, which we may know, but something also which we cannot know, just as our chemical analysis, as far as it has yet been carried, has at one and the same time shewn that the elements are not elements, and that there are many more elements than before; i. e. the further we carry our researches, and the more we explain, the more are things multiplied upon us which we cannot resolve or explain. Our age, however, has contrived to fix its attention on the one side, the things discovered, and thus, practically to persuade itself that it is making progress towards discovering all which is discoverable ; whereas these are infinite; and so, discoveries, which may be numbered, can bear no ratio to them ; and on the other hand, we are multiplying to ourselves the things undiscoverable. To this habit of mind, it may be beneficial to see how St. Augustine toiled in discovering what to many, and to himself in a popular way, would seem so plain, as " what is time ;" nor less interesting are his results, that it has no existence of which we can take account, except in the human mind, and that it has no relation whatever to eternity ; eternity being no extension of time, and time being but a creature of God, an incident only in eternity, which once was not, as it PREFACE. xxvii shall once cease to be. Not that any thing would be by this explained, but that it would appear that questions, which the human mind is fond of raising, upon the supposition that eternity is but lengthened time, are inexplicable, — that it has not the data, upon which even to form them. But these results are not the only reward of the study ; for in the midst of investigations, abstract and to many dry, will occur those golden sayings, which may at once shew how his mind, amid every thing, burst upward towards his God, and may teach how things abstract may be studied devotionally. So also, amid the interpretations of Holy Scripture, even those, to whom the analogy between the spiritual and moral creation is less apparent than it was to the Fathers of the Church, may still find what will be instructive to them, (e. g. the distinction between " fruit" and a " gift',") as may the interpretations themselves be, if, without attempting to force themselves to receive what at first goes against them, they do not yet, on its account, reject what even to them may seem probable or natural, but, receiving this, are content to remain in suspense and undecided as to any further points to which they cannot yet familiarize themselves, until they become more acquainted with these also, and have seen them presented from different points of view, and associated and harmonizing with others. For these interpretations are but fragments of a gigantic system, with which we have been too little acquainted, and of whose symmetry and mutual harmony we can form no notion from a first view of a detached portion. This willing- ness to remain in suspense for a time, receiving what seems to be true, even though it involve apparently the truth of other things which we cannot see, is a most important habit of mind, a valuable corrective of the impatience of the present day, and often the condition of our attaining to the truth at all. A pious mind cannot be wanting in real delicacy, and, on this ground also, as well as from the indications of refinement ' B. xiii. §. 39—42. xxviii PREFACE. of mind, above pointed out, it will readily be anticipated, that so devotional a mind as St. Augustine's, would not be wanting in delicacy in alluding to the worst sins of his unregenerate state. And so it in fact is ; he specifies only two periods of sin, sin, which, alas! under a softened name, is familiarly spoken of, by those who would be esteemed refined and " deli- cate women." St. Augustine, on the contrary, uses strong terms; he speaks of his sin in language which will be plain to those, who, in Heathen antiquity, have been accustomed to the like, but which is there made subservient to sin and vanity. But to those, who, themselves pure, have skimmed lightly over these subjects in Heathen antiquity or Christian heathenism, these passages will convey no notion, except that he was guilty of sin, which to himself afterwards was disgusting and revolting. These two periods of sin alluded to he is compelled to speak of, not merely as sources of sorrow and degradation, but as the chief impediments to his conversion, the latter, also, as a proof of his own exceeding weakness and slavery to sin, in that, though separated from his former mistress, apd with the prospect of marriage after two years, he still relapsed into his former habits, and took to him a new concubine. There is then no gratuitous mention of sin ; nor will any one here learn any thing of sin ; and while modem descriptions of penitence, veiled in language, are calculated to produce an unhealthy excitement, and may rather prepare people to imitate the sin, with the hope that they may afterwards imitate the repentance, St. Augustine, in unveiled language, creates the loathing which himself felt at the sin. Moderns have an outward purity of language ; the ancient Church, with the Bible, a fearless plainness of speech which belongs to inward purity. This has been here and there modified in the translation, in consequence of our present condition ; yet it must be, with the protest, that the purity of modem times is not the purity of the Gospel ; it is the purity of those who know and have delighted in evil as well as good ; it is often the hypocritical purity, which would willingly dwell upon PREFACE. xxix " things which ought not to be named," so that it does but not name them : it is a veiled impurity ; and, what is in itself pure and speaks purely of things impure, it associates with its own impurity and calls impure, because itself thinks impurely. And so the very Bible has become to them, what they call " improper," i. e. " unbefitting them," verifying herein the awfiil Apostolic saying, " unto the pure all things are pure; but unto them that are defiled and unbelieving is nothing pure; but even their mind and conscience is defiled"." Thus much must be said, because it is easy to foresee that an age of spurious delicacy, i. e. of real indelicacy, will raise charges of indelicacy against passages in the Fathers, (as it does, though in a lower murmuring tone, against the Bible,) when the fault is in itself. And would that there were not occasion for the warnings of St. Augustine, and that many in Christian England did not imitate the unbaptized Cartha- ginians, or require his earnest language against being ashamed of being innocent". For it must never be lost sight of, in reference to this whole story of St. Augustine, that he himself was, during the whole period, not a Christian, for he was not baptized ; his mother had been given in marriage to one, who was alto- gether a heathen, until long after Augustine's birth, (for in his sixteenth year his father was but recently a Catechumen, b. ii. §. 6.) and, as a heathen, lived in heathenish sin; and himself, although in infancy made a Catechumen, had fallen into a sect, which could in no way be called Christian. Christianity, as now in India, was then every where sur- rounded by Heathenism, which it was gradually leavening, and there was consequently a mixed race, born of inter- marriages with the heathen, or of parents who had not made up their minds to become wholly Christians, (like the " mixed multitude," which went up with Israel out of Egypt',) and who were in a sort of twilight state, seeing Christianity but " Tit. 1, 15. 1 Ex. 12, 38. Num. 11, 4. * See p. 22. XXX PREFACE. very imperfectly, although the grossness of their own darkness was much mitigated. This should be borne in mind, lest any should think that St. Augustine's descriptions of himself and his comrades furnish any representation of the then state of the Christian Church, and that consequently it even then partook of the state of degradation, in which it is at this day. It also accounts for St. Augustine's mode of speaking of his past sins in terms of strong condemnation, yet, personally, of unconcern ; as shocking and loathsome in themselves, but as what he had no more to do with, in that he had condemned them, and they had been washed away by Baptism'. It now remains only to add a few words upon this and former translations of the Confessions. Into our own language they have been three times translated in whole or in part. The first was by a Romanist, T. M. (Sir Tobias Matthews,) 1624. The object of this was, apparently, to make the Confessions (by aid of notes) to subserve the cause of Romanism. It was also very inaccurately done'; many of the errors were pointed out in the second translation by Rev. W. Watts, D.D. 1650. This, however, which frequently retained the former translation, retained also a good many faults ; and, with some energy, it had many vulgarisms, so that, though it was adopted as the basis of the present, the work has in fact been retranslated. The third was a translation of the biographical portions only, with a continuation from Possidius and notices of St. Augus- tine's life derived from his own writings by Abr. Woodhead of University College, " a most pious, learned, and retired person''." The former translation was used as its basis, but it is more diffuse. Copious extracts of the Confessions have also been given in Milner's Church History. The former translations, however, were become scarce; and the work seemed no inappropriate commencement of the translations * Comp. his frequent reference to his its hadness, is given in the Biogr, Brit., Baptism, B. i. c. 11. B. ii. u. 7. B. v. with some account of the author. §, 15, 16. B. vi. c. 13. b See Ath. Ox. t. ii. p. 456. » A saying of the time, indicative of PREFACE. XXXI from St. Augustine, in that it gives the main outlines of the first thirty-four years of his life, until a little after his conver- sion and baptism. It has been the object of the present translation to leave the Confessions to tell their own tale ; a few of the notes of the former edition have been retained, which seemed to con- vey useful information; most have been omitted, as being employed in censuring the translation or notes of his pre- decessor, and that often in undesirable language. The present translation has been illustrated with notes, beyond what was contemplated for this undertaking generally, partly on account of the miscellaneous character of the work, in that it contained allusions to many things, which had been spoken of more expressly elsewhere ; partly as being the first work of this remarkable man, made accessible to ordinary readers ; partly also because tliis plan of illustrating St. Augustine out of himself, had been already adopted by M. Dubois in his Latin edition, though not in his translation, of the Confessions (Paris 1 776) ; and it seemed a pity not to use valuable materials ready collected to one's hand. The far greater part of these illustrations are taken from that edition. Reference has, of course, been every where made to the context in the original work. With regard to the principles of translation, the object of all translation must be to present the ideas of the author as clearly as may be, with as little sacrifice as may be of what is peculiar to him; the greatest clearness with the greatest faith- ftdness. The combination or due adjustment of these two is a work of no slight difficulty, since in that re-production, which is essential to good translation, it is very difiicult to avoid introducing some slight shade of meaning, which may not be contained in the original. The very variation in the collo- cation of words may produce this. In the present work the translator desired both to preserve as much as possible the condensed style of St. Augustine, and to make the translation as little as might be of a commentary; that so the reader xxxii PREFACE. might be put, as far as possible, in the position of a student of the Fathers, unmodified and undiluted by the intervention of any foreign notions. The circumstances of the times, moreover, render even a somewhat rigid adherence to the original, (even though purchased by some stiffness,) the safer side, as it is that which most recommended itself to the translator. This common object of a strict faithfulness, must, of course, in a variety of hands, be attained in different degrees ; and different ways will be taken to obtain the same result. If, in parts of the present work, a more rigid style has been adopted, than will perhaps generally occur in this " Library," it was still hoped, that the additional pains, which might be requisite to imderstand it, would be rewarded by the greater insight into the author's uncommented meaning which that very pains would procure, and by the greater impression made by what has required some thought to understand; and it was an object to let St. Augustine speak as much as possible for himself, without bringing out by the translation, truths which he wrapped up in the words, for those who wish to find them. With the same view, the plan adopted by the Benedictine editors and others, of marking out for observation the golden sayings, with which the Confessions abound, has not been followed ; it was thought that they would be read better in the context; that they would be even more impressive, if attention were not called to them, but rather left to be called out hy them, by being read, as St. Au- gustine himself thought them, and as they arose j for florilegia do not make the impression, which is expected from them ; the mind is put in an unnatural position by being called upon to admire, from without, rather than from within. But chiefly, holy and solemn thoughts are not to be exhibited for admiration, like a gallery of pictures, which the eyes wander over, but whereby the heart is distracted and unsatisfied • rather they are to be gazed at, and to be copied ; and they shine most brightly, when most naturally, amid the relief of thoughts on ordinary subjects, which they illumine. So also PREFACE. xxxiii may we be taught how to sanctify things common, by first sanctifying the vessel, wherein they are received, our own hearts ; which, as it has been for fourteen centuries the fruit of this work of St. Augusifine in our Western Church, so may it, by His mercy, again in this our portion of it. E. B. P. Oxford, Feast of St. Bartholomew, 1838. CONTENTS. THE FIRST BOOK. Confessions of the greatness and unseaichableness of God, of God's mercies in infancy and boyhood, and human wilfulness ; of his own sins of idleness, abuse of his studies, and of God's gifts up to his fifteenth year. page 1 THE SECOND BOOK. Object of these Confessions. Further ills of idleness developed in his sixteenth year. Evils of ill society, which beti-ayed him into theft. 19 THE THIRD BOOK. His residence at Carthage from his seventeenth to his nineteenth year. Source of his disorders. Love of shows. Advance in studies, and love of wisdom. Distaste for Scripture. Led astray to the Mani- chseans. Refutation of some of their tenets. Grief of his mother Monnica at his heresy, and prayers for his conversion. Her vision from God, and answer through a Bishop. 29 THE FOURTH BOOK. Aug.'s life from nineteen to eight and twenty ; himself a Manichsean, and seducing others to the same heresy ; partial obedience amidst vanity and sin ; consulting astrologers, only partially shaken herein ; loss of an early friend, who is converted by being baptized when in a swoon; i-eflections 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. 45 d XXXIV CONTENTS. THE FIFTH BOOK. S. Aug.'s twenty-ninth year. Faustus, a snare of Satan to many, made an instrument of deliverance to S. Aug., by shewing the ignorance of the Manichees on those things, wherein they professed to have divine knowledge. Aug. gives up all thought of going further among the Manichees : is guided to Rome and Milan, where he hears S. Ambrose, leaves the Manichees, and becomes again a Catechumen in the Church Catholic. 65 THE SIXTH BOOK. Arrival of Monnica at Milan; her obedience to S. Ambrose, and his value for her ; S. Ambrose's habits ; Aug.'s gradual abandonment of error ; finds that he has blamed the Church Catholic wrongly ; desire of absolute certainty, but struck with the contrary analogy of God's natural Providence; how shaken in his worldly pursuits; God's guidance of his friend Alypius ; Aug. debates with himself and his friends about their mode of life ; his inveterate sins, and dread of judgment. 85 THE SEVENTH BOOK. Aug.'s thirty-first year ; gradually extricated from his errors, but still with material conceptions of God; much aided by an argument of Nebridius ; sees that the cause of sin lies in free-will, rejects the Mani- chaean 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 tire Platonists the seeds of the doctrine of the Divinity of the Word, but not of His humiliation; hence he obtains clearer notions of God's majesty, but, not knowing Christ to be the Mediator, remains estranged from Him ; all his doubts removed by the study of Holy Scripture, especially S. Paul. 107 THE EIGHTH BOOK. Aug.'s thirty-second year. He consults Simplicianus ; from him hears the history of the conversion of Victorinus, afid longs to devote himself entirely to God, but is mastered by his old habits; is still further roused by the history of S. Antony, and of the conversion of two courtiers; during a severe struggle, hears a voice from heaven, opens Scripture, and is converted, with his friend Alypius. His mother's visions fulfilled. I33 CONTENTS. XXXT THE NINTH BOOK. Aug. determines to devote his life to God, and to abandon his profession of Rhetoric, quietly however ; retires to the country to prepare himself to receive the grace of Baptism, and is baptized with Alypius, and his son Adeodatus. At Ostia, in his way to Africa, his mother Monnica dies, in her fifty-sixth year, the thirty-third of Augustine. Her life and character. 155 THE TENTH BOOK. Having in the former books spoken of himself before his receiving the grace of Baptism, in this Aug. confesses what he then was. But first, he enquires by what faculty we can know God at all ; whence he enlarges on the mysterious character of the memory, wherein God, being made known, dwells, but which could not discover Him. Then he examines his own trials under the triple division of temptation, " lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes, and pride;" what Christian continency pre- scribes as to each. On Christ the Only Mediator, who heals and will heal all infirmities. 182 THE ELEVENTH BOOK. Aug. breaks off the history of the mode whereby God led him to holy Orders, in order to " confess" God's mercies in opening to him the Scripture. Moses is not to be understood, but in Christ, not even the first words 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 V Inquiry into the nature of Time. 225 THE TWELFTH BOOK. Aug. proceeds to comment on Gen. 1,1. and explains the " heaven" to mean that spiritual and incorporeal creation, which cleaves to God unintermittingly, always beholding His countenance ; " earth," the .formless matter whereof the corporeal creation was afterwards formed. He does not reject, however, other interpretations, which he adduces, but rather confesses that such is the depth of Holy Scripture, that manifold senses may and ought to be extracted from it, and that whatever truth can be obtained from his words, does, in fact, lie con- cealed in them. 249 XXXVl CONTENTS. THE THIRTEENTH BOOK. Continuation of the exposition of Gen. 1 ; it contains the mystery of the Trinity, and a type of the formation, extension, and support of the Church. 276 THE CONFESSIONS OF S. AUGUSTINE, BISHOP OF HIPPO. IN THIRTEEN BOOKS. BOOK I. Confessions of the greatness and unsearchableness of God, of God's mercies in infancy and boyhood, and human wilfulness ; of his own sins of idle- ness, abuse of his studies, and of God's gifts up to his fifteenth year. [I.] 1. Great art Thou, O Lord, and greatly to be praised; f^' 145, great is Thy power, and Thy wisdom infinite. And Thee 5'. would man praise ; man, but a particle of Thy creation ; man, that bears about him his mortality, the witness of his sin, the witness, that Thou, O God, resistest the proud: yet jas.4,6. 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, until it repose in Thee*. Grant me. Lord, to know and understand which is first, to call on Thee or to praise Thee ? and, again, to know Thee or to call on Thee.? For who can call on Thee, not knowing Thee ? For he that knoweth Thee not, may call on Thee as other than Thou art. Or, is it rather, that we call on Thee that we may know Thee .? But how shall they call on Him in Rom.io. whom they have not believed? or how shall they believe^*- without a preacher? And they that seek the Lord shall Ps. 22, praise Him. For they that seek shall find Him, and they^^- that find shall praise Him. I will seek Thee, Lord, by calling 7/ ' ' on Thee ; and will call on Thee, believing in Thee ; for to us hast Thou been preached. My faith. 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 caU for Him, I shall be calling Him into 2 " Our rational nature ia so great a 1> S. Ambrose ; from whom were the good, that there is no good wherein we beginnings of his conversion, and bj- can he happy, save God." Aug. de Nat. whom he was baptized. Boni, c. 7. 2 Difficulties in conceiving of God. CONF.myself^? and what room is there within me, whither my God — '—^ can come into me ? Whither can God come into me, God who made heaven and earth ? Is there, indeed, O Lord my God, aught in me that can contain Thee ? Do then heaven and earth, which Thou hast made, and wherein Thou hast made me, contain Thee ? or, because nothing which exists could exist without Thee, doth therefore whatever exists contain Thee? Since, then, I too exist, why do I seek that Thou shouldest enter into me, who were not, wert Thou not in me ? Why? Because I am not gone down in hell, and yet Thou Ps. 139, art there also. For if I go down into hell, Thou art there. I could not be then, O my God, could not be at all, wert Bom. Thou not in me ; or, rather, unless I were in Thee, qf whom ' ■ are all things, by whom are all things, in whom are all things ? Even so. Lord, even so. Whither do I call Thee, since I am in Thee ? or whence canst Thou enter into me ? For whither can I go beyond heaven and earth, that thence my God Jer. 23, should come into me, who hath said, / fill the heaven and ^*- the earth ? [III.] 3. Do"^ the heaven and earth then contain Thee, since Thou fiUest them ? or dost Thou fill them and yet overflow, since they do not contain Thee ? And whither, when the heaven and the earth are filled, pourest Thou forth the remainder of Thyself? Or hast Thou no need that aught contain Thee, who containest all things, since what Thou fillest Thou fillest by containing it? For the vessels which Thou fillest uphold Thee not, since, though they were broken, TTiou wert not Acts 2, poured out. And when Thou axt poured out on us. Thou art not cast down, but Thou upliftest us ; Thou art not dissipated, but Thou gatherest us. But Thou who fillest all things, fillest Thou them with Thy whole self? or, since all things cannot contain Thee wholly, do they contain part of Thee ? and all at once the same part? or each its own part, the greater more, the smaller less? And is, then, one part of Thee greater, another less ? or, art Thou wholly every where, while nothing contains Thee wholly ? [IV.] 4. What art Thou then, my God ? What, but the Pa. 18, Lord God? For who is Lord but the Lord? or who is God 31. ^ " Thou oalleist on, whatever thou thee." Aug. in Pb. 85. Invest ; thou cailest on, whatever thou ■= Against the Manichees. See 1. vii. eallest[invitest]intothyself; thou callest c. 1. §. 2. on, whatever thou wishest to come unto God's attributes to men contradictory. 3 save our Ood? Most highest, most good, most potent, most omnipotent; most merciful, yet most just; most hidden, yet most present; most beautiful, yet most strong; stable, yet incomprehensible ; unchangeable, yet all-changing ; never new, never old; all-renewing, and bringing age upon thejoh9, proud'', and they know it not; ever working, ever^t rest; still ^J^^ gathering, yet nothing lacking ; supporting, filling, and over- spreading; creating, nourishing, and maturing; seeking, yet having all things. Thou lovest, without passion; art jealous, without anxiety ; repentest, yet grievest not ; art angry, yet serene ; changest Thy works. Thy purpose unchanged ; re- ceivest again what Thou findest, yet didst never lose ; never in need, yet rejoicing in gains ; never covetous, yet exacting Matt, usury. Thou receivest over and above, that Thou mayest^*' ^1 owe; and who hath aught that is not Thine? Thou payestrogatur debts, owing nothing ; remittest debts, losing nothing. And what have I now said, my God, my life, my holy joy ? or what saith any man when he speaks of Thee ? Yet woe to him that speaketh not, since mute are even the most eloquent. [V.] 5. Oh ! that I might repose on Thee ! Oh ! that Thou wouldest enter into my heart, and inebriate it, that I may forget my ills, and embrace Thee, my sole good ! What art Thou to me i In Thy pity, teach me to utter it. Or what am I to Thee that Thou demandest my love, and, if I give it not, art wroth with me, and threatenest me with grievous woes ? Is it then a slight woe to love Thee not? Oh! for Thy mercies' sake, tell me, O Lord my God, what Thou art unto me. Say unto my soul, I am thy salvation. So speak, thatPs-35,3. I may hear. Behold, Lord, my heart is before Thee ; open Thou the ears thereof, and say unto my soul, I am thy salva- tion. After this voice let me haste, and take hold on Thee. Hide not Thy face from me. Let me die" — lest I die — only let me see Thy face. 6. Narrow is the mansion of my soul ; enlarge Thou it, that Thou mayest enter in. It is ruinous ; repair Thou it. It has that within which must offend Thine eyes; I confess and know it. But who shall cleanse it ? or to whom should I '' " Everyman, who foUoweth his own ' i. e. Let me see the face of God, spirit, is proud." Aug. in Ps. 141. 4. though I die, (Ex. 33, 20.) since if I " When the soul delighteth in itself, it see it not, but it be turned away, I is proud; making itself the chief object, must needs die, and that " the second which God is." Id. Ep, 55. §. 18. death." B 2 4 Qod's mercies in infancy. coNF.cry, save Thee ? Lord, cleanse me from my secret faults, and ^•^- spare Thy servant from the power of the enemy". T believe, 12.11: and therefore da I speak. Lord, Thou knowest. Have I P'- ^^^' not confessed against my self my transgressions unto Thee, and Ps.32,5. Thou, my God, hast forgiven the iniquity of my heart ? I Job 9. 3. contend ncM in judgment with Thee, who art the truth ; I fear Ps. 26, to deceive myself; lest mine iniquity lie unto itself. There- ip^-Yg'f-fore I contend not in judgment with Thee; for if Thou, 3.'' ' Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, Lord, who shall abide it ? [VI.] 7. Yet suffer me to speak unto Thy mercy, me, dust and Gen.i8. ashes. Yet suffer me *o speak, since I speak to Thy mercy, ^■'- and not to scornful man. Thou too, perhaps, despisest me, Jer. 12, yet wilt Thou return a'u FT ave compassion upon me. For what *^- would I say, Lord my C?od, 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. Thus there received me the comforts of woman's milk. For neither my mother nor my nurses stored their own breasts for me ; but Thou didst bestow the food of my infancy through them, according to Thine ordinance, whereby Thou distributest Thy riches through the hidden springs of all things. Thou also gavest me to desire no more than Thou gavest ; and to my nurses willingly to give me what Thou gavest them. For they, with an heaven-taught affection, willingly gave me, what they abounded with from Thee. For this my good from them, was good for them. Nor, indeed, from them was it, but through them ; for from Thee, O God, are all good things, zxiAfrom my Ood is all my health. This I since learned, Thou, through these Thy gifts, within me and without, proclaiming 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 waking : <1 So the Greek Versions and Vulg. one from one's self, the other from the rendering Dnt as CSnt, as it else- persuasion ofothers; to which the prophet where signiiies " the proud," not" proud refers, I suppose, whenhesays, ' Cleanse presumptuous sins." They interpret it me from my secret faults, and ah alienis of sins forced on a person by the ^P^re Thy servant.' " S. Aug. de Lib. Ettemy. " There are two sources of sins ; ^^^- '■ '"• e. 10. Wilfulness qf infancy. 5 for so it was told me of myself, and I believed it ; for we see the like ia other infants, though of myself I remember it not. Thus, little by little, I became conscious where 1 was ; and to have a wish to express my wishes to those who could content them, and I could not j for the wishes were within me, and they without ; nor could they by any sense of theirs enter within my spirit. 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 indignan,^ with my elders for not submitting to me, with those ov'ng me no service, for not serving me ; and avenged mysel py ;|hem by tears. Such have I learnt infants to be from observing them ; and, that I was myself such, they, all unconscious, have shewn 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 foimdation of the worlds, and before all that can be called " before," Thou art, and art God and Lord of all which Thou hast created: in Thee abide, fixed for ever, the first causes of all things unabiding ; and of all things change- able, the springs abide in Thee unchangeable : and in Thee live the eternal reasons of all things unreasoning and tem- poral. Say, Lord, to me. Thy suppliant ; say. All-pitying, to me. Thy pitiable one ; say, did my infancy succeed another age of mine that died before it? Was it that which I spent within my mother's womb ? for of that I have heard somewhat, and have myself seen women with child ? and what before that life again, O God my joy, was I any where or any body? For this have I none to tell me, neither father nor mother, nor experience of others, nor mine own memory. Dost Thou mock me for asking this, and bid me praise Thee and acknow- ledge Thee, for that I do know ? 10. I acknowledge Thee, 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 firom others guess much as to himself; and believe much on the strength of weak females. Even then I had being and life, and (at my infancy's close) I could seek for signs, whereby to make known to others my sensations. 6 Siiifulness in infants without actual sin. CONF. Whence could such a being be, save from Thee, Lord ? Shall — 1— ^ 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 one ? for Mai. 3, Thou Thyself art supremely Essence and Life. For Thou art most high, and art not changed, neither in Thee doth To-day come to a close ; yet in Thee doth it come to a close ; because all such things also are in Thee. For they had no way to pass away, unless Thou upheldest them. And since Ps. 102, Thy years fail not. Thy years are one To-day. How many of ours and our fathers' years have flowed away through Thy ' to-day,' and from it received the measure and the mould of such being as they had ; and still others shall flow away, Ibid, and so receive the mould of their degree of being. But Thou art still the same, and all things of to-morrow, and all beyond, and all of yesterday, and all behind it. Thou wilt do in this To-day, Thou hast done in this To-day. What is it to me, though any comprehend not this ? Let him also rejoice and say, Ex.16, What thing is this? Let him rejoice even thus; and be content rather by not discovering to discover Thee, than by discovering not to discover Thee. [VII.] 1 1 . Hear, O God. Alas, for man's sin ! So saith man, and Thou pitiest him ; for Thou madest him, but sin in him Thou madest not. Who remindeth me of the sins of my Job 25, infancy ? for in Thy sight none is pure from sin, not even the *• infant whose life is hut a day upon the earth. Who remindeth me? Doth not each little infant, in whom I see what of myself I remember not \ What then was my sin ? Was it that I hung upon the breast and cried ? For should I now so do for food suitable to my age, justly should I be laughed at and reproved. What 1 then did was worthy reproof; but since I could not understand reproof, custom and reason forbade me to be reproved. For those habits, when grown, we root out and cast away. Now no man, though he John 15, prunes, wittingly casts away what is good. Or was it then good, even for a while, to cry for what, if given, would <• " Let us thus conceive of God, if without change in Himself, forming we can, as far as we can, — good, things subject to change, and liable to without quality; great, without size; no evil. Whoso thus thinks of God, Creator, with no need ; presiding, with- although he cannot yet find out what out site; contriving all things, without God is, yet, as far as he may, piously relation thereto; wholly every where, avoids thinking any thing of Him, which without place; Eternal, without time; He is not," Aug. de Trin. v. 1. Irifant malice and God's goodness. 7 hui't? bitterly to resent, that persons free, and its own elders, yea, the very authors of its birth, served it not? that many besides, wiser than it, obeyed not the nod of its good pleasure ? to do its best to stride 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 extremest need, and whose very life as yet depends thereon ? We bear gently with all this, not as being no or slight evils, but because they will disappear as years increase; for, though tolerated now, the very same tempers are utterly intolerable when found in riper years. 12. Thou, then, O Lord my God, who gavest life to this my infancy, furnishing thus with senses (as we see) the frame Thou gavest, compacting its limbs, ornamenting its propor- tions, and, for its general good and safety, implanting in it all vital functions, Thou commandest me to praise Thee in these things, to confess unto Thee, and sing unto Thy name, Ps.92,l Thou most Highest. For Thou art God, Almighty and Good, even hadst Thou done nought but only this, which none could do but Thou : whose Unity is the mould of all things ; who out of Thy own fairness makest all things fair; and orderest all things by Thy law. This age then, Lord, whereof I have no remembrance, which I take on others' word, and guess from other infants that I have passed, true though the guess be, I am yet loth to count in this life of mine which I live in this world. For no less than that which I spent in my mother's womb, is it hid from me in the shadows of forgetfulness. But if I was shapenin iniquity, and in sin c^Jc^Ps.51,7. my mother conceive me, where, I beseech Thee, O my God, where, Lord, or when, was I Thy servant guiltless ? But, lo ! that period I pass by ; and what have I now to do with that, of which I can recal no vestige ? [VIII.] 13. Passing hence from infancy, I came to boyhood, or ratheritcame to me, displacing infancy. Nor did that depart, - — (for whither went it ?) — and yet it was no more. For I was no 8 Learning to speak — boyish prayer. CONF. longer a speechless infant, Ijut a speaking boy. This I re- — '—^ member ; and have since observed how I learned to speak. It was not that my elders taught me words (as, soon after, other learning) in any set method ; but I, longing by cries and broken accents and various motions of mj' limbs to express my thoughts, that so I might have my will, and yet unable to express all I willed, or to whom I willed, did myself, by the understanding which Thou, my God, gavest me, practise the sounds in my memory. When they named any thing, and as they spoke turned towards it, I saw and remembered that they called what they would point out, by the name they uttered. And that they meant this thing and no other, was plain 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, indi- cating the affections of the mind, as it pursues, possesses, rejects, or shuns. And thus by constantly hearing words, as they occurred in various sentences, I collected gradually fdr 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 mockeries did I now experience, when obedience to my teachers was pro- posed to me, as proper in a boy, in order that in this world I might prosper, and excel in tongue-science, which should serve to the " praise of men," and to deceitful riches. Next I was put to school to get learning, in which I (poor wretch) knew not what use there was ; and yet, if idle in learning, I was beaten. For this was judged right by our forefathers; and many, passing the same course before us, framed for us weary paths, through which we were fain to pass ; multiply- ing toil and grief upon the sons of Adam. But, Lord, we found that men called upon Thee, and we learnt from them to think of Thee (according to our powers) as of some great One, who, though hidden from our senses, couldst hear and help us. For so I began, as a boy, to pray to Thee, my aid and refuge ; and broke the fetters of my tongue to call on Thee, praying Thee, though small, yet with no small earnest- ness, that I might not be beaten at school. And when Thou Childish griefs great to children. Inconsistency to them. 9 heardest me not, [not thereby giving me over to folly*,) my Ps.21,3. elders, yea, my very parents, who yet wished me no ill,^"'^' mocked my stripes, my then great and grievous ill. 15. Is there, Lord, any of soul so great, and cleaving to Thee with so intense affection, (for a sort of stupidity will in a way do it) ; but is there any one, who, from cleaving de- voutly to Thee, is endued with so great a spirit, that he can think as lightly of the racks and hooks and other torments, (against which, throughout all lands, men call on Thee with extreme dread,) mocking at those by whom they are feared most bitterly, as our parents mocked the torments which we suffered in boyhood from our masters ? For we feared not our torments less ; nor prayed we less to Thee to escape them. And yet we sinned, in writing or reading or studying less than wass exacted of us. For we wanted not, O Lord, memory or capacity, whereof Thy will gave enough for oiu* age ; but our sole delight was play; and for this we were punished by those who yet themselves were doing the like. But elder folks' idleness is called " business ;" that of boys, being really the same, is punished by those elders ; and none commise- rates either boys or men. For will any of sound discretion approve of my being beaten as a boy, because, by playing at ball, I made less progress in studies which I was to learn, only that, as a man, I might play more unbeseemingly ? And what else did he, who beat me ? who, if worsted in some trifling discussion with his fellow-tutor, was more embittered and jealous than I, when beaten at ball by a play-fellow? [X.] 16. And yet, I sinned herein, O Lord God, the Creator and Orderer " of all things in nature, of sin the Orderer only, O <• " Many cry in troul^le and are not nified sin." In Ps. 7. t. fin. " God, heard ; but to their salvation, not (to as He is of good natures the All-good give them) to foolishness. Paul cried, Creator, so of evil wills the All-just that the thorn in the flesh might he Orderer." De Civ. Dei, ii. 17. " Light taken from him, and he was not heard alone was approved by the Creator ; the that it should be so taken ; and it was darkness of the [evil] angels, although said to him, My grace is \sufficient for to be ordered, was not therefore to be thee; My strength is made perfect in approved." c. 20. " Neither doth the weakness. So then he was not heard ; evil will, because it would not obey the yet not to foolishness, but to wisdom." order of nature, therefore escape the S. Aug. ad loc. laws of the just God, Who ordereth all ' Ordinator. This distinction often things well." o. 21. " It is in thepower occurs in S. Augustine. " He said not, of the evil to ain. But in sinning to ' Let there be darkness, and there was effect this or that by their evil, is not in darkness,' and yet He ordered them, their power, but of God, Who divideth The one He made and ordered; the the darkness, and ordereth it." De Freed, other He did not make, yet this also Sanct. o. 16. He ordered. But by ' darkness' is sig- 10 Baptism wrongly deferred ; on what grounds. CONF.Lord my God, I sinned in transgressing the commands of my — '—^ parents and those my masters. For what they, with whatever motive, would have me learn, I might afterward have put to good use. For I disobeyed, not from a better choice, but from love of play, loving the pride of victory in my contests, and to have my ears tickled with lying fables, that they might itch the more; the same curiosity flashing from my eyes more and more, for the shows and games of my elders. Yet those who give these shows are in such esteem, that almost all wish the same for their children, and yet are very willing that they should be beaten, if those very games detain them from the studies, whereby they would have them attain to be the givers of them. Look with pity. Lord, on these things, and deliver us who call upon Thee now ; deliver those too who call not on Thee yet, that they may call on Thee, and Thou mayest deliver them. [XL] 17. As a boy, then, I had already heard of an eternal life, promised us through the humility of the Lord our God stooping to our pride''; and even from the womb of my mother, who greatly hoped in Thee, I was sealed with the mark of His cross and salted with His salt'- Thou sawest. Lord, how while yet a boy, being seized on a time with sudden op- pression of the stomach, and like near to death — Thou sawest, my God, (for Thou wert my keeper,) with what eager- ness and what faith I sought, from the pious care of my mother and Thy Church, the mother of us all, the baptism of Thy Christ my God and Lord. Whereupon the mother of my flesh, being much troubled, (since, with a heart pure in Gal. 4, "phy faith, she even more lovingly travailed in birth of my sal- vation,) would in eager haste have provided for my consecration and cleansing by the healthgiving sacrameifts, 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 * " That the cause of all disease, i. e. admission as a Catechumen, previous to pride, might be cured, the Son of God Baptism, denoting the purity and uu- came dovra and humbled Himself. For corruptedness and discretion required of pride doth its own will ; humility the Christians. See S. Aug. de Catechiz. will of God." Aug. Tr. 24. in Joh. rudib. c. 26. Concil. Carth. 3. can. 5 ; = A rite in the Western Churches, on and Liturgies in Assem. Cod. Liturg. t. i. Aug. compelled to learn; God's wisdom herein. 11 the whole household, except my father : yet did not he pre- vail over the power of my mother's piety in me, that as he did not yet believ^e, so neither should I. For it was her earnest care, that Thou my God, rather than he, shouldest be my father; and in this Thou didst aid her to prevail over her husband, whom she, the better, obeyed, therein also obey- ing Thee, Who hast so commanded. 18. I beseech Thee, my God, I would fain know, if so Thou wiliest, for what purpose my baptism was then deferred ? 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 boyhood ! These my mother foresaw ; and preferred to expose to them the clay whence I might afterwards be moulded, than the very cast, when made '. [XII.] 19. In boyhood itself, however, (so much less dreaded for me than youth,) I loved not study, and hated to be forced to it. Yet I was forced ; and this was well done towards me, but I did not well ; for, unless forced, I had not learnt. But no one doth well against his will, even though what he doth, be well. Yet neither did they well who forced me, but what was well came to me from Thee, my God. For they were regardless how I should employ what they forced me to learn, except to satiate the insatiate desires of a wealthy beggary, and a shamefirl glory. But Thou, hy whom the very hairs q/'Matt. our head are numbered, didst use for my good the error of all ^"^ ^^' who urged me to learn ; and my own, who would not learn, Thou didst use for my punishment — a fit penalty for one, so small a boy and so great a sinner. So by those who did not well, Thou didst well for me ; and by my own sin Thou didst justly punish me. For Thou hast commanded, and so it is, that every inordinate affection should be its own punishment. ^ His unregenerate nature, on which the image of God was not yet impressed, rather than the regenerate. 12 Poetry a vanity to the unregenerate. CONF. [XIII.] 20. But why did 1 so much hate the Greek, which ' I studied as a boy .? I do not yet iiilly 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 Ps. 78, from the sin and vanity of this life, because / was flesh, and a breath that passeth away and cometh not again? 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 the wanderings of one iEneas, forgetful of my own, and to weep for dead Dido, because she killed herself for love ; the while, with dry eyes, I endured my miserable self dying among these things, far from Thee, O God my life. 21. For what more miserable than a miserable being who commiserates not himself; weeping the death of Dido for love to ^neas, but weeping not his own death for want of love to Thee, O God. Thou light of my heart. Thou bread of my inmost soul. Thou Power who givest vigour to my mind, who quickenest my thoughts, I loved Thee not. I committed fornication against Thee, and all around me thus fornicating Jas. 4,4. there echoed " Well done ! well done !" for the friendship of this world is fornication against Thee'; and " Well done! well done !" echoes on till one is ashamed not to be thus a man. And all this I wept not, I who wept for Dido slain, and " seeking by the sword a stroke and wound extreme," myself seeking the while a worse extreme, the extremest and lowest of Thy creatures, having forsaken Thee, earth passing into the earth. And if forbid to read all this, I was grieved that I might not read what grieved me. Madness like this is thought a higher and richer 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 better was that first study." For, lo, I would readily forget the wanderings of ^neas and all the rest, rather than how to read and *' " To forsake that One Good for the commit fornication against God." Aug. multitude of pleasures, the love of the Serm. 142. 2. world, and earthly corruption, is to Irksomeness qf learning tempered by God to good. 13 write. But over the entrance of the Grammar School is a vaiP drawn! true; yet is this not so much an emblem of aught recondite, as a cloke of error. Let not those, whom I no longer fear, cry out againt me, while I confess to Thee, my God, whatever my soul will, and acquiesce in the condemnation of my evil ways, that I may love Thy good ways. Let not either buyers or sellers of grammar-learning cry out against me. For if I question them whether it be true, that ^neas came on a time to Carthage, as the Poet tells, the less learned will reply that they know not, the more learned that he never did. But should I ask with what letters the name " .iEneas" is written, every one who has learnt this will answer me aright, as to the signs which men have con- ventionally settled. If, again, I should ask, which might be forgotten with least detriment to the concerns of life, reading and writing or these poetic fictions ? who does not foresee, what all must answer who have not wholly forgotten themselves ? I sinned, then, when as a boy I prefen-ed those empty to those more profitable studies, or rather loved the one and hated the other. " One and one, two ;" " two and two, four ;" this was to me a hateful sing-song: "the wooden horse lined with armed men," and " the burning of Troy," and " Creusa's ^n. 2. shade and sad similitude," were the choice spectacle of my vanity. [XIV.] 23. Why then did I hate the Greek classics, which have the like tales ? For Homer also curiously wove the like fictions, and is most sweetly- vain, yet was he bitter to my boyish taste. And so I suppose would Virgil be to Grecian children, when forced to learn him as I was Homer. Diffir culty, 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 cruel threats and punishments. Time was also, (as an infant,) I knew no Latin ; but this I learned without fear or suffering, by mere observation, amid the caresses of my nursery and jests of friends, smiling and sportively encouraging me. This I learned without any gTlie"vair'wasaneniUemofhoiiour, and the school itself, besides being a used in places of worship, and subse- mark of dignity, may, as S. Aug. per- quently in courts of law. Emperors' haps implies, have been intended to palaces, and even private houses. See denote the hidden mysteries taught Du Fresne and Hoffmann sub v. That therein, and that the mass of mankind between the vestibule, or proscholium, were not fit hearers of truth. 14 Evils in classical study, CONF. pressure of punishment to urge me on, for my heart urged me — '—^ to give birth to its conceptions, which I could only do by learning words not of those who taught, but of those who talked with me; in whose ears also I gave birth to the thoughts, whatever I conceived. No doubt then, that a free curiosity has more force in our learning these things, than a frightful enforcement. Only this enforcement re- strains the rovings of that freedom, through Thy laws, O my God, Thy laws, from the master's cane to the martyr's trials, being able to temper for us a wholesome bitter, recalling us to Thyself from that deadly pleasure which lures us from Thee. [XV.] 24. Hear, Lord, my prayer; let not my soul faint under Thy discipline, nor let me faint in confessing unto Thee aU 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 1 once pursued °; that I may most entirely love Thee, and clasp Thy hand with all my affections, and Thou mayest yet rescue me from every tempt- ation, even unto the end. For, lo, O Lord, my King and my God, for Thy service be whatever useful thing my childhood learned ; for Thy service, that I speak — write — read — ^reckon. For Thou didst grant me Thy discipline, while I was learning 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 roll the sons of Eve into that huge and hideous ocean, which even they scarcely overpass who climb the Cross'? Did not I read in thee of Jove the thunderer and the adulterer ? Both, doubtless, he could not be ; but so the feigned thunder might countenance and pander to real adultery. And now which of our gowned masters, lends a sober ear to one 8 who fi-om their own school cries out, " These were <= " For the love of things temporal nor was there any way of passing to can only be overcome in us by a certain thy country, unless thou be borne on pleasurablenessof things eternal." Aug. the Cross. Himself was made Thy face. Lord, will I seek. For darkened affec- 21. 'tion is removal from Thee. For it is not by our feet, or change of place, that men leave Thee, or return unto Thee. Or did that Thy younger son look out for horses or chariots, or ships, fly with visible wings, or journey by the motion of his limbs, that he might in a far country waste in riotous living all Thou gavest at his departure ? A loving Father, when Thou gavest, and more loving unto him, when he returned empty. So then in lustfiil, that is, in darkened affections, is the true distance from Thy face. 29. Behold, O Lord God, yea, behold patiently as Thou Inconsistent waywardness of his childhood. 17 art wont, how carefully the sons of men observe the cove- nanted rules of letters and syllables received from those who spake before them, neglecting the eternal covenant of ever- lasting salvation received from Thee. Insomuch, that a teacher or learner of the hereditary laws of pronunciation will more offend men, by speaking without the aspirate, of a " uman being," in despite of the laws of grammar, than if he, a " human being," hate a " human being" in despite of Thine. As if any enemy could be more hurtful than the hatred with which he is incensed against him ; or could wound more deeply him whom he persecutes, than he wounds his own soul by his enmity. Assuredly no science of letters can be so innate as the record of conscience, " that he is doing to another what from another he would be loath to suffer." How deep are Thy ways, O God, Thou only great, that sittest silent on high. Is. 33,5. 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, de- claiming 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 fury of his spirit, he murder the real human being '- 30. This was the world at whose gate unhappy I lay in my boyhood ; this the stage, where I had feared more to commit a barbarism, than having committed one, to envy those who had not. These things I speak and confess to Thee, my God; for which I had praise from them, whom I then thought it all virtue to please. For I saw not the abyss of vileness, wherein I was cast away from Thine eyes. Before them what more Ps. 31, foul than I was already, displeasing even such as myself? ' with innumerable lies deceiving my tutor, my masters, my parents, from love of play, eagerness to see vain shows, and restlessness to imitate them ! Thefts also I committed, from my parents' cellar and table, enslaved by greediness, or that I might have to- give to boys, who sold me their play, which all the while they liked no less than I. In this play, too, I often sought unfair conquests, conquered myself meanwhile by vain desire of preeminence. And what could I so ill endme, or, when I detected it, upbraided I so fiercely, as that I was * Lit. is careful not to say " inter homlnibus," but takes no care, lest — he destroy " hominem ex hominibus." 18 All admirable in him, but his sin. CONF. doing to others ? and for which if, detected, I was upbraided, — '—^ I chose rather to quarrel, than to yield. And is this the innocence of boyhood ? Not so, Lord, not so ; I cry Thy mercy, O my God. For these very sins, as riper years succeed, these very sins are transferred from tutors and masters, from nuts and balls and sparrows, to magistrates and kings, to gold and manors and slaves, just as severer punish- ments displace the cane. It was the low stature then of child- hood, which Thou our King didst commend as an emblem of Matt, lowliness, when Thou saidst, Qf such is the kingdom of heaven. 19, 14. jjj Yet, Lord, to Thee, the Creator and Governor of the universe, most excellent and most good, thanks were due to Thee our God, even hadsl Thou destined for me boyhood only. For even then I was, I lived, and felt; and had an implanted providence over my own well-being, — a trace of that mysterious Unity'', whence I was derived ; — I guarded by the inward sense the entireness of my senses, and in these minute pursuits, and in my thoughts on things minute, I learnt to delight in truth, I hated to be deceived, had a vigorous memory, was gifted with speech, was soothed by friendship, avoided pain, baseness, ignorance. In so small a creature, what was not wonderful, not admirable ? But all are gifts of my God ; it was not I, who gave them me ; and good these are, and these together are myself. Good, then, is He that made me, and He is my good ; and before Him will I exult for every good which of a boy I had. For it was my sin, that not in Him, but in His creatures — ^myself and others — I sought for pleasures, sublimities, truths, and so fell head- long into sorrows, confusions, errors. Thanks be to Thee, my joy and my glory and my confidence, my God, thanks be to Thee for Thy gifts; but do Thou preserve them to me. For so wilt Thou preserve me, and those things shall be en- larged and perfected, which Thou hast given me, and I myself shall be with Thee, since even to be Thou hast given me. ^ " To be, is no other than to be one. themselves, because they are one ; but In as far, therefore, as any thing attains things compounded, imitate unity by the unity, in so far it ' is.' For unity work- harmony of their parts, and, so far as they eth congruity and harmony, whereby attain to unity, they are. Wherefore order things composite are, in so far as they and rule secure being, disorder tends to are: for things uncompounded are in not-being." Aug. de morib. Manioh. c. 6. THE SECOND BOOK. Object of these Confessions. Further ills of idleness developed in his sixteenth year. Qvils of ill society, which betrayed him into theft. [T.] 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 remembrance, that Thou mayest grow sweet unto me ; (Thou sweetness never failing, Thou blissful and assured sweetness ;) and gathering me again out of that my dissipation, wherein I was torn piecemeal, while turned firom Thee, the One Good, I lost myself among a multiplicity of things ° For I even burnt in my youth heretofore, to be satiated in things below ; and I dared to grow wild again, with these various and shadowy loves : my beauty consumed away, and I stank in Thine eyes ; pleasing myself, and desirous to please in the eyes of men. [II.] 2. And what was it that I delighted in, but to love, and be beloved? but I kept not the measure of love, of mind to mind, friendship's bright boundary ; but out of the muddy concupiscence of the flesh, and the bubblings of youth, mists filmed up which beclouded and overcast my heart, that I could not discern the clear brightness of love, from the fog of lust- fiilness. Both did confusedly boil in me, and hurried my unstayed youth over the precipice of unholy desires, and sunk me in a gulf of flagitiousnesses. Thy wrath had gathered over me, and I knew it not. I was grown deaf by the clank- ing of the chain of my mortality, the punishment of the pride of my soul, and I strayed further from Thee, and Thou lettest me alone, and I was tossed about, and wasted, and dissipated, and I boiled over in my fornications, and Thou heldest Thy peace, O Thou my tardy joy ! Thou then heldest Thy peace, and I wandered further and fiirther from ^ " For as in a circle, however large, you tate, the greater number of lines there is one middle point, whither all you draw, the more is every thing con- converge, called by Geometricians the fused; so the soul is tossed to and fro centre, andalthoughthepaitsofthe whole by the very vastness of things, and is circumference may be divided innume- crushed by a real destitution, in that its rably, yet is there no other point save own nature compels it every where to thatone, from which allmeasure equally, seek One Object, and the multiplicity and which, by a certain law of evenness, suffers it not." Aug. de Ordine i. 3, hath the sovereignty over all — ^but if inf. ix. c. 4. §. 10. xii* 16 fin. you leave this one point, whatever point c 2 20 Man's neglect of youth, and God's care of it. CONF.Thee, into more and more fruitless seed-plots of sorrows, and B II • • — '■ — ^a proud dejectedness, and a restless weanness. 3. Oh ! that some one had then attempered my disorder, and turned to account the fleeting beauties of these, the extreme points of Thy creation ! had put a bound to their pleasurable- ness, that so the tides of my youth might have cast themselves upon the marriage shore, if they could not be calmed, and kept within the object of a family, as Thy law prescribes, Lord: who this way formest the off"spring 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 1 more watchfully to have heeded the voice from the clouds ; 1 Cor. 7. Nevertheless such shall have trouble in the flesh, but I spare ^"r 1 you. And, it is good for a man not to touch a woman. And, ver. 32, he that is unmarried thinketh of the things of the Lord, how he may please the Lord; but he that is married careth for the things of this world, how he may please his wife. 4. To these words I should have listened more atten- Mat. i9,tively, and being severed yb/- the kingdom of heaven's sake, *^' 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 exceeded all Thy limits ^ yet I escaped not Thy scourges. For what mortal can } For Thou wert ever with me mercifiilly rigorous, and besprinkling with most bitter alloy 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 sorrow^, and Deut. woundest us, to heal ; and killest us, lest we die from Thee. 32, 29. \Yhere ^^s I, and how far was I exiled from the delights of Thy house, in that sixteenth year of the age of my flesh, when the madness of lust (to which human shamelessness giveth free license, though unlicensed by Thy laws) took the rule over me, and I resigned myself wholly to it? My friends mean- while 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. b Ps. 93, 20. Vulg. Lit. " formest those Thy sons, that they should not be trouble in or as a precept." Thou mat- without fear, lest they should love some- est to us a precept out of trouble, so that thing else, and forget Thee, their true trouble itself shall be a precept to us, i. e. good. S. Aug. ad loc. hast willed so to discipline and instruct Effects qf idleness — his mother's fears for him. 21 [III.] 5. For that year were my studies intermitted : whilst after my return from Madaura", (a neighbour city, whither I had journeyed to leam grammar and rhetoric,) the expenses for a further journey to Carthage were being provided for me; and that, rather by the resolution than the means of my father, who was but a poor freeman of Thagaste. To whom tell I this ? not to Thee, my G od ; but before Thee to mine own kind, even to that small portion of mankind as may light upon these writings of mine. And to what purpose ? that whoso- ever reads this, may think out qf what depths we are to cry Ps. 130, unto Thee. For what is nearer to Thine ears than a confess- ing heart, and a life of faith ? Who did not extol my father, for that beyond the ability of his means, he would furnish his son with all necessaries for a far journey for his studies' sake.' For many far abler citizens did no such thing for their chil- dren. But yet this same father had no concern, how I grew towards Thee, or how chaste I were; so that I were but copious in speech, however barren I were to Thy culture, O God, who art the only true and good Lord of Thy field, my heart. 6. But while in that my sixteenth year I Hved with my parents, leaving all school for a while, (a season of idleness being interposed through the narrowness of my parents' fortunes,) the briers of unclean desires grew rank over my head, and there was no hand to root them out. When that my father saw me at the baths, now growing toward manhood, and endued with a restless youthfulness, he, as already hence anticipating his descendants, gladly told it to my mother; rejoicing in that tumult of the senses wherein the world forgetteth Thee its Creator, and becometh enamoured of Thy creature, instead of Thyself, through the fiimes of that invisi- ble wine of its self-vsdll, turning aside and bowing down to the very basest things. But in my mother's breast Thou hadst already begun Thy temple, and the foimdation of Thy holy habitation, whereas my father was as yet but a catechu- men, and that but recently. She then was startled with an holy fear and trembling ; and though I was not as yet bap- tized, feared for me those crooked ways, in which they walk, who turn their back to Thee, and not their face. Jer.2,27. •> Formerly an episcopal city ; now a "his fathers," in a, letter persuading small village. At this time the inhabit- them to embrace the Gospel. Ep. 232. ants were heaflien. S, Aug, calls them 22 God ^ahe to him through his mother — men ashamed not to sin. CONF. 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 these words which by my mother, Thy faithful one. Thou sangest in my ears ? Nothing whereof sunk into my heart, so as to do it. For she wished, and I remember in private with great anxiety warned me, " not to commit fornication ; but especially never to defile another's wife." These seemed to me womanish advices, which T 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 wast despised by me, her Ps. 116, son, the son of Thy handmaid. Thy servant. But I knew it not ; and ran headlong with such blindness, that amongst my equals I was ashamed of a less shamelessness, when I heard them boast of their flagitiousness, yea, and the more boasting, the more they were degraded : and I took pleasure, not only in the pleasure of the deed, but in the praise. What is worthy of dispraise but Vice ? But I made myself worse than I was, that I might not be dispraised ; and when in any thing I had not sinned as the abandoned ones, I would say that I had done what I had not done, that I might not seem contempti- ble in proportion as I was innocent ; or of less account, the more chaste. 8. Behold with what companions I walked the streets of Babylon, and wallowed in the mire thereof, as if in a bed of spices, and precious ointments. And that I might cleave the faster to its very centre, the invisible enemy trod me down, and seduced me, for that I was easy to be seduced. Neither Jer. 51, did the mother of my flesh, (who had now fled out of the ^- centre of Babylon, yet went more slowly in the skirts thereof,) as she advised me to chastity, so heed what she had heard of me from her husband, as to restrain 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 fiittire dangerous. She heeded not this, for she feared, lest a wife should prove a clog and hindrance to my hopes. Not those hopes of the world to come, which my mother reposed 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 ; Aug.'s theft for the mere pleasure qf thieving. 23 my mother, because she accounted that those usual courses of learning would not only be no hindrance, but even some furtherance towards attaining Thee. For thus I conjecture, recalling, as well as I may, the disposition of my parents. The reins, mean time, were slackened to me, beyond all temper of due severity, to spend my time in sport, yea, even unto dis- soluteness in whatsoever I affected. And in all was a mist, intercepting from me, O my God, the brightness of Thy truth ; and mine iniquity burst out as from very fatness. P^- '3, [IV.] 9. Theft is punished by Thy law, O Lord, and " the law written in the hearts of men, which iniquity itself eflFaces not. For what thief will abide a thief.? not even a rich thief, one stealing through want. Yet I lusted to thieve, and did it, compelled by no hunger, nor poverty, but through a cloyedness of welldoing, and a pamperedness of iniquity. For I stole that, of which I had enough, and much better. Nor cared I to enjoy what I stole, but joyed in the theft and sin itself. A pear tree there was near our vineyard, laden with fruit, tempting neither for colour nor taste. To shake and rob this, some lewd young fellows of us went, late one night, (having according to our pestilent custom prolonged our sports in the streets till then,) and took huge loads, not for our eating, but to fling to the very hogs, having only tasted them. And this, but to do, what we liked only, because it was misliked. Behold my heart, O God, behold my heart, which Thou hadst pity upon in the bottom of the bottomless pit. Now, behold let my heart tell Thee, what it sought there, that I should be gratuitously evil, having no temptation to ill, but the ill itself. It was foul, and I loved it; I loved to perish, I loved mine own fault, not that for which I was faulty, but my fault itself Foul soul, falling from Thy firmament to utter destruction ; not seeking aught through the shame, but the shame itself! [v.] 10. For there is an attractiveness in beautifiil bodies, in gold and silver, and all things ; and in bodily touch, sym- palJiy hath much influence, and each other sense hath his proper object answerably tempered. Worldly honovu: hath also its grace, and the power of overcoming, and of mastery ; whence springs also the thirst of revenge. But yet, to obtain all these, we may not depart from Thee, O Lord, nor decline from Thy law. The life also which here we live hath its own 24 All sin proposes some end; CO NF. 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 immoderate inclination towards these goods of the lowest order, the better and higher are forsaken'', — Thou, our Lord God, Thy truth, and Thy law. For these lower thirigs have their delights, Ps. 64, but not like my God, who made all things ; for in Him doth ***• the righteous delight, and He is the Joy of the upright in heart. 11. When, then, we ask why a crime was done, we be- lieve it not, unless it appear that there might have been some desire of obtaining some of those which we called lower goods, or a fear of losing them. For they are beautiful and comely ; although compared with those higher and beatific goods, they be abject and low. A man hath mur- dered another ; why ? he loved his wife or his estate ; or would rob for his own livelihood; or feared to lose some such thing by him ; or, wronged, was on fire to be revenged. Would any commit murder upon no cause, delighted simply in murdering ? Who would believe it ? For as for that furious and savage man, of whom it is said that he was gratuitously evil and cruel, yet is the cause assigned'; " lest" (saith he) " through idleness hand or heart should" grow in- active." And to what end ? That, through that practice of guilt, he might, having taken the city, attain to honours, empire, riches, and be freed from fear of the laws, and his embarrassments from domestic needs, and consciousness of villanies. So then, not even Catiline himself loved his own villanies, but something else, for whose sake he did them. [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 wert not, because thou wert theft. But art thou any thing, that thus I speak to thee ? Fair were the pears we stole, because they were Thy creation, Thou fairest of all, Creator of all. Thou good God; God, the sovereign good and my true good. Fair were those pears, but not them •> " We convict the mind of sin, when them." Aug. de Lib. Arb. iii. 1. we convict it of preferring the lower <= Sallust. de Bell. Catil. v. 9. things, forsaking the higher to enjoy imitates pervertedly some excellence of God. 25 did my wretched soul desire ; for I had store of better, and those I gathered, only that I might steal. For, when gathered, I flmig 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 love- liness 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 belongeth to deceiving vices. 13. For so doth pride imitate exaltedness ; whereas Thou Alone art God exalted over all. Ambition, what seeks it, but honours and glory.? whereas Thou Alone art to be honoured above all, and glorious for evermore. The cruelty of the great would fain be feared ; but who is to be feared but God alone, out of whose power what can be wrested or with- drawn ? when, or where, or whither, or by whom ? The ten- dernesses of the wanton would fain be counted love : yet is nothing more tender than Thy charity ; nor is aught loved more healthfully than that Thy truth, bright and beautiful above all. Curiosity makes semblance of a desire of know- ledge ; whereas Thou supremely knowest all. Yea, ignorance and foolishness itself is cloked under the name of simplicity and uninjuriousness ; because nothing is found more single than Thee : and what less injurious, since they are his own works, which injure the sinner''? Yea, sloth would fain be at rest; but what stable rest besides the Lord? Luxury affects to be called plenty and abundance ; but Thou art the fulness and never-failing plenteousness of incorruptible pleasures. Prodigality presents a shadow of liberality: but Thou art the most overflowing Giver of all good. Covetousness would possess many things : and Thou possessest all things. Envy * After this will come just judgment, God need produce out of Itself that of which he (the Psalmist) so speaks, whereby sins were to he punished ; for thatwemay understand that each man's He so disposeth sins, that what were own sin is the instrument of his punish- delights to man sinning, are the instru- ment, and his iniquity is turned into ys ments of the Lord punishing. S. Aug. torment; that we may not think, that in Ps. 7, 15. that serenity and ineffable light of 26 Men seek in the creature, what is only in the Creator. CONF. disputes for excellency: what more excellent than Thou? — '■ — '- Anger seeks revenge: who revenges more justly than Thou? Fear startles at things unwonted or sudden, which endanger things beloved, and takes forethought for their safety ; Kom. 8,but to Thee what unwonted or sudden, or who separateth from Thee what Thou lovest? Or where but with Thee is unshaken safety ? Grief pines away for things lost, the delight of its desires ; because it would have nothing taken from it, as nothing can from Thee. 14. Thus doth the soul commit fornication, when she turns from Thee, seeking without Thee, what she findeth not pure and untainted, till she returns to Thee. Thus all pervertedly 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; whence there is no place whither altogether to retire from Thee. What then did I love in that theft? and wherein did I even corruptly and pervertedly imitate my Lord? Did I wish even by stealth to do contrary to Thy law, because by power I could not, so that being a prisoner, I might mimic a maimed liberty by doing with impunity things unpermitted Jonah, me, a darkened likeness of Thy Omnipotency'? Behold, c.l. ^.rjTjjy. ggryant^ fleeing from his Lord, and obtaining a shadow. rottenness, O monstrousness of life, and depth of death ! could I like what I might not, only because I might not ? Ps. 116, [VII.] 15. What shall I render unto the Lord, that, ^2. whilst my memory recals these things, my soul is not af- frighted at them? / will love Thee, O Lord, and thank Thee, and confess unto Thy name; because Thou hast forgiven me these so great and heinous deeds of mine. To Thy grace I ascribe it, and to Thy mercy, that Thou hast melted away my sins as it were ice. To Thy grace 1 ascribe also whatsoever I have not done of evil ; for what might I not have done, who even loved a sin for its own sake? Yea, all I confess to have been forgiven me; both what evils I committed by my ovra wilfulness, and what by Thy guidance I committed not. What man is he, who, ■= Souls in their very sins sect hut a tate God the Father with an impious sort of likeness of God, in a proud and pride ; the righteous, with a holy honnti- perverted, and, so to say, slavish freedom, fulness." c. Secundin. Man. c. 10. Aug. de Trin. 1. xi. c. 6. " Sinners imi- Through God alone are men keptjrom, or healed of, any sin. 27 weighing his own infirmity, daxes to ascribe his purity and innocency to his own strength ; that so he should love Thee the less, as if he had less needed Thy mercy °, whereby Thou remittest sins to those that turn to Thee ? For whosoever, called by Thee, followed Thy voice, and avoided those things which he reads me recalling and confessing of myself, let him not scorn me, who being sick, was cured by that Physician, through Whose aid it was that he was not, or rather was less, sick : and for this let him love Thee as much, yea and more; since by Whom he sees me to have been recovered fi'om such deep consumption of sin, by Him he sees himself to have been from the like consumption of sin preserved. [VIII.] 16. What fruit had I then (wretched man !) in Kom. 6, those things, of the remembrance whereqf I am now ' ashamed? Especially, in that theft which I loved for the theft's sake; and it too was nothing', and therefore the more miserable I, who loved it. Yet alone I had not done it : such was I then, I remember, alone I had never done it. I loved then in it also the company of the accomplices, with whom I did it.'' I did not then love nothing else but the theft, yea rather I did love nothing else ; for that circumstance of the company was also nothing. What is, in truth ? who can teach me, save He that enlighteneth my heart, and discovereth its dark comers.? What is it which hath come into my mind to enquire, and discuss, and consider ? For had I then loved the pears I stole, and wished to enjoy them, I might have done it alone, had the bare commission of the theft suflSced to attain my pleasure ; nor needed I have inflamed the itching of my desires, by the excitement of accomplices. But since my pleasure was not in those pears, it was in the offence itself, which the company of fellow-sinners occasioned. [IX.] 17. What then was this feeling? For of a truth it was too foul : and woe was me, who had it. But yet what was it .? Who can understand his errors ? It was the sport, Ps. 19, 12.' « " Love Him not little, as though have ! For whosoever from the outset He had forgiven thee little, hut rather remaineth chaste, is governed hy Him ; love Him mach, Who hath given thee and whoso from unchaste hecometh much. For if he'loveth, to whom it chaste, is amended by_Him ; and whoso hath been forgiven, that he have not to to the end is unchaste is forsaken by repay, how much more oughf he to love, Him." Aug. de S. Virginit. c. 42. to whom it hath been given,, that he ' See iii. 7. vii. 12. (old Ed.) 28 Man not strong enough to hear ill society. CONF. which, as it were, tickled our hearts, that we beguiled, those — : — 1 who little thought what we were doing, and much misliked it. Why then was my delight of such sort, that I did it not alone ? Because none doth ordinarily laugh alone ? ordinarily no one ; yet laughter sometimes masters men alone and singly when no one whatever is with them, if any thing very ludicrous presents itself to their senses or mind. Yet I had not done this alone ; alone I had never never done it. Behold my God, before Thee, the vivid remembrance of my soul ; alone, I had never committed that theft, wherein what I stole pleased me not, but that I stole ; nor had it alone liked me to do it, nor had I done it. O friendship too unfriendly ! thou incomprehensible inveigler of the soul, thou greediness to do mischief out of mirth and wantonness, thou thirst of others' loss, without lust of my own gain or revenge : but when it is said, " Let's go, let's do it," we are ashamed not to be shameless. [X.] 18. Who can disentangle that twisted and intricate knottiness? Foul is it: I hate to think on it, to look on it. But Thee I long for, O Righteousness and Innocency, beau- tifiil and comely to all pure eyes, and of a satisfaction un- sating. With Thee is rest entire, and life imperturbable. Matt. Whoso enters into Thee, enters into the Joy of his Lord: ' ' and shall not fear, and shall do excellently in the All- Excel- lent. I sank away from Thee, and I wandered, O my God, too much astray from Thee my stay, in these days of my youth, and I became to myself a barren land. THE THIRD BOOK. His residence at Carthage from his seventeenth to his nineteenth year. Source of his disorders. Love of shows. Advance in studies, and love of wisdom. Distaste for Scripture. Led astray to the Manichaeans. Re- futation of some of their tenets. Grief of his mother Monnica at his heresy, and prayers for his conversion. Her vision from God, and answer through a Bishop. [I.] 1. To Carthage I came, where there sang all around me in my ears a cauldron of unholy loves. I loved not yet, yet I loved to love, and out of a deep-seated want, I hated myself for wanting not. I sought what I might love, in love 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 hungered ; but was without all longing for incorruptible sustenance, not be- cause filled therewith, but the more empty, the more I loathed it. For this cause ray soul was sickly and full of sores, it miserably cast itself forth, desiring to be scraped by the touch of objects of sense. Yet if these had not a soul, they would not be objects of love. To love then, and to be beloved, was sweet to me; but more, when I obtained to enjoy the person I loved, r defiled, therefore, the spring of friendship vsdth the filth of concupiscence, and I beclouded its brightness with the hell of lustfulness ; and thus foul and unseemly, I would fain, through exceeding vanity, be fine and 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 sweet- ness? For I was both beloved, and secretly arrived at the bond of enjoying; and was with joy fettered with sorrow- bringing bonds, that I might be scourged with the iron burn- ing 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 30 Difference between false and real sympathy; CONF. as a spectator to feel sorrow at them, and this very sorrow ?iiJi in his pleasure. What is this but a miserable madness? for a man is the more affected with these actions, the less free he is from such affections. Howsoever, when he suffers in his own person, it uses to be styled misery : when he hath fellow-suf- fering, then it is mercy " But what sort of compassion is this for feigned and scenical passions ? for the auditor is not called on to relieve, but only to grieve: and he applauds the actor of these fictions the more, the more he grieves. And if the calamities of those persons (whether of old times, or mere fiction) be so acted, that the spectator is not moved to tears, he goes away disgusted and criticising ; but if he be moved to passion, he stays intent, and weeps for joy. 3. Are griefs then too loved? Verily all desire joy. Or whereas no man likes to be miserablej is he yet pleased to be merciful ? which because it cannot be without passion, for this reason alone are passions loved ? This also springs from that vein of friendship. But whither goes that vein? whither flows it? wherefore runs it into that' torrent of pitch bubbling forth those monstrous tides of foul lustfulness, into which it is wilfiilly changed and transformed, being of its own will preci- pitated and corrupted from its heavenly clearness ? Shall compassion then be put away ? by no means. Be griefs then sometimes loved. But beware of uncleanness, O my soul, under Song of the guardianship of my God, the God of our fathers, who is to ChT^ Se/Jraisec? and exalted above all for ever, beware of uncleanness. dren, J'or I have not now ceased to 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 pernicious pleasure, and the loss of some miserable felicity. This certainly is the truer mercy, but in it, grief delights not. For though he that grieves for the miserable, be commended for his office of ^ " Misericordia" [mweWcorrfe, whence which is said to bubble out a pitehy our ' mercy'] " is so called, because it slime, into which other rivers running, maketh the heart to suffer [' miserum' are there lost in it. And like the lake facit ' cor'] through grief at another's itself, remain unmoveable: wherefore it ill." Aug. de mor. Eccl. k. 27. is called the Dead Sea. (old Ed.) See 1 He alludes to the sea of Sodom, Tacit, Hist. 1. t. injury qf unreal sympathy. 3 1 charity ; yet had he, who is genuinely compassionate, rather there were nothing for him to grieve for. For if good will be ill willed, (which can never be,) then may he, who truly and sincerely commiserates, wish there might be some miserable, that he might commiserate. Some sorrow may then be al- lowed, none loved. For thus dost Thou, O Lord God, who lovest souls far more purely than we, and hast more incor- ruptibly pity on them, yet art wounded with no sonrowfulness. And who is sufficient for these things ? le'""'^' 4. But I, miserable, then loved to grieve, and sought out what to grieve at, when in another's and that feigned and personated misery, that acting best pleased me, and attracted me the most vehemently, which drew tears from me. What marvel that an unhappy sheep, straying from Thy flock, and impatient of Thy keeping, I became infected with a foul disease \ And hence the love of griefs ; not such as should sink deep into me ; for I loved not to suffer, what I loved to look on ; but such as upon hearing their fictions should lightly scratch the surface; upon which as on envenomed nails, followed inflamed swelling, impostumes, and a putrified sore. My life being such, was it life, O my God ? [III.] 5. And Thy faithful mercy hovered over me afar. Upon how grievous iniquities consumed I myself, pursuing a sacrilegious curiosity, that having forsaken Thee, it might bring me to the treacherous abyss, and the beguiling service of devils, to whom I sacrificed my evil actions, and in all these things thou didst scourge me ! I dared even, while Thy solemnities were celebrated within the walls of Thy Church, to desire, and to compass a business, deserving death for its fi"uits, for which Thou scourgedst me with grievous punish- ments, though nothing to my fault, O Thou my exceeding mercy, my God, my refiige 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 commendable, had a view to excelling in the courts of litigation ; the more bepraised, the craftier. Such is men's blindness, glorying even in their blindness. And now I was chief in the rhetoric school, whereat I joyed proudly, and I swelled with arrogancy, though (Lord, Thou knowest) far quieter and altogether re- 32 Philosophy made the beginnings qf his conversion. CONF. moved from the subvertiugs of those " Subverters"" (for '^^^' this ill-omened and devilish name, was the very badge of gallantry) among whom I lived, with a shameless shame that I was not even as they. With them I lived, and was sometimes delighted with their friendship, whose doings I ever did abhor, i. e. their " subvertings," wherewith they wantonly persecuted the modesty of strangers, which they disturbed by a gratuitous jeering, feeding thereon their ma- licious mirth. Nothing can be liker the very actions of devils than these. What then could they be more truly called than " subverters ?" themselves subverted and alto- gether perverted first, the deceiving spirits secretly deriding and seducing them, wherein themselves delight to jeer at, and deceive others. [IV.] 7. Among such as these, in that unsettled age of mine, learned I books of eloquence, wherein I desired to be eminent out of a damnable and vain glorious end, a joy in human vaiiity. In the ordinary course of study, I fell upon a certain book of Cicero, whose speech almost all admire, not so his heart. This book of his contains an exhortation to philosophy, and is called " Hortensius." But this book altered my affections, and turned my prayers to Thyself, O Lord; and made me have other purposes and desires. Every vain hope at once became worthless to me; and I longed with an incredibly burning desire for an immortality of wisdom, and began now to arise, that I might return to Thee. For not to sharpen my tongue, (which thing I seemed to be purchasing with my mother's allowances, in that my nineteenth year, my father being dead two years before,) not to sharpen my tongue did I employ that book; nor did it infuse into me its style, but its matter. 8. How did I burn then, my God, how did I bum to re-mount from earthly things to Thee, nor knew I what Thou wouldest do with me ? For with Thee is wisdom. But the love of wisdom is in Greek called " philosophy," with which that book inflamed me. Some there be that seduce through ' Eveisores. This appears to have below, 1. 5. c. 12, whence they seem to been a name which a pestilent and sa- have consisted mainly of Carthaginian vage set of persons gave themselves, students, whose savage life is mentioned licentious alike in speech and action, again, ib. c. 8. He refers to them in Aug. names them again, de Vera Eelig. the de Catechiz. Rudib. u. 1 1 . e. 40. Ep. 185. ad Bonifao. c. 4 ; and Aug.^s love of the name of Christ, but distaste for Scripture. 33 philosophy, under a great, and smooth, and honourable name colouring and disguising their own errors: and almost all who in that and former ages were such, are in that hook censured and set forth: there also is made plain that whole- some advice of Thy Spirit, by Thy good and devout servant ; Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain Col. 2, deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the ' world, and not after Christ. For in Him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily. 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, according to Thy mercy, O Lord, this name of my Saviour Thy Son, had my tender heart, even with my mother's milk, devoutly drunk in, and deeply treasured ; and whatsoever was without that name, though never so learned, polished, or true, took not entire hold of me. [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 seemed to me unworthy to be compared to the stateliness of TuUy : 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, swoln with pride, took myself to be a great one. [VI.] 10. Therefore 1 fell among men ° proudly doting, exceed- "In the Preface to the boot " On the me among those men, waa their profes- Benefit of Believing," S. Aug. speaks sion, that, setting aside the terrors of further on the errors which betrayed him authority, they would lead such as would to the Maniohees. He is writing to Ho- listen to them, to God by the pl^in and noratus, who was still detained among simple way of reason, and would rescue them, on the benefits of belioTing before them from all errors. For what else led we can see. " Thou knowest, Hono- me, for nearly nine years, despising the ratus, that the circumstance which led religion which was in my boyhood in- 2,4, 34 Aug.\i love of truth, while he fell into errm'. CONF. ing 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 departed not out of their mouth, but so far forth, as the sound "" only and the noise of the tongue, for the heart was void of truth. Yet they cried out " Truth, Truth," and spake much thereof to me, 1 John yet it was not in them : but they spake falsehood, not of Thee only, (who truly art 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 inwardly did even then the marrow of my soul pant after Thee, when they often and diversly, and in many and huge books, echoed of Thee to me, though it was but an echo ? And these were the dishes wherein to me, hungering after Thee, they, instead of Thee, served up the Sun and Moon, beautiful works of Thine, but yet Thy works, not Thyself, no nor Thy first works. For Thy spiritual works are before these corporeal works, celestial though they be, and shining. But I hungered and thirsted not even after those first works of Thine, but after Thee Thy- Jam. 1 self, the Truth, in whom is no variableness, neither shadow of !''• turning : yet they still set before me in those dishes, glit- tering fantasies, than which better were it to love this very sun, (which is real to our sight at least,) than those fantasies which by our eyes deceive 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 these grafted into me by my parents, to follow and held me in the class of ' Hearers,' and be a diligent hearer of those men, as they term it, so that I let not go the but that they alleged that we were terri- hopes and cares of this world, but that I fied by superstition, and that faith was observedthatthey were rather fluent and enjoined to us before reason, while they copious in refuting others, than solid and urged no one to believe, until the truth settled in establishing their own views ?" hadbeensifted and cleared? Who would •> See note A at the end ; §. iii. not be attracted by such promises, espe- " " Ifell amongmen,who heldthatthat oiaUy such as they then found me, an light which we see with our eyes, is to be youthful mind, longing for truth, but worshipped as a chief objeotofreverence. puffed up and prating by aid of the dis- I assented not; yet thought that under putes of some even learned men in the this covering they veiled something of school, despising things as old wives' great account, which they would after- fables, and longing to drink in and retain wards lay open." Aug. de vita Beata, the open and unmixed ti-uth which they Prasf. See fiirther, note A at the end ; promised P But what again recalled me |. i. and iii, b. from being altogether fixed among them. Erroneous heliqf in God nourishes not. 35 emptinesses, nor was I nourished by them, but exhausted rather. Food in sleep shews very like our food awake ; yet are not those asleep nourished by it, for they are asleep. But those were not even any way like to Thee, as Thou hast now spoken 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 fancy them. And again, we do with more certainty fancy them, than by them conjec- ture other vaster and infinite bodies which have no being. Such empty husks was I then fed on ; and was not fed. But Thou, my soul's Love, in looking for whom I fail, that I may ps. 69, become strong, art neither those bodies which we see, though^- in heaven ; nor those which we see not there : for Thou hast created them, nor dost Thou account them among the chief- est of Thy works. How far then art Thou from those fantasies of mine, fantasies of bodies which altogether are not, than which the images of those bodies, which ai-e, are far more cer- tain, and more certain still the bodies themselves, which yet Thou art not; no, noryetthesoul,whichis the life of the bodies. So then, better and more certain is the life of the bodies, than the bodies. But Thou art the life of souls, the life of lives> having life in Thyself; and changest not, life of my soul. 11. Where then wert Thou then to me, and how far fromme ? 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"", variously disguised, answering to five dens of darkness, which have no being, yet slay the believer. For verses and poems I can turn to° true food, and " Medea flying," though I did sing, I maintained not; though I heard it sung, I believed not: but those things I did believe. Woe, woe, by what steps was I brought down to the depths of hell I toiling and turmoiling through want of Prov. 9, 18. * See note A at the end; §. i. b. ing phrensy." Aug. meant in moctery, e Of this passage S. Aug. is prohably that by verses he could get his bread ; speaiking, when he says, " Praises be- his calumniator seems to have twisted the stowed on breadin simplicity of heart, let word to signify a loye-potion. u. lit. Peti- him (Petilian) defame, if he wiU, by the Hani, 1. iii. c. 16. ludicrous title of poisoning and corrupt- d2 36 God, sought wrongly, is not found. CONK. Truth, since I sought after Thee, my God, (to Thee I confess ~ ^ it, who hadst mercy on me, not as yet confessing,) not accord- ing to the understanding of the mind, wherein Thou willedst that I should excel the beasts, but according to the sense of the flesh. But Thou wert more inward to me, than my most inward part ; and higher than my highesf*. I lighted upon Prov. 9, that bold woman, simple and knoiveth nothing, shadowed out in Solomon, sitting at the door, and saying. Eat ye bread of secrecies willingly, and drink ye stolen waters which are sweet: she seduced me, because she found my soul dwelling abroad in the eye of my flesh, and ruminating on such food, as through it I had devoured. [VII.] 12.For other than this, that which really is Iknew not; and was, as itwere through sharpness of wit, persuaded to assent to foolish deceivers, when they asked me, " whence is eviP?" " is God bounded by a bodily shape, and has hairs and nails?" " are they to be esteemed righteous, who had many 1 Kings wives at once, and did kill men, and sacrificed living creatures?" ' ■ At which I, in my ignorance, was much troubled, and depart- ing from the truth, seemed to myself to be making towards it; because as yet I knew not that evil was nothing but a privation of good, until at last a thing ceases altogether to be ; which how should I see, the sight of whose eyes reached only to bodies, and of my mind to a phantasm ? And I knew not John 4, God to 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 should be in us, by which we were like to God, and might in Scripture be rightly said Gen. 1, to be after the Image of God, I was altogether ignorant. 13. Nor knew I that true inward righteousness, which judgeth not according to custom, but out of the most rightful law of God Almighty, whereby the ways of places and times <1 See below, b. vii. e. 12 and 16. sueh heaps of empty fables, that unless ^ EvOD. Tell me whence we do evil ? my love of finding the truth had ob- Atro.Youstart a question, which, when talned for me the Divine aid, I could rather young, greatly harassed me, and never have come out thence, or have drove and oast me headlong and worn breathed even so freely, as to be able among the heretics. Through which fall to enquire at all. Aug. de Lib. Arb. 1. i. I was so broken and overwhelmed by |. 4. 27. GoiPs law in itself the same, in application varies, 37 were disposed, according to those times and places; itself meantime being the same always and every where, not one thing in one place, and another in another; according to which Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and Moses, and David, were righteous, and all those commended by the mouth of God ; but were judged unrighteous by silly men, judging out of man's judgment, and measuring by their own l Cor. 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 forenoon; or when in one house he observeth some servant take a thing in his hand, which the butler is not suffered to meddle with ; or something per- mitted out of doors, which is forbidden in the dining-room ; and should be angry, that in one house, and one family, the same thing is not allotted every where, and to all. Even such are they, who are fretted to hear something to have been lawful for righteous men formerly, which now is not ; or that God, for certain temporal respects, commanded them one thing, and these another, obeying both the same righteous- ness: whereas they see, in one man, and one day, and one house, different things to be fit for different members, and a thing formerly lawful, after a certain time not so ; in one corner 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, because they are times. But men, whose days job 14, are few upon the earth, for that by their senses' they cannot^' harmonize the causes of things in former ages and other nations, which they had no experience of, with these which they have experience of, whereas in one and the same 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. ' " In this world ofsense, we must very again, what, aa a part, offends, does, in earnestly consider the force of time and the judgment of one well-skilled, only place; so as to understand, that what as offend, hecanse the whole is not seen, a part, whether of time or place, gives wherevrith that part admirably harmo- pleasure, is, as a whole, far better ; and nizes." Aug. de Ordine, 1. ii. §. 61. 3 8 Actions of Patriarchs prophetic. CONF. 14. These things I then knew not, nor observed; they struck ~ — — ^ my sight on all sides, and I saw them not. I indited verses, in which I might not place every foot every where, but diiFer- ently in different metres; nor even in any one metre the self-same foot in all places. Yet the art itself, by which I in- dited, had not different principles for these different cases, but comprised all in one. Still 1 saw not how that righteousness, which good and holy men obeyed, did far more excellently and sublimely contain in one all those things which God commanded, and in no part varied; although in varying times it prescribed not every thing at once, but apportioned and enjoined what was fit for each. And I, in my blindness, censured the holy Fathers, not only wherein they made use of things present as God commanded and inspired them, but also wherein they were foretelling things to come, as God was revealing in them*. Mat. 22, [VIII.] 15. Can it at anytime or place be unjust to love ^9- Qod with all his heart, with all his soul, and with all his mind; and his neighbour as himself? Therefore are those foul offences which be against nature, to be every where and at all times detested and punished; such as were those of the men of Sodom: which should all nations commit, they should all stand guilty of the same crime, by the law of God, which hath not so made men, that they should so abuse one another. For even that intercom'se which should be between God and us is violated, when that same nature, of which He is Author, is polluted by the perversity of lust. But those actions which are offences against the customs of men, are to be avoided according to the customs severally prevailing''; so that a thing £ As in typical actions of the Patri- Aug. c. Faust. 1. xxii. o. 24. " God so arohs. "OntMs[thecaluiiuiiesagainstthe accounted of these men, and at that time Patriarchs]Iwouldiirstsay,thatnottheir made them such heralds of His Son, that words only, but their Hfe was prophetic ; not only in what they said, but in what andthatthewholekingdomoftheHebrew they did, or what happened to them, nation was one great prophet, because Christ is sought, Christis found. AWTiat- the prophet of one Great One. Where- ever Scripture saith of Abraham, both forein those among therajWhowej-efoM^A^ happened and is a prophecy." Id. Serm. within by tlie Wisdom of God, (Ps. 89, 2. de Tentat. Abr. %.1. " We know that 12. Vulg.) we must, not in what they said prophecy was given as in words, so in only,hutalsoin what they did, search for deeds. But in deeds and words is the prophecy of the Christ who was to come, resurrection preachedbeforehand." Ter- and His Church; but in the rest of that tail, de Kesurr. Camis, c. 28. nation, coUeetivelyinthosethings, which 1> " Forwhenitwasthecustom, it was were done in them or to them by God. not an oflfenee ; and now it is therefore For all these things, as the Apostle says, an offence, because it is not a custom : were our ensamples." (1 Cor. 10, 6.) for some offences are sins against nature, God to he obeyed in human laws or against them. 39 agreed upon, and confirmed, by custom or law of any city or nation, may not be violated at the lawless pleasure of any, whether native or foreigner. For any part, which harmo- nizeth not with its whole, is offensive. But when God com- mands a thing to be done, against the customs or compact of any people, though it were never by them done heretofoi-e, it is to be done ; and if intermitted, it is to be restored ; and if never ordained, is now to be ordained. For lawful if it be for a king, in the state which he reigns over, to command that, which no one before him, nor he himself heretofore, had commanded, and to obey him cannot be against the common weal of the state; (nay, it were against it if he were not obeyed, for to obey princes, is a general compact of human society;) how much more unhesitatingly ought we to obey God, in all which He commands, the Ruler of all His crea- tures! 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 these either for revenge, as one enemy against another ; or for some proJ^t 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 any thing, 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. These be the heads of iniquity, which spring from the lust of the flesh, i john of the eye, or of rule^, either singly, or two combined, or all to- ^' ^^■ gether; and so do men live ill against the three, and seven ""j some against custom, some against po- f " What unbridled desire doeth to sitive commands." Aug. o. Faust, xxii. corrupt a person's own mind and body 47. "This being so, whatever heretics, is called ' foulness,' [flagitium,] what it Manichees or others, censure the fathers doth to injure another is called an act of the Old Testament for having more of violence, [facinus.] And these two than one wife, are more than sufficiently include all sorts of sins ; but acts of answered ; if they can but understand, foulness come first. And when these that that is no sin, which is not committed have exhausted the mind, and reduced against nature, in that they took these it to a state of emptiness, then it rushes wives with a view to posterity only ; into deeds of violence to remove the nor against custom, in that it was the impediments, or obtain appliances, to practice of those times; nor against any the acts of foulness." Aug. de Doctr. positive command, in that they were Christiana, iii. 16. forbidden by no law." Aug. de Bono g See below, 1. x. o. 30. and note. Conjug. t. 25. S. Augustine (Qusest. in Exod. 1. ii. 40 Self-will and self-love source of all sin. CONF. that psaltery of ien strings, Thy Ten Commandments, O God, pTTij^niost high, and most sweet. But what foul offences can 9. there be against Thee, who canst not be defiled ? or what acts of violence against Thee, who canst not be harmed ? But Thou avengest what men commit against themselves, seeing also when they sin against Thee, they do wickedly Ps. 26, against their own souls, and iniquity gives itself the lie, by yjj con-upting and perverting their nature, which Thou hast created and ordained, or by an immoderate use of things Rom. 1. allowed, or in burning in things unallowed, to that use which is against nature ; or are found guilty, raging with heart and Acts 9, tongue against Thee, kicking against the pricks ; or when, bursting the pale of human society, they boldly joy in ?elf- willed combinations or divisions, according as they have any object to gain or subject of offence. And these things are done when Thou art forsaken, O Fountain of Life, who art the only and true Creator and Governor of the Universe, and by a self-willed pride, any one false thing is selected there- from and loved ''. So then by a humble devoutness we return to Thee ; and Thou cleansest us from our evil habits, and art Ps. 102 merciful to their sins who confess, and hearest the groaning. 20. qf the prisoner, and loosest us firom the chains which we made qu. 71.) mentions the two modes of divid- could be truer than ,tha,t coKeto2MMe«« ?> ing the Ten Commandments, into three the root of all evil, 1 Tim. 6, 10. i. e. and se^en, or four and six, and gives desiring more than is reqwsite. For what appear to have been his own pri- whatis requisite isin each class of things Tate resisons for preferring the first. Both so much as is necessary to maintain commonly existed in his day, but the well-being. For covetousnesa is to be Anglican mode appears to have been the understood not of gold and money only, most usual. It occurs in Origen, Greg, but of all things immoderately desired^ Naz., Jerome, Ambrose, Chrys. S. Aug. in whatsoever things any desireth more alludes to his division again, Serm. 8.9. than is requisite." Aug. de Lib. Arbit. de X chordis, and S. 33 on this Psalm, iii. §. 4S. " This is it which Adam " To the first Commandment there be- and Eve were persuaded to, so that long three strings, because God is Trine, loving too much to be at their own dis- To the other, i. e. the love of our neigh- posal, when they would be equal with hour, seven strings. These let ns join to God, they used amiss, i. «. against the those three, which belong to the love of law of God, that middle state, wherein God, if we would on the psaltery of tea they were subjected to God, and had strings sing a new song. If ye do it out their own bodies in subjection, and thus of love, ye sing a new song j if ye do it lost that which they had received, in from fear, but still do it, ye bear indeed that they sought to, obtain that which the psaltery, but do not yet sing ; but if they had not received." Aug. de Gen. ye do not even this, ye cast away the c. Man. ii. §. 22. psaltery itself. Better even to bear, than ■> " Man's true honor is the image and cast away ; but again, better with joy to likeness of God, which is only retained sing, than to bear as burthensome. Butto by reference to Him by whom it is im- ' sing a new song,' he must be a new pressed. Men cleave then the more to man,'' God, the less they love any thing of their ' " Beyfare thou think not any saying own." Aug. de Trin. xii. 11. Who speak against Truth, fall into gross 6rror. 41 for ourselves, if we lift not up against Thee horns of an unreal liberty, suffering the loss of all, through covetousness of more, by loving more our own private good, than Thee, the Good of all. [IX.] 17. Amidst these offences of foulness and violence, and so many iniquities, are sins of men, who are on the whole mak- ing proficiency ; which by those that judge rightly, are, after the rule of perfection, discommended, yet the persons commended, upon hope of future fruit, as in the green blade of growing com. And there are some, resembling offences of foulness or violence, which yet are no sins ; because they offend neither Thee, our Lord God, nor human society; when, namely, things fitting for a given period are obtained for the service of life, and we know not whether out of a lust of having ; or when things are, for the sake of correction, by constituted authority punished, and we know not whether out of a lust of hurting. Many an action then which in men's sight is disapproved, is by Thy testimony approved: and many, by men praised, are (Thou being witness) condemned: because the shew of the action, and the mind of the doer, and the unknown exigency of the period, severally vary. But when Thou on a sudden commandest an unwonted and unthought- of thing, yea, although Thou hast sometime forbidden it, and still for the time hidest the reason of Thy command, and it be against the ordinance of some society of men, who doubts but it is to be done', seeing that society of men is just which serves Thee ? But blessed are they who know Thy com- mands .'' For all things were done by Thy servants" ; either to shew forth something needful for the present, or to foreshew things to come. [X.] 18. These things I being ignorant of, scoffed at those ' " What then doth Faustus object to Moses might do no other than God had thespoilingofthe Egyptians, notknowing said, so that with the Lord should be the whathesaith? IndoingwhichMosesso counsel to command, with the servant far from sinned, that he had sinned had the obedience to perform." Aug. u. he not done it. For Grod had com- Faust. 1. xxii. c. 71. " We may not manded it, who knoweth not merely from believe of Samson but that he was com- men'a actions, but from their thoughts, manded by Gfofl to destroy himself. But what each should suffer and by whom." — when Gfod commands, and intimates And after assigning a reason, "iheremay clearly and explicitly that He does corn- have been other mosthiddenieasons, why mand, who shall criminate obedience ? this people should have been enjoined who accuse the service of piety?" De this by God, but to Divine commands Civ. Dei, I. i. c. 26. we must yield by obeying, not resist by ■• The Patriarchs. See note on c. 7. disputing. — This Istedfastly affirm, that p. 38. 42 Aug.'s conversion foretold to his Mother in a dream. CONF. Thy holy servants and prophets. And what gained I by — '- scoffing at them, but to be scoffed at by Thee, being in- sensibly and step by step drawn on to those follies, as to believe that a fig-tree wept when it was plucked', and the tree, its mother, shed milky tears? Which fig notwithstanding (plucked by some other's, not his own, guilt') had some (Mani- chsean) saint' eaten, and mingled with his bowels', he should breathe out of it angels, yea, there shall burst forth particles of divinity', at every moan or groan' in his prayer, which particles of the most high and true God had remained bound in that fig, unless they had been set at liberty by the teeth or belly of some " Elect"' saint ! And I, miserable, believed that more mercy was to be shewn to the finits of the earth, than 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 condemned to capital punishment, which should be given him". Ps.144, [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 fi-om 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' imder her eyes in every place where she prayed; yea Thou heardest her. For whence was that dream whereby Thou comfortedst her; so that she allowed me to live with her, and to eat at the same table in the house, which she had begun to shrink firom, abhorring and detesting the blas- phemies 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, herself grieving, and overwhelmed with grief But he having (in order to instruct, as is their wont, not to be instructed) enquired of her the causes of her grief and daily tears, and she answering that she was bewailing my perdition, he bade her rest contented, and told her to look and observe, " That where she was, there was I also." And 1 On tiie Manichsean errors here al- v. fin. luded to, see note A at the end ; §. iii. " He alludes here to that devout man- a and h. ner of the Eastern anciente, who used to •n See note A at the end; §. iii. b. lie flaton their faces In prayer. [Old Ed.] Heretics qften not to be argued with, but prayed for. 43 when she looked, she saw nie standing by her in the same rule. Whence was this, but that Thine ears were towards her heart? O Thou Good omnipotent, who so carest for every- one of us, as if Thou caredst for him only; and so for all, as if they were but one ! 20. Whence was this also, that when she had told me this vision, and I would fain bend it to mean, " That she rather should not despair of being one day what I was ;" she presently, without any hesitation, replies; " No; for it was not told me that, ' where he, there thou also ;' but ' where thou, there he also?'" I confess to Thee, Lord, that to the best of my remembrance, (and I have oft spoken of this,) that Thy answer, through my waking mother, — that she was not perplexed by the plausibility of my false interpretation, and so quickly saw what was to be seen, and which I certainly had not perceived, before she spake, — even then moved me more than the dream itself, by which a joy to the holy woman, to be fulfilled so long after, was, for the consolation of her present anguish, so long before foresignified. For almost nine years passed, in which I wallowed in the mire of that deep pit, and the dark- ness of falsehood, often assaying to rise, but dashed 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 movurning, ceased not at all hours of her devotions to bewail my case unto Thee. And her prayers entered into Thy presence ; and yet Thou Ps, 88, sufferest me to be yet involved and reinvolved in that dark- *• ness. [XII.] 21. Thou gavest her meantime another answer, which I call to mind ; for much I pass by, hasting to those things which more press me to confess unto Thee, and much I do 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 this woman had entreated to vouchsafe 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 per- ceived. For he answered, that I was yet unteachable, being puffed up with the novelty of that heresy, and had already 44 Unceasing prayers and tears never fail. CONF. perplexed divers unskilful persons with captious questions", — .: — ' as she had told him : " but let him alone a while," (saith he,) " only pray God for him, he will of himself by reading find what that eiTor 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 Manichees, and had not only read, but frequently copied out almost all, their books, and had (without any argument or proof from any one) seen how much that sect was to be avoided ; and had avoided it. Which when he had said, and she would not be satisfied, but urged him more, with intreaties and many tears, that he would see me, and discourse with me ; he, a little displeased at her importunity, saith, " Go thy ways, and God bless Thee, for it is not possible that the son of these tears should perish." Which answer she took (as she often mentioned in her conversations with me) as if it had sounded firom heaven. " " Two things principally , whiclirea^ tained, either by my own powers, (what- dily captivate that unguarded age, over- ever they were,) or by other reading, I came me ; one, intimacy, creeping round readily Eiscribed to them alone. So from me with a sort of semblance of good, their discourses there was daily excited entwining itself, like a twisted chain, in me an ardent love for contests, and manifoldly round the neck. The other, from the result of the contests, a love that I had frequently gained a pernicious for them. Thus it happened, that what- victory in disputing with unskilful Chris- ever they said, I strangely assented to tians, who yet would strive eagerly to as true, not because I knew it, but defend their faith as best they might, because I wished it to be true. And so. And this success being very frequent, the although step by step, and cautiously, excitement of youth gained ground, and yet long did I follow men, who preferred recklessly pressed on its energies towards a shining straw to a living soul." (See the great evil of obstinacy. And having note A at the end ; iii. b. v. fin.) Aug. commenced this sort of disputing, after de duab. Anim. c. Manjch. c. 9. I had heard them, whatever ability I at- THE FOURTH BOOK. Aug.'s life from nineteen to eight and twenty; himself a Manichaean, and seducing others to the same heresy; partial obedience amidst vanity and sin, consulting astrologers, only partially shaken herein ; loss of an early friend, who is converted by being baptized when in a swoon ; reflections on grief, on real and unreal friendship, and love of fame; writes on " the fair and fit," yet cannot rightly, though God had given him great talents, since he entertained wrong notions of God ; and so even his knowledge he applied ill. [I.] 1. For this space of nine years then (from my nine- teenth year, to my eight and twentieth) we lived seduced and seducing, deceived and deceiving, in divers lusts; openly, by sciences which they call liberal; secretly, with a false named religion ; here proud, there superstitious, every where vain! Here, hunting after the emptiness of popular praise, down even to theatrical applauses, and poetic prizes, and strifes for grassy garlands, and the 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 iriends, deceived by me, and with me. Let the arrogant mock me, and such as have not been, to their soul's health, stricken and cast down by Thee, O my God; but I would still confess to Thee mine own shame in Thy praise. Suffer me, I beseech Thee, and give me grace to go over in my present remembrance the wanderings of my forepassed time, and to offer unto Thee the sacrifice qf thanksgiving. For what Ps. 49, am I to myself without Thee, but a guide to mine own down- fall''? or what am I even at the best, but an infant sucking the milk Thou givest, and feeding upon Thee, the food that^o^'^^, perisheth not? But what sort of man is any man, seeing he * See note A at the end ; §. iii. a. without superintendence, belongs to God •> " To be happy, by his own power, only." Aug. de Gen. c. Manioh. ii. 5. 46 Sin restrained, but without fixed principle. CONF. is but a man ? Let now the strong and the mighty laugh ' ' at us, but let us poor and needy confess unto Thee. 21. ' [II.] 2. In those years I taught rhetoric, and, overcome by cupidity, made sale of a loquacity to overcome by. Yet I preferred (Lord, Thou knovrest) honest scholars, (as they are accounted,) and these I, without artifice, taught artifices, not to be practised against the life of the guiltless, though some- times for the life of the guilty. And Thou, O God, from afar Is. 42, perceivedst me stumbling in that slippery course, and amid j2 20 ' Kiuch smoke sending out some sparks of faithfulness, which I Ps. 4, 2. shewed in that my guidance of such as loved vanity, and sought after leasing, myself their companion. In those years I had one, — not in that which is called lawful marriage, but whom I had found out in a wayward passion, void of under- standing; yet but one, remaining faithful even to her; in whom I in my own case experienced, what difference there is betwixt the self-restraint of the marriage- covenant, for the sake of issue, and the bargain of a lustful love, where children are bom against their parents' will, although, once bom, they constrain love. 3. 1 remember also, that when I had settled to enter the lists for a theatrical prize, some wizard asked me what I would give him to win : but I, detesting and abhorring such foul mysteries, answered, " Though the garland were of impe- rishable gold, I would not suffer a fly to be killed to gain me it." For he was to kill some living creatures in his sacrifices, and by those honours to invite the devils to favour me. But this ill also I rejected, not out of a pure love" for Thee, O ' " He alone is truly pure, who wait- loveth ; if it love aught beside, it is no eth on God, and keepeth himself to Him pure love. You depart from the immortal alone."Aug.devitaheata,§. 18. "Whoso flame, yoa wiU be chilled, corrupted, seeketh God, is pure, because the soul Do not depart; itwill be thy corruption, hath in God her legitimate Husband, will be fornication in thee." Aug. in Ps. Whosoever seeketh of God any thing 72. §. 32. " The pure fear of the Lord besides God, doth not love God purely. (Ps.l9,9.)isthat,vrherewiththeChnrch, If a wife loved her husband, because the more ardently she loveth her Hus- he is rich, she is not pure, for she band, the more diligently she avoids of- loveth not her husband, but the gold fending Him, and therefore love when of her husband." Aug. Serm. 137. perfected casteth not out this fear, but it "Whoso seeks from God any other remainethforeverandever." Aug. inloc. reward but God, and for it would serve " Under the name of pure fear, is signi- God, esteems what he wishes to receive, fied that will, whereby we must needs more than Him from whom he would be averse from sin, and avoid sin, not receive it. What then? hath God no re- through the constantanxiety of infiirmity, w ard ? None, save Himself. The re- but through the tranquillity of affection." ward of God is God Himself. This it De Civ. Dei, xiv. §. 65. No real love of Ood, without sound faith. 47 God of my heart; for I knew not how to love Thee, who knew not how to conceive aught beyond a material brightness''. And doth not a soul, sighing after such fictions, commit forni- cation against Thee, trust in things unreal', and feed the hos. 12, wind? 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 them, that is, by going astray to become their pleasure and derision ? [III.] 4. Those impostors then, whom they style Mathema- ticians, I consulted without scruple ; because they seemed to use no sacrifice, nor to pray to any spirit for their divinations : which art, however. Christian and true piety consistently re- jects and condemns. For, it is a good thing to confess unto Ps. 41, Thee, and to say. Have mercy upon me, heal my soul, for I have sinned against Thee ; and not to abuse Thy mercy for a license to sin, but to remember the Lord's words. Behold, Johq 5, thou art made whole, sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto thee. All which wholesome advice they labour to destroy, saying, " The cause of thy sin is inevitably deter- mined in heaven;" and " This did Venus, or Saturn, or Mars:" that man, forsooth, flesh and blood, and proud corruption, might be blameless ; while the Creator and Ordainer of heaven and the stars is to bear the blame. And who is He but our God? the very sweetness and well-spring of righteousness, who renderest to every man according to his works: and a Rom. 2, broken and contrite heart wilt Thou not despise. J5 27.' 5. There was in those days a wise man^, very skilful inP|-5i' physic, and renowned therein, who had with his own pro- consular hand put the Agonistic garland upon my distempered head, but not as a physician : for this disease Thou only curest, who resistest the proud, and givest grace to the humble. But 1 Pet. 5, didst Thou fail me even by that old man, or forbear to heal my jjn,_ 4 soul ? For having become more acquainted with him, and hang- 6. * See note A at the end; §. i. a,. sometliing unreal. And if this be, it will « " Who loves what he knows not? no longer be love out of a pure conscience and what is to know God but to behold, andfaith unfeigned." Aug. de Trin. viii. and firmly to perceive Him ? But we 66. must beware, lest the mind believing ' Vindioianus, named below, 1. vii. that it does not see, feign to itself some- c. 6. S. Aug. Ep. 138. §. 3. calls him thing which is not, and hope and love " the great physician of our times." 48 Absolute proof even qf vanity of Divination hard to find. CONF. ing assiduously and fixedly on his speech, (for 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, necessary 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 Hippo- crates, 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, a grave man, would not get his living by deluding people. " But thou," saith he, " hast rhetoric to maintain thyself by, " so that thou foUowest this of free choice, not of necessity : " the more then oughtest thou to give me credit herein, who " laboured 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 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, " corresponding to the business and actions of the demander." 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 derided the whole body of divination, could persuade me 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 rhe- toric in my native town, I had made one my friend, but too S See above, §. 3. not He jests at his friend'' s baptism, and is reproved. 49 dear to me, from a community of pursuits, of mine own age, and, as myself, in the first opening flower of youth. He had grown up of a child with me, and we had been both school- fellows, and play-fellows. But he was not yet my friend as afterwards, nor even then, as true friendship is; for true it cannot be, unless in such as Thou cementest together, cleaving unto Thee, by that love which is shed abroad in our'B.om. s, hearts by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto us. Yet was ' it but too sweet, ripened by the warmth of kindred studies : for, from the true faith (which he as a youth had not soundly and throughlyimbibed,) Ihadwarpedhim 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 with- out him. But behold Thou wert close on the steps of Thy fugitives, at once God of vengeance, and Fountain of mercies, Ps. 94, 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 that my life. 8. Who can recount all Thy praises, which he hath felt in Ps. 106, his one self? What diddest Thou then, my God, and how unsearchable is the abyss of Thy judgments ? For long, sore Ps. 36, sick of a fever, he lay senseless in a death-sweat; and his recovery being despaired of, he was baptized, unknowing; myself meanwhile little regarding, 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 • The Maniolijeans, which S. Aug. " The Maniehseans say that the washing then was, could not hut reject Baptism, of regeneration, i. e. the water itself, is or any rite employing a material suh- superfluous , and with a profane mind stance. They purified matter, not mat- contend that it profits nothing The Ma- ter them. (See note A at fte end ; iii. nichaeans destroy the visible element; the b.) S. Aug. speaks again of his " mock- Pelagians also the invisible mystery, (c. ing" at Baptism in his own case. 2. Epp. Pelag. ii. 2.) " What avails it L. T. §. 16. " They hold ttiat Bap- them (the Pelagians) to confess that bap- tism in water contributes nothing to tism is necessary for all ages, which the the salvation of any, nor do they &ink Manichaeanssayiesuperfluousinall."(ib. that any of those whom they. deceive, iv.4.) " He knows not, or feigns he knows should be baptized." (Aug. de HEeres.) not, that among them [the Maniehseans] 50 God's mercy in the baptism and death of his friend. CONF. would jest with me at that baptism which he had received, -— — '- when utterly absent in mind and feeling, but had now imder- stood that he had received. But he so shrunk from me, as from an enemy; and with a wonderful and sudden freedom bade me, as I would continue his friend, forbear such lan- guage 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 T would. But he was taken away from my phrensy, that with Thee he might be preserved for my comfort; a few days after, in my absence, he was attacked again by the fever, a,nd so departed. 9. At this grief my heart was utterly darkened ; and whatever I beheld was death. My native country was a torment to me, and my father's house a strange unhappiness ; and whatever I had shared with him, wanting him, became a distracting torture. Mine eyes sought him every where, but he was not granted them ; and I hated all places, for that they had not him ; nor could they now tell me, " he is coming," as when he was alive and absent. I became a Ps. 42, great riddle to myself, and I asked my soul, why she was so sad, and why she disquieted me sorely: but she knew not what to answer me. And if I said. Trust in God, she very rightly obeyed me not ; because that most dear friend, whom she had lost, was, being man, both truer and better, than that phantasm *" she was bid to trust in. Only tears were sweet to me, for they succeeded my friend, in the dearest of my affec- tions. [V.] 10. And now, Lord, these things are parsed by, and time hath assuaged my wound. May I learn from Thee, who the name Catechumens does not imply thereby implying that the Manichaeans that any Baptism is in store for them." nsed this mystery. "What was needed c.litt. Petil.iii. 17. These statements are for his argument was, that the Catholics 30 distinct, thatm/ere«ee«from others can used it. The same argument is used by hare no weight. Moreover, in the deMor. Faustus, 1. xxir. and Manes himself, Cath. c. 35. S. Aug. is plainly speaking Ep. ad Menoeh ap. Aug. Op. Imp. of Christians; in the Acta c. Fel. i. 19, iii. 107, although there more plainly as Felix the Manichsean is speaking com- an argumentum ad hominem. It may municative ; " If there is no adversary he, in part, on this account, as a mercy againstGod,whyarewebaptized? "Why to S. Augustine, that God Ahnighty is there an Eucharist, why Christianity, made His sacrament administered to if there is nothing against God.'" He is his unconscious friend, the instrument arguing from conceded facts, and speaks, of his miraculous conversion, generally, in the first person, in the name b See note A at the end ; §. i. a. of the whole body of Christians, without Av^. loathes life and dreads death. 5t art Truth, and approach the ear of my heart unto Thy mouth, that Thou mayest tell me why weeping is sweet to the miserable ? Hast Thou, although present every where, cast away our misery far from Thee ? And Thou abidest in Thy- self, but we are tossed about in divers trials. And yet unless we mourned in Thine ears, we should have no hope left. Whence then is sweet fruit gathered from the bitterness of life, from groaning, tears, sighs, and complaints f Doth this sweeten it, that we hope Thou hearest ? This is true of prayer, for therein is a longing to approach unto Thee. But is it also in grief for a thing lost, and the sorrow wherewith I was then overwhelmed? For I neither hoped he should return to life, nor did I desire this with my tears ; but I wept only and grieved. For I was miserable, and had lost my joy. Or is weeping indeed a bitter thing, and for very loathing of the things. Which we before enjoyed, does it then, when we shrink from them, please us ? [VI.] 11. But what 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 the friendship of perishable things; he is torn asunder when he loses them, and then he feels the wretchedness, which he had, ere yet he lost them. So was it then with me ; I wept most bitterly, and foimd my repose in bitterness. Thus was I wretched, and that wretched life I held 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 Pylades 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 arisen some unexplained feeling, too contrary to this, for at once I loathed exceedingly to live, and feared to die. I sup- pose, the more I loved him,, the more did I hate, and fear (as a most cruel enemy) death, which had bereaved me b " Were any to say, I had rather to be. Give thanks then for that thou die than he unhappy, I should answer, art, which thou dost will, that so what ' Thou speakest false.' For ;now thou thou art against thy will maybe removed * art unhappy, andwiUest not to die, for no from thee. For willingly thou art, but other cause than to be ; so then, though unwillingly art unhappy," Aug. deLib. you will not to be unhappy, you do will Arb. iii. §. 10. E 2 62 Misery increased by distraction. CONF. of him : and I imagined it would speedily make an end of — ^^ — ^all men, since it had power over him. Thus was it with me, I remember. Behold my heart, my God, behold and see into me ; for well I remember it, O my Hope, who cleansest me from the impurity of such affections, directing Ps. 25, mine eyes towards Thee, and plucking my feet out of the snare. For I wondered that others, subject to death, did live, since he whom I loved, as if he 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 '= of his friend, " Thou half of my soul :" for 1 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 therefore per- chance ° I feared to die, lest he whom I had much loved, should die wholly. [VII.] 12. O madness, which knowest not how to love men, like men ! O foolish man that I then was, enduring impatiently the lot of man ! I fretted then, sighed, wept, was distracted ; had neither rest nor counsel. For I bore about a shattered and bleeding soul, impatient of being borne by me, yet where to repose it, I found not. Not in calm groves, not in games and music, nor in fragrant spots, nor in curious banquettings, nor in the pleasures of the bed and the couch; nor (finally) in books or poesy, found it repose. All things looked ghastly, yea, the very light; whatsoever was not what he was, was revolting and hateful, except groaning and tears. For in those alone found I a little refreshment. But when my soul was withdravra 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; the more, since, when I thought of Thee, Thou wert not to me any solid or substantial thing. For Thou wert not Thyself, but a mere phantom', and my error was my God. If I offered to discharge my load thereon, that it might rest, it glided through the void, and came rushing down *" Hor. Carm. 1. i. od. 3. chance I feared," &e. which seems to me "1 Ovid. Trist. 1. ir. Eleg. It. 72. rather an empty declamation than a grave e In confessing the misery of my mind confession, although this folly in it may at the death of my friend, saying, that be somewhat tempered by the addition of our soul was, as it were, made out of ' perchance.' Aug. Ketract. 1. ii. c. 6. two, one, I said, " and therefore per- f See Note A at the end; §. i, a. The world cures grief by sources qf fresh grief. 53 again on me ; and 1 had remained to myself a hapless spot, where I could neither be, nor be from thence. For whither should my heart flee from my heart ? Whither should I flee from myself? Whither not follow myself? And yet I fled out of my country; for so should mine eyes less look for him, where they were not wont to see him. And thus from Thagaste, I came to Carthage. [VIII.] 1 3. Times lose no time ; nor do they roll idly by ; through our senses they work strange operations on the mind. Behold, they went and came day by day, and by coming and going, introduced into my mind other imagin- ations, and other remembrances ; and little by little patched me up again with my old kind of delights, unto which that my sorrow gave way. And yet there succeeded, not indeed other griefs, yet the causes of other griefs *. For whence had that former grief so easily reached my very inmost soul, but that I had poured out my soul upon the dust, in loving one that must die, as if he would never die ? For what restored and re- freshed me. chiefly, was the solaces of other friends, with whom I did love, what instead of Thee I loved: and this was a great fable, and protracted lie, by whose adulterous stimulus, our soul, which lay itching in our ears, was being defiled. But that fable would not 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 discontent, as a man might with his own self; and even with the seldomness of these dissentings, to season our more frequent consentings; sometimes to teach, and sometimes learn ; long for the absent with impatience ; and welcome the coming with joy. These and the like expressions, proceeding out of the hearts of those that loved and were loved again, by the countenance, the tongue, the eyes, and a thousand pleasing gestures, were so much fuel to melt our souls together, and out of many make but one. [IX.] 14. This is it that is loved in friends ; and so loved, that a man's conscience condemns itself, if he love not him that loves him again, or love not again him that loves him, look- S See above, i. 1. below e. 10. 12. §. 18. vi. 16. 54 Amid the changes qfthe creature, rest only in the Creator. CONF. ing for nothing from his person, but indications of his love. — — - Hence that mourning, if one die, and darkenings of sorrows, that steeping of the heart in tears, all sweetness turned to bitterness ; and upon the loss of life of the dying, the death of the living. Blessed whoso loveth Thee, and his friend in Thee, and his enemy for Thee. For he alone loses none dear to him, to whom all are dear in Him Who cannot be Gen. 2, lost. And who is tlus but our God, the God that made 24 Jer. 23 heaven and earth, and Jilleth them, because by filling then* 2*- He created them".? Thee none loseth, but who leaveth. And who leaveth Thee, whither goeth or whither fleeth he, but from Thee well-pleased, to Thee displeased ? For where doth Ps^ii9,he not find Thy law in his own punishment? And Ttiy law John 14 ** truth, and truth Thou. 6- [X.] 15. Turn us, O God of Hosts, shew us Ttiy counte- 19.' ' nance, and we shall be whole. For whithersoever the soul of man turns itself, unless towards Thee, it is rivetted upon sorrows', yea though it is rivetted on things beautiful. And yet they, out of Thee,- and out of the soul, were not, unless they were from Thee. They rise, aind set; and by rising, they begin as it were to be; they grow, that they may be perfected ; aiwl perfected, they wax old and wither; and all grow not old, but all wither. So then when they rise and tend to be, the more quickly they grow that they may be, so much the more they haste not to be. This is the law of them. Thus much hast Thou allotted them, because they are portions of things, which exist not all at once, but by passing away and succeed- ing, they together complete that universe, whereof they are portions. And even thus is our speech completed by signs giving forth a sound : but this again is not perfected unless one word pass away when it hath sounded its part, that another may succeed. Out of all these things let my soul praise Thee, O God, Creator of all ; yet let not my soul be rivetted unto these things with the glue of love, through the senses of the body. For they go whither they were to go, that they might not be ; and they rend her with pestilent longings, because she longs to be, yet loves to repose in what she loves ". But in these things is no place of repose ; they h See above i. 2 and 3. ^ In this life men, with much toil, > See above |. 13. seek test and freedom from care, but God invites us to Him, by the changes around us. 55 abide not, they flee; and who can follow them with the senses of the flesh ? yea, who can grasp them, when they are hard by? For the sense of the flesh is slow, because it is the sense of the flesh; and thereby is it bounded. It sufficeth for that it was made for ; but it sufficeth not to stay things running their course from their appointed starting place to the end appointed. For in Thy Word, by which they 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 too. The Word Itself calleth thee to return : and there is the place of rest imperturbable, where love is not forsaken, if itself forsaketh not. Behold, these things pass away, that others may replace them, and so this lower universe be completed by all his parts. But do I depart any whither ? saith the Word of God. There fix thy dwelling, trust there whatsoever thou hast thence, O my soul, at least now thou art tired out with vanities. Entrust Truth, whatsoever thou hast from the Truth, and thou shalt lose nothing ; and thy decay shall bloom again, and all thy diseases be healed, and Ps. io3, thy mortal parts be re-formed and renewed, and bound around ' thee : nor shall they lay thee whither themselves descend ; but they shall stand fast with thee, and abide for ever before God, who abideth and standeth fastybr ever. i Pet. i, 17. Why then be perverted and follow thy flesh? Be it con- verted and follow thee. Whatever by her thou hast sense of, is in part ; and the whole, whereof these are parts, thou knowest not; and yet they delight thee. But had the sense of thy flesh a capacity for comprehending the whole, and not itself also, for thy punishment, been justly restricted to a part of the whole, thou wouldest, that whatsoever existeth at this present, should pass away, that so the whole might better please thee '. For what we speak also, by the same sense of the -flesh thou hearest ; yet wouldest not thou have the syllables stay, but fly away, that others may come, and thou hear the whole'". And through perverse longings they find it Aug. de Catechiz. Bad. §. 14. not. They wish to find rest in things ' See belovr on 1. xiii. c. 18. whichrest and abidenot, and these, since "For the beauty of the whole discourse they are withdrawn by time and pass is notfrom the single letters, or syllables, away, harass them with fears and sor- but from the whole. Aug. de Gen. o. rows, and will not let them be at rest. Manich. i. 21, 56 All things are in God and so to be loved in God. CONF. so ever, when any one thing is made up of many, all of which — — ^ do not exist together, all collectively would please more than they do severally, could all be perceived collectively. But far better than these, is He who made all ; and He is our God, nor doth He pass away, for neither doth aught succeed Him. [XII.] 18. If bodies please thee, praise God on occasion of them, and turn back thy love upon their Maker "■ ; lest in these things which please thee, thou displease. If souls please thee, be they loved in God : for they too are mutable, but in Him are they firmly stablished ; else would they pass, and pass away. In Him then be they beloved; and carry unto Him along with thee what souls thou canst, and say to them, " Him let us love. Him let us love : He made these, nor is He far off. For He did not make them, and so 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 heai-t 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 ■" Wherever you turn, He speateth their hearts, but because thou wert totheebytraeeSjWhiehHehasimpressed strayed, as a vagabond, from thy ovm upon His works, and by the very forms of heart, so He, who is every where, laid outward things recalls thee, when sink- hold on thee, and recalled thee to thine ing down to things outward. — Woe to own inward self. What then does the them who leave Thee as their guide, and written law cry aloud to such as have go a-stray in the traces of Thee, who, for forsaken the law written in their hearts .' Thee, lovetheseintimationsofThee, and "return to your hearts, ye transgres- forgetwhatThouintimatest! O Wisdom, sors." — What then thou wouldest not Thou most sweet light of the cleansed have done to thee, do not to another, mind; for Thou ceasest not to intimate Thou decidest it to be evil, in that thou to us what and how great Thou art, and wouldest not endure it, and the inward these intimations ofThee is the universal law, written in thy very heart, forces beauty of creation. Aug. de Lib. Arb. ii. thee to know this. Thou didst it, and 16 . men groaned at thy hands ; how art thou " This Good is not placed far from forced to " go back into thy own heart," every one of us ; for in Him we live and when thou endurest it at the hands of move and are. But by love must we others. Aug.- in Ps. 57. §. 1. hold and cleave to Him, that we may P Shame we, since other things are enjoy Him present with us, from, whom only loved as being good, by cleaving we are, who, were He absent, we could to them to cease to love Him, through not even be. Aug. de Trin. viii. §. 5, 6. whom they are good. Aug. de Trin. "Because men seeking things without, viii. 3. become strange even to themselves, the 1 Men revolt not to evil things but in written law also was given them ; not an evil way, i. e. not to evil natures, but because it was not already written in tberefore in an evil way, because agains.t The Son qf Qodhwmbled, that we being htcmbled, might rise. 57 reference to Him, and justly shall it be embittered', because unjustly is any thing loved which is from Him, if He be forsaken for it. To what end then would ye still and still walk these difficult and toilsome ways? There is no rest, where ye seek it. Seek what ye .seek; but it is not there where ye seek. Ye seek a blessed life in the land of death ; it is not there. For how should there be a blessed life, where life itself is not?" 19. " But our true Life came down hither, and bore our death, and slew him, out of the abundance of His own life: and He thundered, calling aloud to us to return hence to Him into that secret place, whence He came forth to us, first into the Virgin's womb, wherein He espoused the human creation, our mortal flesh, that it might not be for ever mortal, and thence like a bridegroom coming out 0/ his chamber, rejoic- Ps. 19, ing as a giant to run his course. For He lingered not, but ran, calling aloud by words, deeds, death, life, descent, ascen-r sion; crying aloud to us to retiu-n unto Him. And He departed from our eyes, that we might return into our heart, and there find Him. For He departed, and lo. He is here. He would not be long with us, yet left us not; for He departed thither, whence He never parted, because the icorld John 1, was made by Him. And in this world He was, and into this , L world He came to save sinners, unto whom my soul confesseth, 1, 15. and He healeth it, for it hath sinned against Him. O ye sons Ps. 41, 0/ men, how long so slow of heart ? Even now, after the descent p . „ of Life to you, will ye not ascend and live ? But whither Vulg! ascend ye, when ye are on high, and set your mouth against ^^- ''3, the heavens? Descend, that ye may ascend', and ascend to the natural order, they go from Him, deserting that whereto the mind should who is the Highest, to things which in a cleave as to its first principle, would lesser degree are. Aug. de Civ. Dei, become and he, asitwere,afirstprinoiple xii. 8. to itself. — There is then, strange to say, ' What so unjust as that good should something in humility, which raises the be with him who deserteth what is good? heart upwards, and something in clarion, Nor can it be. But sometimes the evil which sinks it downwards. — A reverent of the loss of the higher good is not felt, humility makes one subject to him who is through the possession of the lower good, higher ; butnothing is higher than God; which men love. But it is the law of and so humility, which makes subject to Divine justice, that whoso hath with his God, exalts. But a faulty elation, in good-wiU lost what he ought to love, thatitrejects this subjection, sinks down shall with sorrow lose what he hath from Him, than whom nothing is higher, loved. Aug. de Gen. ad litt. viii. 14. and thereby becomes lower. Aug. de » It is a perverted loftiness, when men Civ. Dei, xiv. 13. 58 Ai^. appreciates the beautiful,though not understanding God. CONF. God. For ye have fallen, by ascending against Him'." Tell ' ' them this, that they may weep in the valley of tears, and so 6." ' 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 any thing but the beau- tiful ? What then is the beautiful ? and what is beauty ? What is it that attracts and wins us to the things we love ? for unless there were in them a grace and beauty, they could by no means draw us unto them." And I marked and per- ceived that in bodies themselves, there was a beauty, from their forming a sort of whole, and again, another from apt and mutual correspondence, as of a part of the body with its whole, or a shoe with a foot, and the like. And this consideration, sprang up in my mind, out of my inmost heart, and I wrote " on the fair and fit," I think, two or three books. Thou knowest, O Lord, for it is gone from me; for I have them not, but they are strayed 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 more did he please me, for that he pleased others, who highly extolled him, amazed that out of a Syrian, first instructed in Greek eloquence, should afterwards be formed a wonderful Latin orator, and one most learned in things pertaining unto philosophy. One is com- mended, and, unseen, he is loved: doth this love enter the heart of the hearer from the mouth of the commender ? Not so. But by one who loveth is another kindled. For hence he is loved, who is commended, when the commender is believed to extol him with an unfeigned heart ; that is, when one that loves him, praises him. • By the lowliness of repentance the the whole mortal nature of man was soul recovers her high estate. Aug. de swelled with pride. — Lest then men Lib. Arh. iii. 5. He made a way for us should disdain to follow a humble man, through humility; because through pride God humbled Himself; that even the we had departed from God, we could pride of the human race might not dis- not return but through humility, and one dain to follow the traci of God. Aug. in to take as a pattern we had not. For Ps. 33. Enarr. 1. §. 4. Man a riddle to himself — sees not the truth justhef ore him. 59 22. For so did I then love meu, upon the judgment of men, not Thine, O my God, in Whom no man is deceived. But yet why not for qualities, like those of a famous charioteer, or fighter with beasts in the theatre, known far and wide by a vulgar popularity, but far otherwise, and earnestly, and so as I would be myself commended ? For I would not be com- mended or loved, as actors are, (though I myself did commend and love them,) but had rather be unknown, than so known ; and even hated, than so loved. Where now are the impulses to such various and divers kinds of loves laid up in one soul ? Why, since we are equally men, do I love in another what, if I did not hate, I should not spurn and cast from myself? For it holds not, that as a good horse is loved by him, jvho would not, though he might, be that horse, therefore the same may be said of an actor, who shares our nature. Do I then love in a man, what I hate to be, who am a man ? Man himself is a great deep, whose very hairs Thou numberest, O Lord, Mat. 10, and they fall not to the ground ivithout Thee. And yet are the hairs of his head easier to be numbered, than are his feelings, and the beatings of his heart. 23. But that orator was of that sort whom I loved, as wishing to be myself such ; and I en*ed through a swelling pride, and was tossed about with every wind, but yet was steered byEpb. 4, Thee, Hiough very secretly. And whence do I know, and whence do I confidently confess unto Thee, that I had loved him more for the love of his commenders, than for the very things for which he was commended ? Because, had he been unpraised, and these selfsame men had dispraised him, and with dispraise and contempt told the very same things of him, I had never been so kindled and excited to love him. And yet the things had not been other, nor he himself other ; but only the feelings of the relators. See where the impotent soul lies along, that is not yet stayed up by the solidity of truth ! Just as the gales of tongues blow fi-om the breast of the opinionative, so is it carried this way and that, driven forward and backward, and the light is overclouded to it, and the truth unseen. And lo, it is before us. And it was to me a great matter, that my discourse and labours should be known to that man: which should he approve, I were the more kindled; but if he disapproved, my empt/ heart, void of 60 One error hinders from seeing other truth, CONF. Thy solidity, had been wounded. And yet the " fair and — : — '- fit," whereon I wrote to him, I dwelt on with pleasure, and surveyed it, and admired it, though none joined therein. [XV.] 24. But I saw not yet, whereon this weighty matter Ps. 106, tvimed in Thy wisdom, O Thou Omnipotent, who only doest wonders ; and my mind ranged through corporeal forms ; and "fair," I defined and distinguished what is so in itself, and "fit," whose beauty is in correspondence to some other thing : and this I supported by corporeal examples. And I turned to the nature of the mind, but the false notion which I had of spiritual things, let me not see the truth. Yet the force of truth did of itself fiash into mine eyes, and I turned away my panting soyl from incorporeal substance to lineaments, and colours, and bulky magnitudes. And not being able to see these in the mind, I thought 1 could not see my mind. And whereas in virtue I loved peace, and in viciousness I abhorred discord ; in the first I observed an unity, but in the other, a sort of division. And in that unity, I conceived the rational soul, and the nature of truth and of the chief good to consist : but in this division I miserably imagined there to be some un- known substance of irrational life, and the nature of the chief evil, which should not only be a substance", but real life also, and yet not derived from Thee, my God, of whom are all things. And yet that first I called a Monad, as it had been a soul without sex"; but the latter a Duad; — anger, in deeds of violence, and in flagitiousness, lust ; not knowing whereof I spake. For I had not known or learned, that neither was evil a substance, nor our soul that chief and unchangeable good '. 25. For as deeds of violence arise, if that emotion of the soul be corrupted, whence vehement action springs, stirring itself insolently and unrulily ; and lusts, when that affection of the soul is ungovemed, whereby carnal pleasures are drunk in, so do errors and false opinions defile the conversation, " See Note A at the end; §. i. b. " violence" as implying strength may ^ Or " an unintelligent soul;" very be looked on as the male, " lust" was, good MSS. reading " sensu," the majo- in mythology, represented as female; rity, it appears, " sexu ;" if -we read if we take " sensu," it will express the " sexu," the absolute unity of the first living, but unintelligent, soul of the principle, or Monad, may be insisted world, in the Manicheean, as a Panthe- upon, and in the inferior principle, di- istio, system, vided into " violence" and " lust," y See note A at the end; §. ii. a. for Qod repels proud, though earnest, search. 61 if the reasonable soul itself be corrupted ; as it was then in me, who knew not that it must be enlightened by another light, that it may be partaker of truth, seeing itself is not thaf nature of truth. For Thou shall light my candle, O Ps. 18, Lord my God, Thou shall enlighten my darkness: and of Thy^^' fulness have we all received, for Thou art the true Light that le. 9. ' Ughteth every man thai cometh into the world; for in Tliee^^- ^' there is no variableness, neither shadow of change. 26. But I pressed towards Thee, and was thrust from Thee, that I might taste of death : for Thou resistest the proud, i Pet. 5, But what prouder, than for me with a strange madness to4'g ""' maintain myself to be that by nature' which Thou art.? For whereas I was subject to change, (so much being manifest to me, my very desire to become wise, being the wish, of worse to bepome better;) yet chose I rather to imagine Thee subject to change, than myself not to be that which Thou art. There- fore I was repelled by Thee, and Thou resistedst my vain stiff- neckedness, and I imagined corporeal forms, and — myself flesh, I accused flesh''; and, a wind that passeth away, I returned Ps. 78, 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,butbymy vanity devised out of things corporeal. And I was wont to ask Thy faithful little ones, my fellow-citizens, (from whom, unknown to myself, I stood exiled,) I was wont, prating and foolishly, to ask them, " Why then doth the soul err which God created ?" But I would not be asked, " Why then doth God err?" 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 hearken to Thee, and to rejoice John 3, greatly at the Bridegroom^ voice, but could not ; for by the ^^' voices of mine own errors, I was hurried abroad, and through the weight of ray own pride, I was sinking into the lowest pit. 1 See Note A at the end; §. ii. a. 62 Oreat quickness, when relied upon, a hindrance. CONF. For Thou didst not make me to hear joy and gladness, nor p " ' did the hones exult which were not yet humbled. 8. ' [XVI.] 28. And what did it profit me, that scarce twenty years old, a book of Aristotle, which they call the ten Predica- ments, falling into my hands, (on whose very name I hung, as on something great and divine, so often as my rhetoric master of Carthage, and others, accounted learned, mouthed it with cheeks bursting with pride,) I read and understood it unaided.? And on my conferring with others, who said that they scarcely understood it with very able tutors, not only orally explaining it, but drawing many things in sand, they could tell me no more of it than I had learned, reading it by myself And the book appeared to me to speak very clearly of substances, such as " man," and of their qualities, as the figure of a man, of what sort it is ; and stature, how many feet high ; and his relation- ship, whose brother he is ; or where placed ; or when bom ; or whether he stands or sits ; or be shod or armed ; or does, or suffers any thing; and all the innumerable things which might be ranged under these nine Predicaments", of which I have given some specimens, or under that chief Predi- cament of Substance. 29. What did all this further me, seeing it even hindered me } when, imagining whatever was, was comprehended under those ten Predicaments, I essayed in such wise to understand, 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 gi'eat or fair in that it is a body, seeing that, though it were less great or fair, it should not- withstanding be a body. But it was falsehood which of Thee I conceived, not truth ; fictions of my misery, not the realities of Thy Blessedness. For Thou hadst commanded, and it was done in me, that the earth should bring forth briars and thorns to me, and that in the sweat of my brows 1 should eat my bread. 30. And what did it profit me, that all the bopks I could * All the relations of things were these with that wherein they might he comprised by Aristotle under nine heads ; found, or " suhstance," make up the ten quantity ,quality,relation,aotion,passion, qategories or predicaments, whfire, when, situation, clothing; and Piety, not knowledge or talents, enlightens. 63 procure of the so-called liberal arts, I, the vile slave of vile affections, read by myself, and understood ? And I delighted in them, but knew not whence came all, that therein was true or certain. For I had my back to the light, and my face to the things enlightened ; whence my face, with which I discerned the things enlightened, itself was not enlightened. Whatever was written, either on rhetoric, or logic, geometry, music, and arithmetic, by myself without much difficulty or any instructor, I understood. Thou knowest, O Lord my God ; because both quickness of understanding, and acuteness in discerning, is Thy gift: yet did I not thence sacrifice to Thee. So then it served not to my use, but rather to my perdition, since I went about to get so good a portion of my substance into my Luke 15. own keeping; and I kept not my strength for Thee, butj'^*^^' wandered from Thee into a far country, to spend it upon Vulg. harlotries. For what profited me good abilities, not em- ployed to good uses? For I felt not that those arts were attained with great difficulty, even by the studious and ta- lented, until I attempted to explain them to such ; when he most excelled in them, who followed me not altogether slowly. 31. But what did this further me, imagining that Thou, O Lord God, the Truth, wert a vast and bright body, and I a fragment of that body*? Perverseness too great! But such was I. Nor do I blush, O my God, to confess to Thee Thy mercies towards me, and to call upon Thee, who blushed not then to profess to men my blasphemies, and to bark against Thee. What profited me then my nimble wit in those sciences and all those most knotty volumes, unravelled by me, without aid from human instruction; seeing I erred so foully, and with such sacrilegious shamefulness, in the doctrine of piety ? Or what hindrance was a far slower wit to Thy little ones, since they departed not far from Thee, that in the nest of Thy Church they might securely be fledged, and nourish the wings of charity, by the food of a sound faith. O Lord our God, under the shadow of Thy icings let us hope ; protect us, and carry us. Thou wilt carry us both when little, and even to hoar hairs wilt Thou carry us; for our firmness, is. 46, when it is Thou, then is it firmness; but when our own,"*' it is infirmity. Our good ever lives with Thee ; from which * See Note A at the end ; §. i. zi. ii. a. 64 Qod unchangeable, therefore man may return to Him. CONF. when we turn away, we are turned aside. Let us now, O ^' ^^' Lord, return, that we may not be overturned, because with Thee our good lives without any decay, which good art Thou ; nor need we fear, lest there be no place whither to return, be- cause we fell from it : for through our absence, our mansion fell not — Thy eternity. THE FIFTH BOOK. S. Aug/s twenty-ninth year. Faustus, a snare of Satan to many, made an instrument of deliverance to S. Aug., by shewing the ignorance of the Manichees on those things, wherein they professed to have divine knowledge. Aug. gives up all thought of going further among the Manichees : is guided to Rome and Milan, where he hears S. Ambrose, , leaves the Manichees, and becomes again a Catechumen in the Church Catholic. [I.] 1. Acceptthe sacrifice of my confessions from the ministry of my tongue, which Thou hast formed and stirred up to con- fess unto Thy name. Heal Thou all my bones, and let them Ps. 35, say, O Lord, who is like unto Thee ? For he who confesses to Thee, doth not teach Thee what tates place within him ; seeing a closed heart closes not out Thy eye, nor can man's hard-heartedness thrust back Thy hand : for Thou dissolvest it at Thy will in pity or in vengeance, and nothing can hide7&. I9, itself from Thy heat. But let my soul praise Thee, that it ' may love Thee ; and let it confess Thy own mercies to Thee, that it may praise Thee. Thy whole creation ceaseth not, nor is silent in Thy praises ; neither the spirit of man with voice directed unto Thee, nor creation animate or inanimate, by the voice of those who meditate thereon : that so our souls may from their weariness arise towards Thee, leaning" on those things which Thou hast created, and passing on to Thyself, who madest them wonderfully ; and there is refreshment and true strength. [II.] 2. Let the restless, the godless, depart and flee from Thee ; yet Thou seest them, and dividest the darkness. And * " On whatever place a man have i. c. the eyes, ears, and other senses of fallen, thereon he mustlean, that he may the body. These sensible or corporeal rise. Therefore we must lean on those forms children mast of necessity cling to very sensible forms, whereby we are held and love ; the yomig almost of necessity ; back, that we may know those, which thenceforward as age goes on, it is no sense tells us not of. Sensible I call, what longer necessary." Aug. de vera Relig. can be perceived through the senses, u. 24. 66 The wicked, thxmgh they obey not, must serve Ood. CONF. behold, the universe with them is fair, though they are foul ''. — '—^- And how have they injured Thee'? or how have they disgraced"* Thy government, which, from the heaven to this lowest earth, Ps. 139, is just and perfect? For whither fled they, when they fled from Thy presence ? Or where dost not Thou find them ? Gen. 16, But they fled, that they might not see Thee seeing them, wisd. and, blinded, might stumble against Thee ; (because 7%OM_/or- '^' ^^- salcest nothing Thou halt made;) that the unjust, I say, might stumble upon Thee, and justly be hurt; withdrawing them- selves from Thy gentleness, and stumbling at Thy uprightness, and falling upon their own ruggedness. Ignorant, in truth, that Thou art every where. Whom no place encompasseth ! and Thou Ps. 73, alone art near, even to those that remove far from Thee. Let them then be turned, and seek Thee ; because not as they have forsaken their Creator, hast Thou forsaken Thy creation. Let them be turned and seek Thee ; and behold, Thou art there in their heart, in the heart of those that confess to Thee, and cast themselves upon Thee, and weep in Thy bosom, after all their rugged ways. Then dost Thou gently wipe away their tears, and they weep the more, and joy in weeping; even for that Thou, Lord, — not man of flesh and blood, but — Thou, Lord, who madest them, re-makest and comfortest them. But where was I, when I was seeking Thee ? And Thou wert before me, but I had gone away from Thee ; nor did I find myself, how much less Thee ! [III.] 3. I would lay open before my God that nine and twentieth year of mine age. There had then come to Car- thage, a certain Bishop of the Manichees, Faustus" by name, •> " As a picture, wherein a black co- and order of the universe should in any louringoceurs in its proper place,sois the way be deformed, since to their wills of universe beautiful, if any could survey it, whatever sort, though evil, certainfitting notwithstanding the presence of sinners, bounds are assigned to their power, and although, talien by themselves, their the due measure to their deserviugs, so proper deformity makes them hideous." that even with them, thus placed under Aug. de Civ. Dei, xi. 23. the fitting and due order, the universe is ' " Persons are in Scripture called the fair." Aug. de Gen. ad Lit. 1. xi. o. 21. enemies of God, who, not by nature hut « " Faustus, of African origin, born at by sins, oppose His government ; able to Milevis, of a sweet discourse and clever injure, not Him, but, themselves. For wit." Aug. c. Faust. 1. i. init. S. Aug. they are enemies through the will to speaks again of his talent, (whence Aug. resist, not through the power to hurt." the more suspected that he saw through ib. xii. 3. thefallaoyofhisowuarguments,)ib.xvi. ^ " Nor by their wickedness do they 26. and (whereas he claimed exclu- effect that under the rule, power, and sively for the Manichees the Evangelical wisdom ofthe All-ruling God, the beauty blessings on poverty and self-denial,) Discoveries (^science do not lead to God. 67 a great snare of the Devil, and many were entangled by him through that 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 Ii so much regard