AUGUSTINE: CONFESSIONS

Newly translated and edited

by
ALBERT C. OUTLER, Ph.D., D.D.
Professor of Theol ogy
Perki ns School of Theol ogy
Southern Methodi st Uni versi ty
Dal l as, Texas
First published MCMLV
Li brary of Congress Catal og Card Number: 55-5021
Thi s book i s i n the publ i c domai n.
I t was scanned from an uncopyri ghted edi ti on.
Harry Pl anti nga
pl anti ng@cs.pi tt.edu
I ntroduction
LI KE A COLOSSUS BESTRI DI NG TWO WORLDS, Augusti ne stands as the l ast patri sti c
and the fi rst medi eval father of Western Chri sti ani ty. He gathered together and
conserved al l the mai n moti fs of Lati n Chri sti ani ty from Tertul l i an to Ambrose; he
appropri ated the heri tage of Ni cene orthodoxy; he was a Chal cedoni an before
Chal cedon--and he drew al l thi s i nto an unsystemati c synthesi s whi ch i s sti l l our
best mi rror of the heart and mi nd of the Chri sti an communi ty i n the Roman
Empi re. More than thi s, he freel y recei ved and del i beratel y reconsecrated the
rel i gi ous phi l osophy of the Greco-Roman worl d to a new apol ogeti c use i n
mai ntai ni ng the i ntel l i gi bi l i ty of the Chri sti an procl amati on. Yet, even i n hi s rol e as
summator of tradi ti on, he was no mere ecl ecti c. The center of hi s system i s i n the
Hol y Scri ptures, as they ordered and moved hi s heart and mi nd. I t was i n Scri pture
that, fi rst and l ast, Augusti ne found the focus of hi s rel i gi ous authori ty.
At the same ti me, i t was thi s essenti al l y conservati ve geni us who recast the
patri sti c tradi ti on i nto the new pattern by whi ch European Chri sti ani ty woul d be
l argel y shaped and who, wi th rel ati vel y l i ttl e i nterest i n hi stori cal detai l , wrought
out the fi rst comprehensi ve phi l osophy of hi story. Augusti ne regarded hi msel f as
much l ess an i nnovator than a summator. He was l ess a reformer of the Church
than the defender of the Churchs fai th. Hi s own sel f-chosen project was to save
Chri sti ani ty from the di srupti on of heresy and the cal umni es of the pagans, and,
above everythi ng el se, to renew and exal t the fai thful heari ng of the gospel of mans
utter need and Gods abundant grace. But the unforeseen resul t of thi s enterpri se
was to furni sh the moti fs of the Churchs pi ety and doctri ne for the next thousand
years and more. Wherever one touches the Mi ddl e Ages, he fi nds the marks of
Augusti nes i nfl uence, powerful and pervasi ve--even Aqui nas i s more of an
Augusti ni an at heart than a proper Ari stotel i an. I n the Protestant Reformati on,
the evangel i cal el ements i n Augusti nes thought were appeal ed to i n condemnati on
of the corrupti ons of popul ar Cathol i ci sm--yet even those corrupti ons had a certai n
ri ght of appeal to some of the non-evangel i cal aspects of Augusti nes thought and
l i fe. And, sti l l today, i n the i mportant theol ogi cal revi val of our own ti me, the
i nfl uence of Augusti ne i s obvi ousl y one of the most potent and producti ve i mpul ses
at work.
A succi nct characteri zati on of Augusti ne i s i mpossi bl e, not onl y because hi s
thought i s so extraordi nari l y compl ex and hi s exposi tory method so i ncurabl y
di gressi ve, but al so because throughout hi s enti re career there were l i vel y tensi ons
and massi ve prejudi ces i n hi s heart and head. Hi s doctri ne of God hol ds the
Pl oti ni an noti ons of di vi ne uni ty and remoti on i n tensi on wi th the Bi bl i cal emphasi s
upon the soverei gn Gods acti ve i nvol vement i n creati on and redempti on. For al l hi s
devoti on to Jesus Chri st, thi s theol ogy was never adequatel y Chri stocentri c, and
thi s refl ects i tsel f i n many ways i n hi s practi cal concepti on of the Chri sti an l i fe. He
di d not i nvent the doctri nes of ori gi nal si n and semi nal transmi ssi on of gui l t but he
di d set them as cornerstones i n hi s system, matchi ng them wi th a doctri ne of
i nfant bapti sm whi ch cancel s, ex opere operato, bi rth si n and heredi tary gui l t. He
never weari ed of cel ebrati ng Gods abundant mercy and grace--but he was al so ful l y
persuaded that the vast majori ty of manki nd are condemned to a whol l y just and
appal l i ng damnati on. He never deni ed the real i ty of human freedom and never
al l owed the excuse of human i rresponsi bi l i ty before God--but agai nst al l detractors
of the pri macy of Gods grace, he vi gorousl y i nsi sted on both doubl e predesti nati on
and i rresi sti bl e grace.
For al l thi s the Cathol i c Church was ful l y justi fi ed i n gi vi ng Augusti ne hi s
aptest ti tl e, Doctor Gratiae. The central theme i n al l Augusti nes wri ti ngs i s the
soverei gn God of grace and the soverei gn grace of God. Grace, for Augusti ne, i s
Gods freedom to act wi thout any external necessi ty whatsoever--to act i n l ove
beyond human understandi ng or control ; to act i n creati on, judgment, and
redempti on; to gi ve hi s Son freel y as Medi ator and Redeemer; to endue the Church
wi th the i ndwel l i ng power and gui dance of the Hol y Spi ri t; to shape the desti ni es of
al l creati on and the ends of the two human soci eti es, the ci ty of earth and the ci ty
of God. Grace i s Gods unmeri ted l ove and favor, preveni ent and occurrent. I t
touches mans i nmost heart and wi l l . I t gui des and i mpel s the pi l gri mage of those
cal l ed to be fai thful . I t draws and rai ses the soul to repentance, fai th, and prai se. I t
transforms the human wi l l so that i t i s capabl e of doi ng good. I t rel i eves mans
rel i gi ous anxi ety by forgi veness and the gi ft of hope. I t establ i shes the ground of
Chri sti an humi l i ty by abol i shi ng the ground of human pri de. Gods grace became
i ncarnate i n Jesus Chri st, and i t remai ns i mmanent i n the Hol y Spi ri t i n the
Church.
Augusti ne had no system--but he di d have a stabl e and coherent Chri sti an
outl ook. Moreover, he had an unweari ed, ardent concern: mans sal vati on from hi s
hopel ess pl i ght, through the graci ous acti on of Gods redeemi ng l ove. To understand
and i nterpret thi s was hi s one endeavor, and to thi s task he devoted hi s enti re
geni us.
He was, of course, by consci ous i ntent and professi on, a Chri sti an theol ogi an,
a pastor and teacher i n the Chri sti an communi ty. And yet i t has come about that
hi s contri buti ons to the l arger heri tage of Western ci vi l i zati on are hardl y l ess
i mportant than hi s servi ces to the Chri sti an Church. He was far and away the best--
i f not the very fi rst--psychol ogi st i n the anci ent worl d. Hi s observati ons and
descri pti ons of human moti ves and emoti ons, hi s depth anal yses of wi l l and thought
i n thei r i nteracti on, and hi s expl orati on of the i nner nature of the human sel f--these
have establ i shed one of the mai n tradi ti ons i n European concepti ons of human
nature, even down to our own ti me. Augusti ne i s an essenti al source for both
contemporary depth psychol ogy and exi stenti al i st phi l osophy. Hi s vi ew of the shape
and process of human hi story has been more i nfl uenti al than any other si ngl e
source i n the devel opment of the Western tradi ti on whi ch regards pol i ti cal order as
i nextri cabl y i nvol ved i n moral order. Hi s concepti on of a societas as a communi ty
i denti fi ed and hel d together by i ts l oyal ti es and l ove has become an i ntegral part of
the general tradi ti on of Chri sti an soci al teachi ng and the Chri sti an vi si on of
Chri stendom. Hi s metaphysi cal expl orati ons of the probl ems of bei ng, the
character of evi l , the rel ati on of fai th and knowl edge, of wi l l and reason, of ti me and
eterni ty, of creati on and cosmi c order, have not ceased to ani mate and enri ch
vari ous phi l osophi c refl ecti ons throughout the succeedi ng centuri es. At the same
ti me the hal l mark of the Augusti ni an phi l osophy i s i ts i nsi stent demand that
refl ecti ve thought i ssue i n practi cal consequence; no contempl ati on of the end of l i fe
suffi ces unl ess i t di scovers the means by whi ch men are brought to thei r proper
goal s. I n sum, Augusti ne i s one of the very few men who si mpl y cannot be i gnored or
depreci ated i n any esti mate of Western ci vi l i zati on wi thout seri ous di storti on and
i mpoveri shment of ones hi stori cal and rel i gi ous understandi ng.
I n the space of some forty-four years, from hi s conversi on i n Mi l an (A.D. 386)
to hi s death i n Hi ppo Regi us (A.D. 430), Augusti ne wrote--mostl y at di ctati on--a
vast sprawl i ng l i brary of books, sermons, and l etters, the remai ns of whi ch (i n the
Benedi cti ne edi ti on of St. Maur) fi l l fourteen vol umes as they are repri nted i n
Mi gne, Patrologiae cursus completus, Seri es Lati na (Vol s. 32-45). I n hi s ol d age,
Augusti ne revi ewed hi s authorshi p (i n the Retractations) and has l eft us a cri ti cal
revi ew of ni nety-three of hi s works he judged most i mportant. Even a cursory gl ance
at them shows how enormous was hi s range of i nterest. Yet al most everythi ng he
wrote was i n response to a speci fi c probl em or an actual cri si s i n the i mmedi ate
si tuati on. One may mark off si gni fi cant devel opments i n hi s thought over thi s
twoscore years, but one can hardl y mi ss the fundamental consi stency i n hi s enti re
l i fes work. He was never i nterested i n wri ti ng a systemati c summa theologica, and
woul d have been i ncapabl e of produci ng a bal anced di gest of hi s mul ti faceted
teachi ng. Thus, i f he i s to be read wi sel y, he must be read wi del y--and al ways i n
context, wi th due attenti on to the speci fi c ai m i n vi ew i n each parti cul ar treati se.
For the general reader who wi shes to approach Augusti ne as di rectl y as
possi bl e, however, i t i s a useful and fortunate thi ng that at the very begi nni ng of hi s
Chri sti an mi ni stry and then agai n at the very cl i max of i t, Augusti ne set hi msel f to
focus hi s experi ence and thought i nto what were, for hi m, summi ngs up. The resul t
of the fi rst effort i s the Confessions, whi ch i s hi s most fami l i ar and wi del y read
work. The second i s i n the Enchiridion, wri tten more than twenty years l ater. I n the
Confessions, he stands on the threshol d of hi s career i n the Church. I n the
Enchiridion, he stands forth as tri umphant champi on of orthodox Chri sti ani ty. I n
these two works--the nearest equi val ent to summati on i n the whol e of the
Augusti ni an corpus--we can fi nd al l hi s essenti al themes and can sampl e the
characteri sti c fl avor of hi s thought.
Augusti ne was bapti zed by Ambrose at Mi l an duri ng Easterti de, A.D. 387.

A
short ti me l ater hi s mother, Moni ca, di ed at Osti a on the journey back to Afri ca. A
year l ater, Augusti ne was back i n Roman Afri ca l i vi ng i n a monastery at Tagaste,
hi s nati ve town. I n 391, he was ordai ned presbyter i n the church of Hi ppo Regi us (a
smal l coastal town nearby). Here i n 395--wi th grave mi sgi vi ngs on hi s own part (cf.
Sermon CCCLV, 2) and i n actual vi ol ati on of the ei ghth canon of Ni cea (cf. Mansi ,
Sacrorum conciliorum, I I , 671, and I V, 1167)--he was consecrated assi stant bi shop
to the aged Val eri us, whom he succeeded the fol l owi ng year. Shortl y after he
entered i nto hi s epi scopal duti es he began hi s Confessions, compl eti ng them
probabl y i n 398 (cf. De Labri ol l e, I , vi (see Bi bl i ography), and di Capua, Miscellanea
Agostiniana, I I , 678).
Augusti ne had a compl ex moti ve for undertaki ng such a sel f-anal ysi s.
1
Hi s
pi l gri mage of grace had l ed hi m to a most unexpected outcome. Now he fel t a
compel l i ng need to retrace the cruci al turni ngs of the way by whi ch he had come.
And si nce he was sure that i t was Gods grace that had been hi s pri me mover on
that way, i t was a spontaneous expressi on of hi s heart that cast hi s sel f-recol l ecti on
i nto the form of a sustai ned prayer to God.
The Confessions are not Augusti nes autobi ography. They are, i nstead, a
del i berate effort, i n the permi ssi ve atmosphere of Gods fel t presence, to recal l those
cruci al epi sodes and events i n whi ch he can now see and cel ebrate the mysteri ous
acti ons of Gods preveni ent and provi dent grace. Thus he fol l ows the wi ndi ngs of hi s
memory as i t re-presents the upheaval s of hi s youth and the stages of hi s di sorderl y
quest for wi sdom. He omi ts very much i ndeed. Yet he bui l ds hi s successi ve cl i maxes
so ski l l ful l y that the denouement i n Book VI I I i s a vi vi d and bel i evabl e convergence
of i nfl uences, reconstructed and pl aced wi th consummate dramati c ski l l . We see
how Ci ceros Hortensius fi rst awakened hi s thi rst for wi sdom, how the Mani cheans
del uded hi m wi th thei r promi se of true wi sdom, and how the Academi cs upset hi s
confi dence i n certai n knowl edge--how they l oosed hi m from the dogmati sm of the
Mani cheans onl y to confront hi m wi th the opposi te threat that al l knowl edge i s
uncertai n. He shows us (Bk. V, Ch. X, 19) that al most the sol e cause of hi s
1
He had no model s before hi m, for such earl i er wri ti ngs as the Meditations of Marcus Aurel i us and
the autobi ographi cal secti ons i n Hi l ary of Poi ti ers and Cypri an of Carthage have onl y to be compared
wi th the Confessions to see how di fferent they are.
i ntel l ectual perpl exi ty i n rel i gi on was hi s stubborn, materi al i sti c prejudi ce that i f
God exi sted he had to exi st i n a body, and thus had to have extensi on, shape, and
fi ni te rel ati on. He remembers how the Pl atoni sts rescued hi m from thi s
materi al i sm and taught hi m how to thi nk of spi ri tual and i mmateri al real i ty--and
so to become abl e to concei ve of God i n non-dual i sti c categori es. We can fol l ow hi m
i n hi s extraordi nari l y candi d and pl ai n report of hi s Pl oti ni an ecstasy, and hi s
momentary communi on wi th the One (Book VI I ). The Pl atoni sts l i berated hi m
from error, but they coul d not l oose hi m from the fetters of i nconti nence. Thus, wi th
a di vi ded wi l l , he conti nues to seek a stabl e peace i n the Chri sti an fai th whi l e he
stubbornl y cl i ngs to hi s pri de and appetence.
I n Book VI I I , Augusti ne pi l es up a seri es of remembered i nci dents that
i nfl amed hi s desi re to i mi tate those who al ready seemed to have gai ned what he had
so l ong been seeki ng. Fi rst of al l , there had been Ambrose, who embodi ed for
Augusti ne the di gni ty of Chri sti an l earni ng and the majesty of the authori ty of the
Chri sti an Scri ptures. Then Si mpl i ci anus tel l s hi m the movi ng story of Vi ctori nus (a
more famous schol ar than Augusti ne ever hoped to be), who fi nal l y came to the
bapti smal font i n Mi l an as humbl y as any other catechumen. Then, from
Ponti ci anus he hears the story of Antony and about the i ncreasi ng i nfl uence of the
monasti c cal l i ng. The story that sti rs hi m most, perhaps, rel ates the dramati c
conversi on of the two speci al agents of the i mperi al pol i ce i n the garden at Treves-
-two unl i kel y prospects snatched abruptl y from thei r worl dl y ways to the monasti c
l i fe.
He makes i t pl ai n that these exampl es forced hi s own feel i ngs to an
i ntol erabl e tensi on. Hi s i ntel l ectual perpl exi ti es had become resol ved; the vi rtue of
conti nence had been consci ousl y preferred; there was a strong desi re for the storms
of hi s breast to be cal med; he l onged to i mi tate these men who had done what he
coul d not and who were enjoyi ng the peace he l onged for.
But the ol d habi ts were sti l l strong and he coul d not muster a ful l act of the
whol e wi l l to stri ke them down. Then comes the scene i n the Mi l anese garden whi ch
i s an i nteresti ng paral l el to Ponti ci anus story about the garden at Treves. The l ong
struggl e i s recapi tul ated i n a bri ef moment; hi s wi l l struggl es agai nst and wi thi n
i tsel f. The tri vi al di stracti on of a chi l ds voi ce, chanti ng, Tolle, lege, preci pi tates
the resol uti on of the confl i ct. There i s a radi cal shi ft i n mood and wi l l , he turns
eagerl y to the chance text i n Rom. 13:13--and a new spi ri t ri ses i n hi s heart.
After thi s radi cal change, there was onl y one more past event that had to be
rel i ved before hi s personal hi story coul d be seen i n i ts ri ght perspecti ve. Thi s was
the death of hi s mother and the severance of hi s strongest earthl y ti e. Book I X tel l s
us thi s story. The cl i macti c moment i n i t i s, of course, the vi si on at Osti a where
mother and son are upl i fted i n an ecstasy that paral l el s--but al so di ffers
si gni fi cantl y from--the Pl oti ni an vi si on of Book VI I . After thi s, the mother di es and
the son who had l oved her al most too much goes on al one, now uphel d and l ed by a
greater and a wi ser l ove.
We can observe two separate stages i n Augusti nes conversi on. The fi rst
was the dramati c stri ki ng off of the sl avery of i nconti nence and pri de whi ch had so
l ong hel d hi m from deci si ve commi tment to the Chri sti an fai th. The second was the
devel opment of an adequate understandi ng of the Chri sti an fai th i tsel f and hi s
bapti smal confessi on of Jesus Chri st as Lord and Savi our. The former was achi eved
i n the Mi l anese garden. The l atter came more sl owl y and had no dramati c
moment. The di al ogues that Augusti ne wrote at Cassi ci acum the year fol l owi ng hi s
conversi on show few substanti al si gns of a theol ogi cal understandi ng, deci si vel y or
di sti ncti vel y Chri sti an. But by the ti me of hi s ordi nati on to the presbyterate we can
see the basi c l i nes of a comprehensi ve and orthodox theol ogy fi rml y l ai d out.
Augusti ne negl ects to tel l us (i n 398) what had happened i n hi s thought between
385 and 391. He had other questi ons, more i nteresti ng to hi m, wi th whi ch to
wrestl e.
One does not read far i n the Confessions before he recogni zes that the term
confess has a doubl e range of meani ng. On the one hand, i t obvi ousl y refers to the
free acknowl edgment, before God, of the truth one knows about onesel f--and thi s
obvi ousl y meant, for Augusti ne, the confessi on of si ns. But, at the same ti me, and
more i mportantl y, confiteri means to acknowl edge, to God, the truth one knows
about God. To confess, then, i s to prai se and gl ori fy God; i t i s an exerci se i n sel f-
knowl edge and true humi l i ty i n the atmosphere of grace and reconci l i ati on.
Thus the Confessions are by no means compl ete when the personal hi story i s
concl uded at the end of Book I X. There are two more cl osel y rel ated probl ems to be
expl ored: Fi rst, how does the fi ni te sel f fi nd the i nfi ni te God (or, how i s i t found of
hi m?)? And, secondl y, how may we i nterpret Gods acti on i n produci ng thi s created
worl d i n whi ch such personal hi stori es and revel ati ons do occur? Book X, therefore,
i s an expl orati on of mans way to God, a way whi ch begi ns i n sense experi ence but
swi ftl y passes beyond i t, through and beyond the awesome mystery of memory, to
the i neffabl e encounter between God and the soul i n mans i nmost subject-sel f. But
such a journey i s not compl ete unti l the process i s reversed and man has l ooked as
deepl y as may be i nto the mystery of creati on, on whi ch al l our hi story and
experi ence depend. I n Book XI , therefore, we di scover why time i s such a probl em
and how I n the beginning God created the heavens and the earth i s the basi c
formul a of a massi ve Chri sti an metaphysi cal worl d vi ew. I n Books XI I and XI I I ,
Augusti ne el aborates, i n l ovi ng pati ence and wi th consi derabl e al l egori cal l i cense,
the mysteri es of creati on--exegeti ng the fi rst chapter of Genesi s, verse by verse,
unti l he i s abl e to rel ate the whol e round of creati on to the poi nt where we can vi ew
the drama of Gods enterpri se i n human hi story on the vast stage of the cosmos
i tsel f. The Creator i s the Redeemer! Mans end and the begi nni ng meet at a si ngl e
poi nt!
The Enchiridion i s a bri efer treati se on the grace of God and represents
Augusti nes ful l y matured theol ogi cal perspecti ve--after the magni fi cent
achi evements of the De Trinitate and the greater part of the De civitate Dei, and
after the tremendous turmoi l of the Pel agi an controversy i n whi ch the doctri ne of
grace was the exact epi center. Someti me i n 421, Augusti ne recei ved a request from
one Laurenti us, a Chri sti an l ayman who was the brother of the tri bune Dul ci ti us
(for whom Augusti ne wrote the De octo dulcitii quaestionibus i n 423-425). Thi s
Laurenti us wanted a handbook (enchiridion) that woul d sum up the essenti al
Chri sti an teachi ng i n the bri efest possi bl e form. Augusti ne dryl y comments that the
shortest compl ete summary of the Chri sti an fai th i s that God i s to be served by man
i n fai th, hope, and l ove. Then, acknowl edgi ng that thi s answer mi ght i ndeed be too
bri ef, he proceeds to expand i t i n an essay i n whi ch he tri es unsuccessful l y to
subdue hi s natural di gressi ve manner by i mposi ng on i t a patentl y arti fi ci al
schemati sm. Despi te i ts awkward form, however, the Enchiridion i s one of the most
i mportant of al l of Augusti nes wri ti ngs, for i t i s a consci ous effort of the theol ogi cal
magi strate of the Western Church to stand on fi nal ground of testi mony to the
Chri sti an truth.
For hi s framework, Augusti ne chooses the Apostl es Creed and the Lords
Prayer. The treati se begi ns, natural l y enough, wi th a di scussi on of Gods work i n
creati on. Augusti ne makes a fi rm di sti ncti on between the comparati vel y
uni mportant knowl edge of nature and the supremel y i mportant acknowl edgment of
the Creator of nature. But creati on l i es under the shadow of si n and evi l and
Augusti ne revi ews hi s famous (and borrowed!) doctri ne of the pri vati ve character of
evi l . From thi s he di gresses i nto an extended comment on error and l yi ng as speci al
i nstances of evi l . He then returns to the hopel ess case of fal l en man, to whi ch Gods
whol l y unmeri ted grace has responded i n the i ncarnati on of the Medi ator and
Redeemer, Jesus Chri st. The questi ons about the appropri ati on of Gods grace l ead
natural l y to a di scussi on of bapti sm and justi fi cati on, and beyond these, to the Hol y
Spi ri t and the Church. Augusti ne then sets forth the benefi ts of redeemi ng grace
and wei ghs the bal ance between fai th and good works i n the forgi ven si nner. But
redempti on l ooks forward toward resurrecti on, and Augusti ne feel s he must devote
a good deal of energy and subtl e specul ati on to the questi ons about the manner and
mode of the l i fe everl asti ng. From thi s he moves on to the probl em of the desti ny of
the wi cked and the mystery of predesti nati on. Nor does he shri nk from these gri m
topi cs; i ndeed, he actual l y expands some of hi s most ri gi d i deas of Gods ruthl ess
justi ce toward the damned. Havi ng thus treated the Chri sti an fai th and Chri sti an
hope, he turns i n a too-bri ef concl udi ng secti on to the vi rtue of Chri sti an l ove as the
heart of the Chri sti an l i fe. Thi s, then, i s the handbook on fai th, hope, and l ove
whi ch he hopes Laurence wi l l put to use and not l eave as baggage on hi s
bookshel f.
Taken together, the Confessions and the Enchiridion gi ve us two very
i mportant vantage poi nts from whi ch to vi ew the Augusti ni an perspecti ve as a
whol e, si nce they represent both hi s earl y and hi s mature formul ati on. From them,
we can gai n a competent--though by no means compl ete--i ntroducti on to the heart
and mi nd of thi s great Chri sti an sai nt and sage. There are i mportant di fferences
between the two works, and these ought to be noted by the careful reader. But al l
the mai n themes of Augusti ni an Chri sti ani ty appear i n them, and through them we
can penetrate to i ts i nner dynami c core.
There i s no need to justi fy a new Engl i sh transl ati on of these books, even
though many good ones al ready exi st. Every transl ati on i s, at best, onl y an
approxi mati on--and an i nterpretati on too. There i s smal l hope for a transl ati on to
end al l transl ati ons. Augusti nes Lati n i s, for the most part, comparati vel y easy to
read. One feel s di rectl y the force of hi s constant wordpl ay, the artful bal anci ng of
hi s cl auses, hi s l aconi c use of parataxi s, and hi s del i berate i nvol uti ons of thought
and word order. He was al ways a Lati n rhetor; arti fi ce of styl e had come to be
second nature wi th hi m--even though the Lati n scri ptures were powerful modi fi ers
of hi s cl assi cal l i terary patterns. But i t i s a very tri cky busi ness to convey such a
Lati n styl e i nto anythi ng l i ke modern Engl i sh wi thout consi derabl e vi ol ence one
way or the other. A l i teral renderi ng of the text i s si mpl y not readabl e Engl i sh. And
thi s fal si fi es the text i n another way, for Augusti nes Lati n i s emi nentl y readabl e!
On the other si de, when one resorts to the unavoi dabl e paraphrase there i s al ways
the open questi on as to the poi nt beyond whi ch the thought i tsel f i s bei ng recast. I t
has been my ai m and hope that these transl ati ons wi l l gi ve the reader an accurate
medi um of contact wi th Augusti nes temper and mode of argumentati on. There has
been no thought of tryi ng to contri ve an Engl i sh equi val ent for hi s styl e. I f
Augusti nes i deas come through thi s transl ati on wi th posi ti ve force and cl ari ty,
there can be no seri ous reproach i f i t i s nei ther as el oquent nor as el egant as
Augusti ne i n hi s own l anguage. I n any case, those who wi l l compare thi s transl ati on
wi th the others wi l l get at l east a fai nt noti on of how compl ex and trul y bri l l i ant the
ori gi nal i s!
The sensi ti ve reader soon recogni zes that Augusti ne wi l l not wi l l i ngl y be
i nspected from a di stance or by a neutral observer. I n al l hi s wri ti ngs there i s a
strong concern and movi ng power to i nvol ve hi s reader i n hi s own process of i nqui ry
and perpl exi ty. There i s a mani fest eagerness to have hi m share i n hi s own fl ashes
of i nsi ght and hi s sudden gl i mpses of Gods gl ory. Augusti nes styl e i s deepl y
personal ; i t i s therefore i di omati c, and often col l oqui al . Even i n hi s knotti est
arguments, or i n the l abyri nthi ne mazes of hi s al l egori zi ng (e.g., Confessions, Bk.
XI I I , or Enchiridion, XVI I I ), he seeks to mai ntai n contact wi th hi s reader i n
genui ne respect and openness. He i s never content to seek and fi nd the truth i n
sol i tude. He must enl i st hi s fel l ows i n seei ng and appl yi ng the truth as gi ven. He i s
never the bl i nd fi dei st; even i n the face of mystery, there i s a constant rel i ance on
the l i mi ted but real powers of human reason, and a constant stri vi ng for cl ari ty and
i ntel l i gi bi l i ty. I n thi s sense, he was a consi stent fol l ower of hi s own pri nci pl e of
Chri sti an Socrati sm, devel oped i n the De Magistro and the De catechezandis
rudibus.
Even the best of Augusti nes wri ti ng bears the marks of hi s own ti me and
there i s much i n these ol d books that i s of l i ttl e i nterest to any but the speci al i st.
There are many stones of stumbl i ng i n them for the modern secul ari st--and even for
the modern Chri sti an! Despi te al l thi s, i t i s i mpossi bl e to read hi m wi th any
attenti on at al l wi thout recogni zi ng how hi s geni us and hi s pi ety burst through the
l i mi tati ons of hi s ti mes and hi s l anguage--and even hi s Engl i sh transl ati ons! He
gri ps our hearts and mi nds and enl i sts us i n the great enterpri se to whi ch hi s whol e
l i fe was devoted: the search for and the cel ebrati on of Gods grace and gl ory by
whi ch hi s fai thful chi l dren are sustai ned and gui ded i n thei r pi l gri mage toward the
true Li ght of us al l .
The most useful cri ti cal text of the Confessions i s that of Pi erre de Labri ol l e
(fi fth edi ti on, Pari s, 1950). I have col l ated thi s wi th the other major cri ti cal edi ti ons:
Marti n Skutel l a, S. Aureli Augustini Confessionum Libri Tredecim (Lei pzi g, 1934)--
i tsel f a recensi on of the Corpus Scriptorum ecclesiasticorum Latinorum XXXI I I text
of Pi us Knl l (Vi enna, 1896)--and the second edi ti on of John Gi bb and Wi l l i am
Montgomery (Cambri dge, 1927).
There are two good cri ti cal texts of the Enchiridion and I have col l ated them:
Otto Scheel , Augustins Enchiridion (zwei te Aufl age, Tbi ngen, 1930), and Jean
Ri vi re, Enchiridion i n the Bi bl i othque Augusti ni enne, uvres de S. Augusti n,
premi re sri e: Opuscul es, I X: Exposs gnraux de la foi (Pari s, 1947).
I t remai ns for me to express my appreci ati on to the General Edi tors of thi s
Li brary for thei r constructi ve hel p; to Professor Hol l i s W. Huston, who read the
enti re manuscri pt and made many val uabl e suggesti ons; and to Professor Wi l l i am
A. I rwi n, who greatl y ai ded wi th parts of the Enchiridion. These men share the
credi t for preventi ng many fl aws, but natural l y no responsi bi l i ty for those
remai ni ng. Professors Raymond P. Morri s, of the Yal e Di vi ni ty School Li brary;
Robert Beach, of the Uni on Theol ogi cal Semi nary Li brary; and Decherd Turner, of
our Bri dwel l Li brary here at Southern Methodi st Uni versi ty, were especi al l y
generous i n thei r bi bl i ographi cal assi stance. Last, but not l east, Mrs. Hol l i s W.
Huston and my wi fe, between them, managed the di ffi cul t task of putti ng the
resul ts of thi s project i nto fai r copy. To them al l I am most grateful .
AUGUSTI NES TESTI MONY CONCERNI NG
THE CONFESSI ONS
I . THE Retractations, I I , 6 (A.D. 427)
1. My Confessions, i n thi rteen books, prai se the ri ghteous and good God as
they speak ei ther of my evi l or good, and they are meant to exci te mens mi nds and
affecti ons toward hi m. At l east as far as I am concerned, thi s i s what they di d for me
when they were bei ng wri tten and they sti l l do thi s when read. What some peopl e
thi nk of them i s thei r own affai r [ipse viderint]; but I do know that they have gi ven
pl easure to many of my brethren and sti l l do so. The fi rst through the tenth books
were wri tten about mysel f; the other three about Hol y Scri pture, from what i s
wri tten there, I n the beginning God created the heaven and the earth,
2
even as far as
the reference to the Sabbath rest.
3
2. I n Book I V, when I confessed my soul s mi sery over the death of a fri end
and sai d that our soul had somehow been made one out of two soul s, But i t may
have been that I was afrai d to di e, l est he shoul d then di e whol l y whom I had so
greatl y l oved (Ch. VI , 11)--thi s now seems to be more a tri vi al decl amati on than a
seri ous confessi on, al though thi s i nept expressi on may be tempered somewhat by
the may have been [forte] whi ch I added. And i n Book XI I I what I sai d--The
fi rmament was made between the hi gher waters (and superi or) and the l ower (and
i nferi or) waters--was sai d wi thout suffi ci ent thought. I n any case, the matter i s
very obscure.
Thi s work begi ns thus: Great art thou, O Lord.
I I . De Dono Perseverantiae, XX, 53 (A.D. 428)
Whi ch of my shorter works has been more wi del y known or gi ven greater
pl easure than the [thi rteen] books of my Confessions? And, al though I publ i shed
them l ong before the Pel agi an heresy had even begun to be, i t i s pl ai n that i n them I
sai d to my God, agai n and agai n, Gi ve what thou commandest and command what
thou wi l t. When these words of mi ne were repeated i n Pel agi us presence at Rome
by a certai n brother of mi ne (an epi scopal col l eague), he coul d not bear them and
contradi cted hi m so exci tedl y that they nearl y came to a quarrel . Now what, i ndeed,
does God command, fi rst and foremost, except that we bel i eve i n hi m? Thi s fai th,
therefore, he hi msel f gi ves; so that i t i s wel l sai d to hi m, Gi ve what thou
commandest. Moreover, i n those same books, concerni ng my account of my
conversi on when God turned me to that fai th whi ch I was l ayi ng waste wi th a very
wretched and wi l d verbal assaul t,
4
do you not remember how the narrati on shows
that I was gi ven as a gi ft to the fai thful and dai l y tears of my mother, who had been
promi sed that I shoul d not peri sh? I certai nl y decl ared there that God by hi s grace
turns mens wi l l s to the true fai th when they are not onl y averse to i t, but actual l y
adverse. As for the other ways i n whi ch I sought Gods ai d i n my growth i n
perseverance, you ei ther know or can revi ew them as you wi sh (PL, 45, c. 1025).
I I I . Letter to Darius (A.D. 429)
2
Gen. 1:1.
3
Gen. 2:2.
4
Noti ce the echo here of Acts 9:1.
Thus, my son, take the books of my Confessions and use them as a good man
shoul d--not superfi ci al l y, but as a Chri sti an i n Chri sti an chari ty. Here see me as I
am and do not prai se me for more than I am. Here bel i eve nothi ng el se about me
than my own testi mony. Here observe what I have been i n mysel f and through
mysel f. And i f somethi ng i n me pl eases you, here prai se Hi m wi th me--hi m whom I
desi re to be prai sed on my account and not mysel f. For i t i s he that hath made us
and not we oursel ves.
5
I ndeed, we were oursel ves qui te l ost; but he who made us,
remade us [sed qui fecit, refecit]. As, then, you fi nd me i n these pages, pray for me
that I shal l not fai l but that I may go on to be perfected. Pray for me, my son, pray
for me! (Epist. CCXXXI , PL, 33, c. 1025).
5
Ps. 100:3.
The Confessi ons of Sai nt Augusti ne
BOOK ONE
I n Gods searching presence, Augustine undertakes to plumb the depths of his
memory to trace the mysterious pilgrimage of grace which his life has been--and to
praise God for his constant and omnipotent grace. I n a mood of sustained prayer, he
recalls what he can of his infancy, his learning to speak, and his childhood
experiences in school. He concludes with a paean of grateful praise to God.
CHAPTER I
1. Great art thou, O Lord, and greatl y to be prai sed; great i s thy power, and
i nfi ni te i s thy wi sdom.
6
And man desi res to prai se thee, for he i s a part of thy
creati on; he bears hi s mortal i ty about wi th hi m and carri es the evi dence of hi s si n
and the proof that thou dost resi st the proud. Sti l l he desi res to prai se thee, thi s
man who i s onl y a smal l part of thy creati on. Thou hast prompted hi m, that he
shoul d del i ght to prai se thee, for thou hast made us for thysel f and restl ess i s our
heart unti l i t comes to rest i n thee. Grant me, O Lord, to know and understand
whether fi rst to i nvoke thee or to prai se thee; whether fi rst to know thee or cal l
upon thee. But who can i nvoke thee, knowi ng thee not? For he who knows thee not
may i nvoke thee as another than thou art. I t may be that we shoul d i nvoke thee i n
order that we may come to know thee. But how shal l they cal l on hi m i n whom they
have not bel i eved? Or how shal l they bel i eve wi thout a preacher?
7
Now, they shal l
prai se the Lord who seek hi m,
8
for those who seek shal l fi nd hi m,
9
and, fi ndi ng
hi m, shal l prai se hi m. I wi l l seek thee, O Lord, and cal l upon thee. I cal l upon thee,
O Lord, i n my fai th whi ch thou hast gi ven me, whi ch thou hast i nspi red i n me
through the humani ty of thy Son, and through the mi ni stry of thy preacher.
10
CHAPTER I I
2. And how shal l I cal l upon my God--my God and my Lord? For when I cal l
on hi m I ask hi m to come i nto me. And what pl ace i s there i n me i nto whi ch my God
can come? How coul d God, the God who made both heaven and earth, come i nto me?
I s there anythi ng i n me, O Lord my God, that can contai n thee? Do even the heaven
and the earth, whi ch thou hast made, and i n whi ch thou di dst make me, contai n
thee? I s i t possi bl e that, si nce wi thout thee nothi ng woul d be whi ch does exi st, thou
di dst make i t so that whatever exi sts has some capaci ty to recei ve thee? Why, then,
do I ask thee to come i nto me, si nce I al so am and coul d not be i f thou wert not i n
me? For I am not, after al l , i n hel l --and yet thou art there too, for i f I go down i nto
6
Cf. Ps. 145:3 and Ps. 147:5.
7
Rom. 10:14.
8
Ps. 22:26.
9
Matt. 7:7.
10
A reference to Bi shop Ambrose of Mi l an; see Bk. V, Ch. XI I I ; Bk. VI I I , Ch. 11, 3.
hel l , thou art there.
11
Therefore I woul d not exi st--I woul d si mpl y not be at al l --
unl ess I exi st i n thee, from whom and by whom and i n whom al l thi ngs are. Even so,
Lord; even so. Where do I cal l thee to, when I am al ready i n thee? Or from whence
woul dst thou come i nto me? Where, beyond heaven and earth, coul d I go that there
my God mi ght come to me--he who hath sai d, I fi l l heaven and earth?
12
CHAPTER I I I
3. Si nce, then, thou dost fi l l the heaven and earth, do they contai n thee? Or,
dost thou fi l l and overfl ow them, because they cannot contai n thee? And where dost
thou pour out what remai ns of thee after heaven and earth are ful l ? Or, i ndeed, i s
there no need that thou, who dost contai n al l thi ngs, shoul dst be contai ned by any,
si nce those thi ngs whi ch thou dost fi l l thou fi l l est by contai ni ng them?

For the
vessel s whi ch thou dost fi l l do not confi ne thee, si nce even i f they were broken, thou
woul dst not be poured out. And, when thou art poured out on us, thou art not
thereby brought down; rather, we are upl i fted. Thou art not scattered; rather, thou
dost gather us together. But when thou dost fi l l al l thi ngs, dost thou fi l l them wi th
thy whol e bei ng? Or, si nce not even al l thi ngs together coul d contai n thee
al together, does any one thi ng contai n a si ngl e part, and do al l thi ngs contai n that
same part at the same ti me? Do si ngul ars contai n thee si ngl y? Do greater thi ngs
contai n more of thee, and smal l er thi ngs l ess? Or, i s i t not rather that thou art
whol l y present everywhere, yet i n such a way that nothi ng contai ns thee whol l y?
CHAPTER I V
4. What, therefore, i s my God? What, I ask, but the Lord God? For who i s
Lord but the Lord hi msel f, or who i s God besi des our God?
13
Most hi gh, most
excel l ent, most potent, most omni potent; most merci ful and most just; most secret
and most trul y present; most beauti ful and most strong; stabl e, yet not supported;
unchangeabl e, yet changi ng al l thi ngs; never new, never ol d; maki ng al l thi ngs new,
yet bri ngi ng ol d age upon the proud, and they know i t not; al ways worki ng, ever at
rest; gatheri ng, yet needi ng nothi ng; sustai ni ng, pervadi ng, and protecti ng;
creati ng, nouri shi ng, and devel opi ng; seeki ng, and yet possessi ng al l thi ngs. Thou
dost l ove, but wi thout passi on; art jeal ous, yet free from care; dost repent wi thout
remorse; art angry, yet remai nest serene. Thou changest thy ways, l eavi ng thy
pl ans unchanged; thou recoverest what thou hast never real l y l ost. Thou art never
i n need but sti l l thou dost rejoi ce at thy gai ns; art never greedy, yet demandest
di vi dends. Men pay more than i s requi red so that thou dost become a debtor; yet
who can possess anythi ng at al l whi ch i s not al ready thi ne? Thou owest men
nothi ng, yet payest out to them as i f i n debt to thy creature, and when thou dost
cancel debts thou l osest nothi ng thereby. Yet, O my God, my l i fe, my hol y Joy, what
i s thi s that I have sai d? What can any man say when he speaks of thee? But woe to
them that keep si l ence--si nce even those who say most are dumb.
CHAPTER V
5. Who shal l bri ng me to rest i n thee? Who wi l l send thee i nto my heart so to
overwhel m i t that my si ns shal l be bl otted out and I may embrace thee, my onl y
11
Ps. 139:8.
12
Jer. 23:24.
13
Cf. Ps. 18:31.
good? What art thou to me? Have mercy that I may speak. What am I to thee that
thou shoul dst command me to l ove thee, and i f I do i t not, art angry and threatenest
vast mi sery? I s i t, then, a tri fl i ng sorrow not to l ove thee? I t i s not so to me. Tel l me,
by thy mercy, O Lord, my God, what thou art to me. Say to my soul , I am your
sal vati on.
14
So speak that I may hear. Behol d, the ears of my heart are before thee,
O Lord; open them and say to my soul , I am your sal vati on. I wi l l hasten after that
voi ce, and I wi l l l ay hol d upon thee. Hi de not thy face from me. Even i f I di e, l et me
see thy face l est I di e.
6. The house of my soul i s too narrow for thee to come i n to me; l et i t be
enl arged by thee. I t i s i n rui ns; do thou restore i t. There i s much about i t whi ch
must offend thy eyes; I confess and know i t. But who wi l l cl eanse i t? Or, to whom
shal l I cry but to thee? Cl eanse thou me from my secret faul ts, O Lord, and keep
back thy servant from strange si ns.
15
I bel i eve, and therefore do I speak.
16
But
thou, O Lord, thou knowest. Have I not confessed my transgressi ons unto thee, O
my God; and hast thou not put away the i ni qui ty of my heart?
17
I do not contend i n
judgment wi th thee,
18
who art truth i tsel f; and I woul d not decei ve mysel f, l est my
i ni qui ty l i e even to i tsel f. I do not, therefore, contend i n judgment wi th thee, for i f
thou, Lord, shoul dst mark i ni qui ti es, O Lord, who shal l stand?
19
CHAPTER VI
7. Sti l l , dust and ashes as I am, al l ow me to speak before thy mercy. Al l ow me
to speak, for, behol d, i t i s to thy mercy that I speak and not to a man who scorns me.
Yet perhaps even thou mi ghtest scorn me; but when thou dost turn and attend to
me, thou wi l t have mercy upon me. For what do I wi sh to say, O Lord my God, but
that I know not whence I came hi ther i nto thi s l i fe-i n-death. Or shoul d I cal l i t
death-i n-l i fe? I do not know. And yet the consol ati ons of thy mercy have sustai ned
me from the very begi nni ng, as I have heard from my fl eshl y parents, from whom
and i n whom thou di dst form me i n ti me--for I cannot mysel f remember. Thus even
though they sustai ned me by the consol ati on of womans mi l k, nei ther my mother
nor my nurses fi l l ed thei r own breasts but thou, through them, di dst gi ve me the
food of i nfancy accordi ng to thy ordi nance and thy bounty whi ch underl i e al l thi ngs.
For i t was thou who di dst cause me not to want more than thou gavest and i t was
thou who gavest to those who nouri shed me the wi l l to gi ve me what thou di dst gi ve
them. And they, by an i nsti ncti ve affecti on, were wi l l i ng to gi ve me what thou hadst
suppl i ed abundantl y. I t was, i ndeed, good for them that my good shoul d come
through them, though, i n truth, i t was not from them but by them. For i t i s from
thee, O God, that al l good thi ngs come--and from my God i s al l my heal th. Thi s i s
what I have si nce l earned, as thou hast made i t abundantl y cl ear by al l that I have
seen thee gi ve, both to me and to those around me. For even at the very fi rst I knew
how to suck, to l i e qui et when I was ful l , and to cry when i n pai n--nothi ng more.
8. Afterward I began to l augh--at fi rst i n my sl eep, then when waki ng. For
thi s I have been tol d about mysel f and I bel i eve i t--though I cannot remember i t--for
I see the same thi ngs i n other i nfants. Then, l i ttl e by l i ttl e, I real i zed where I was
and wi shed to tel l my wi shes to those who mi ght sati sfy them, but I coul d not! For
14
Ps. 35:3.
15
Cf. Ps. 19:12, 13.
16
Ps. 116:10.
17
Cf. Ps. 32:5.
18
Cf. Job 9:2.
19
Ps. 130:3.
my wants were i nsi de me, and they were outsi de, and they coul d not by any power
of thei rs come i nto my soul . And so I woul d fl i ng my arms and l egs about and cry,
maki ng the few and feebl e gestures that I coul d, though i ndeed the si gns were not
much l i ke what I i nwardl y desi red and when I was not sati sfi ed--ei ther from not
bei ng understood or because what I got was not good for me--I grew i ndi gnant that
my el ders were not subject to me and that those on whom I actual l y had no cl ai m
di d not wai t on me as sl aves--and I avenged mysel f on them by cryi ng. That i nfants
are l i ke thi s, I have mysel f been abl e to l earn by watchi ng them; and they, though
they knew me not, have shown me better what I was l i ke than my own nurses who
knew me.
9. And, behol d, my i nfancy di ed l ong ago, but I am sti l l l i vi ng. But thou, O
Lord, whose l i fe i s forever and i n whom nothi ng di es--si nce before the worl d was,
i ndeed, before al l that can be cal l ed before, thou wast, and thou art the God and
Lord of al l thy creatures; and wi th thee abi de al l the stabl e causes of al l unstabl e
thi ngs, the unchangi ng sources of al l changeabl e thi ngs, and the eternal reasons of
al l non-rati onal and temporal thi ngs--tel l me, thy suppl i ant, O God, tel l me, O
merci ful One, i n pi ty tel l a pi ti ful creature whether my i nfancy fol l owed yet an
earl i er age of my l i fe that had al ready passed away before i t. Was i t such another
age whi ch I spent i n my mothers womb? For somethi ng of that sort has been
suggested to me, and I have mysel f seen pregnant women. But what, O God, my
Joy, preceded that peri od of l i fe? Was I , i ndeed, anywhere, or anybody? No one can
expl ai n these thi ngs to me, nei ther father nor mother, nor the experi ence of others,
nor my own memory. Dost thou l augh at me for aski ng such thi ngs? Or dost thou
command me to prai se and confess unto thee onl y what I know?
10. I gi ve thanks to thee, O Lord of heaven and earth, gi vi ng prai se to thee for
that fi rst bei ng and my i nfancy of whi ch I have no memory. For thou hast granted to
man that he shoul d come to sel f-knowl edge through the knowl edge of others, and
that he shoul d bel i eve many thi ngs about hi msel f on the authori ty of the
womenfol k. Now, cl earl y, I had l i fe and bei ng; and, as my i nfancy cl osed, I was
al ready l earni ng si gns by whi ch my feel i ngs coul d be communi cated to others.
Whence coul d such a creature come but from thee, O Lord? I s any man
ski l l ful enough to have fashi oned hi msel f? Or i s there any other source from whi ch
bei ng and l i fe coul d fl ow i nto us, save thi s, that thou, O Lord, hast made us--thou
wi th whom bei ng and l i fe are one, si nce thou thysel f art supreme bei ng and
supreme l i fe both together. For thou art i nfi ni te and i n thee there i s no change, nor
an end to thi s present day--al though there i s a sense i n whi ch i t ends i n thee si nce
al l thi ngs are i n thee and there woul d be no such thi ng as days passi ng away unl ess
thou di dst sustai n them. And si nce thy years shal l have no end,
20
thy years are an
ever-present day. And how many of ours and our fathers days have passed through
thi s thy day and have recei ved from i t what measure and fashi on of bei ng they had?
And al l the days to come shal l so recei ve and so pass away. But thou art the
same!
21
And al l the thi ngs of tomorrow and the days yet to come, and al l of
yesterday and the days that are past, thou wi l t gather i nto thi s thy day. What i s i t
to me i f someone does not understand thi s? Let hi m sti l l rejoi ce and conti nue to ask,
What i s thi s? Let hi m al so rejoi ce and prefer to seek thee, even i f he fai l s to fi nd
an answer, rather than to seek an answer and not fi nd thee!
CHAPTER VI I
20
Ps. 102:27.
21
Ps. 102:27.
11. Hear me, O God! Woe to the si ns of men! When a man cri es thus, thou
showest hi m mercy, for thou di dst create the man but not the si n i n hi m. Who
bri ngs to remembrance the si ns of my i nfancy? For i n thy si ght there i s none free
from si n, not even the i nfant who has l i ved but a day upon thi s earth. Who bri ngs
thi s to my remembrance? Does not each l i ttl e one, i n whom I now observe what I no
l onger remember of mysel f? I n what ways, i n that ti me, di d I si n? Was i t that I cri ed
for the breast? I f I shoul d now so cry--not i ndeed for the breast, but for food sui tabl e
to my condi ti on--I shoul d be most justl y l aughed at and rebuked. What I di d then
deserved rebuke but, si nce I coul d not understand those who rebuked me, nei ther
custom nor common sense permi tted me to be rebuked. As we grow we root out and
cast away from us such chi l di sh habi ts. Yet I have not seen anyone who i s wi se who
cast away the good when tryi ng to purge the bad. Nor was i t good, even i n that ti me,
to stri ve to get by cryi ng what, i f i t had been gi ven me, woul d have been hurtful ; or
to be bi tterl y i ndi gnant at those who, because they were ol der--not sl aves, ei ther,
but free--and wi ser than I , woul d not i ndul ge my capri ci ous desi res. Was i t a good
thi ng for me to try, by struggl i ng as hard as I coul d, to harm them for not obeyi ng
me, even when i t woul d have done me harm to have been obeyed? Thus, the i nfants
i nnocence l i es i n the weakness of hi s body and not i n the i nfant mi nd. I have mysel f
observed a baby to be jeal ous, though i t coul d not speak; i t was l i vi d as i t watched
another i nfant at the breast.
Who i s i gnorant of thi s? Mothers and nurses tel l us that they cure these
thi ngs by I know not what remedi es. But i s thi s i nnocence, when the fountai n of
mi l k i s fl owi ng fresh and abundant, that another who needs i t shoul d not be al l owed
to share i t, even though he requi res such nouri shment to sustai n hi s l i fe? Yet we
l ook l eni entl y on such thi ngs, not because they are not faul ts, or even smal l faul ts,
but because they wi l l vani sh as the years pass. For, al though we al l ow for such
thi ngs i n an i nfant, the same thi ngs coul d not be tol erated pati entl y i n an adul t.
12. Therefore, O Lord my God, thou who gavest l i fe to the i nfant, and a body
whi ch, as we see, thou hast furni shed wi th senses, shaped wi th l i mbs, beauti fi ed
wi th form, and endowed wi th al l vi tal energi es for i ts wel l -bei ng and heal th--thou
dost command me to prai se thee for these thi ngs, to gi ve thanks unto the Lord, and
to si ng prai se unto hi s name, O Most Hi gh.
22
For thou art God, omni potent and
good, even i f thou hadst done no more than these thi ngs, whi ch no other but thou
canst do--thou al one who madest al l thi ngs fai r and di dst order everythi ng
accordi ng to thy l aw.
I am l oath to dwel l on thi s part of my l i fe of whi ch, O Lord, I have no
remembrance, about whi ch I must trust the word of others and what I can surmi se
from observi ng other i nfants, even i f such guesses are trustworthy. For i t l i es i n the
deep murk of my forgetful ness and thus i s l i ke the peri od whi ch I passed i n my
mothers womb. But i f I was concei ved i n i ni qui ty, and i n si n my mother nouri shed
me i n her womb,
23
where, I pray thee, O my God, where, O Lord, or when was I ,
thy servant, ever i nnocent? But see now, I pass over that peri od, for what have I to
do wi th a ti me from whi ch I can recal l no memori es?
CHAPTER VI I I
13. Di d I not, then, as I grew out of i nfancy, come next to boyhood, or rather
di d i t not come to me and succeed my i nfancy? My i nfancy di d not go away (for
where woul d i t go?). I t was si mpl y no l onger present; and I was no l onger an i nfant
22
Cf. Ps. 92:1.
23
Cf. Ps. 51:5.
who coul d not speak, but now a chatteri ng boy. I remember thi s, and I have si nce
observed how I l earned to speak. My el ders di d not teach me words by rote, as they
taught me my l etters afterward. But I mysel f, when I was unabl e to communi cate
al l I wi shed to say to whomever I wi shed by means of whi mperi ngs and grunts and
vari ous gestures of my l i mbs (whi ch I used to rei nforce my demands), I mysel f
repeated the sounds al ready stored i n my memory by the mi nd whi ch thou, O my
God, hadst gi ven me. When they cal l ed some thi ng by name and poi nted i t out whi l e
they spoke, I saw i t and real i zed that the thi ng they wi shed to i ndi cate was cal l ed
by the name they then uttered. And what they meant was made pl ai n by the
gestures of thei r bodi es, by a ki nd of natural l anguage, common to al l nati ons, whi ch
expresses i tsel f through changes of countenance, gl ances of the eye, gestures and
i ntonati ons whi ch i ndi cate a di sposi ti on and atti tude--ei ther to seek or to possess, to
reject or to avoi d. So i t was that by frequentl y heari ng words, i n di fferent phrases, I
gradual l y i denti fi ed the objects whi ch the words stood for and, havi ng formed my
mouth to repeat these si gns, I was thereby abl e to express my wi l l . Thus I
exchanged wi th those about me the verbal si gns by whi ch we express our wi shes
and advanced deeper i nto the stormy fel l owshi p of human l i fe, dependi ng al l the
whi l e upon the authori ty of my parents and the behest of my el ders.
CHAPTER I X
14. O my God! What mi seri es and mockeri es di d I then experi ence when i t
was i mpressed on me that obedi ence to my teachers was proper to my boyhood
estate i f I was to fl ouri sh i n thi s worl d and di sti ngui sh mysel f i n those tri cks of
speech whi ch woul d gai n honor for me among men, and decei tful ri ches! To thi s end
I was sent to school to get l earni ng, the val ue of whi ch I knew not--wretch that I
was. Yet i f I was sl ow to l earn, I was fl ogged. For thi s was deemed prai seworthy by
our forefathers and many had passed before us i n the same course, and thus had
bui l t up the precedent for the sorrowful road on whi ch we too were compel l ed to
travel , mul ti pl yi ng l abor and sorrow upon the sons of Adam. About thi s ti me, O
Lord, I observed men prayi ng to thee, and I l earned from them to concei ve thee--
after my capaci ty for understandi ng as i t was then--to be some great Bei ng, who,
though not vi si bl e to our senses, was abl e to hear and hel p us. Thus as a boy I began
to pray to thee, my Hel p and my Refuge, and, i n cal l i ng on thee, broke the bands of
my tongue. Smal l as I was, I prayed wi th no sl i ght earnestness that I mi ght not be
beaten at school . And when thou di dst not heed me--for that woul d have been gi vi ng
me over to my fol l y--my el ders and even my parents too, who wi shed me no i l l ,
treated my stri pes as a joke, though they were then a great and gri evous i l l to me.
15. I s there anyone, O Lord, wi th a spi ri t so great, who cl eaves to thee wi th
such steadfast affecti on (or i s there even a ki nd of obtuseness that has the same
effect)--i s there any man who, by cl eavi ng devoutl y to thee, i s endowed wi th so great
a courage that he can regard i ndi fferentl y those racks and hooks and other torture
weapons from whi ch men throughout the worl d pray so ferventl y to be spared; and
can they scorn those who so greatl y fear these torments, just as my parents were
amused at the torments wi th whi ch our teachers puni shed us boys? For we were no
l ess afrai d of our pai ns, nor di d we beseech thee l ess to escape them. Yet, even so,
we were si nni ng by wri ti ng or readi ng or studyi ng l ess than our assi gned l essons.
For I di d not, O Lord, l ack memory or capaci ty, for, by thy wi l l , I possessed
enough for my age. However, my mi nd was absorbed onl y i n pl ay, and I was
puni shed for thi s by those who were doi ng the same thi ngs themsel ves. But the
i dl i ng of our el ders i s cal l ed busi ness; the i dl i ng of boys, though qui te l i ke i t, i s
puni shed by those same el ders, and no one pi ti es ei ther the boys or the men. For
wi l l any common sense observer agree that I was ri ghtl y puni shed as a boy for
pl ayi ng bal l --just because thi s hi ndered me from l earni ng more qui ckl y those
l essons by means of whi ch, as a man, I coul d pl ay at more shameful games? And di d
he by whom I was beaten do anythi ng di fferent? When he was worsted i n some
smal l controversy wi th a fel l ow teacher, he was more tormented by anger and envy
than I was when beaten by a pl aymate i n the bal l game.
CHAPTER X
16. And yet I si nned, O Lord my God, thou rul er and creator of al l natural
thi ngs--but of si ns onl y the rul er--I si nned, O Lord my God, i n acti ng agai nst the
precepts of my parents and of those teachers. For thi s l earni ng whi ch they wi shed
me to acqui re--no matter what thei r moti ves were--I mi ght have put to good account
afterward. I di sobeyed them, not because I had chosen a better way, but from a
sheer l ove of pl ay. I l oved the vani ty of vi ctory, and I l oved to have my ears ti ckl ed
wi th l yi ng fabl es, whi ch made them i tch even more ardentl y, and a si mi l ar curi osi ty
gl owed more and more i n my eyes for the shows and sports of my el ders. Yet those
who put on such shows are hel d i n such hi gh repute that al most al l desi re the same
for thei r chi l dren. They are therefore wi l l i ng to have them beaten, i f thei r chi l dhood
games keep them from the studi es by whi ch thei r parents desi re them to grow up to
be abl e to gi ve such shows. Look down on these thi ngs wi th mercy, O Lord, and
del i ver us who now cal l upon thee; del i ver those al so who do not cal l upon thee, that
they may cal l upon thee, and thou mayest del i ver them.
CHAPTER XI
17. Even as a boy I had heard of eternal l i fe promi sed to us through the
humi l i ty of the Lord our God, who came down to vi si t us i n our pri de, and I was
si gned wi th the si gn of hi s cross, and was seasoned wi th hi s sal t even from the
womb of my mother, who greatl y trusted i n thee. Thou di dst see, O Lord, how, once,
whi l e I was sti l l a chi l d, I was suddenl y sei zed wi th stomach pai ns and was at the
poi nt of death--thou di dst see, O my God, for even then thou wast my keeper, wi th
what agi tati on and wi th what fai th I sol i ci ted from the pi ety of my mother and from
thy Church (whi ch i s the mother of us al l ) the bapti sm of thy Chri st, my Lord and
my God. The mother of my fl esh was much perpl exed, for, wi th a heart pure i n thy
fai th, she was al ways i n deep travai l for my eternal sal vati on. I f I had not qui ckl y
recovered, she woul d have provi ded forthwi th for my i ni ti ati on and washi ng by thy
l i fe-gi vi ng sacraments, confessi ng thee, O Lord Jesus, for the forgi veness of si ns. So
my cl eansi ng was deferred, as i f i t were i nevi tabl e that, i f I shoul d l i ve, I woul d be
further pol l uted; and, further, because the gui l t contracted by si n after bapti sm
woul d be sti l l greater and more peri l ous.
Thus, at that ti me, I bel i eved al ong wi th my mother and the whol e
househol d, except my father. But he di d not overcome the i nfl uence of my mothers
pi ety i n me, nor di d he prevent my bel i evi ng i n Chri st, al though he had not yet
bel i eved i n hi m. For i t was her desi re, O my God, that I shoul d acknowl edge thee as
my Father rather than hi m. I n thi s thou di dst ai d her to overcome her husband, to
whom, though hi s superi or, she yi el ded obedi ence. I n thi s way she al so yi el ded
obedi ence to thee, who dost so command.
18. I ask thee, O my God, for I woul d gl adl y know i f i t be thy wi l l , to what
good end my bapti sm was deferred at that ti me? Was i t i ndeed for my good that the
rei ns were sl ackened, as i t were, to encourage me i n si n? Or, were they not
sl ackened? I f not, then why i s i t sti l l di nned i nto our ears on al l si des, Let hi m
al one, l et hi m do as he pl eases, for he i s not yet bapti zed? I n the matter of bodi l y
heal th, no one says, Let hi m al one; l et hi m be worse wounded; for he i s not yet
cured! How much better, then, woul d i t have been for me to have been cured at
once--and i f thereafter, through the di l i gent care of fri ends and mysel f, my soul s
restored heal th had been kept safe i n thy keepi ng, who gave i t i n the fi rst pl ace!
Thi s woul d have been far better, i n truth. But how many and great the waves of
temptati on whi ch appeared to hang over me as I grew out of chi l dhood! These were
foreseen by my mother, and she preferred that the unformed cl ay shoul d be ri sked
to them rather than the cl ay mol ded after Chri sts i mage.
24
CHAPTER XI I
19. But i n thi s ti me of chi l dhood--whi ch was far l ess dreaded for me than my
adol escence--I had no l ove of l earni ng, and hated to be dri ven to i t. Yet I was dri ven
to i t just the same, and good was done for me, even though I di d not do i t wel l , for I
woul d not have l earned i f I had not been forced to i t. For no man does wel l agai nst
hi s wi l l , even i f what he does i s a good thi ng. Nei ther di d they who forced me do
wel l , but the good that was done me came from thee, my God. For they di d not care
about the way i n whi ch I woul d use what they forced me to l earn, and took i t for
granted that i t was to sati sfy the i nordi nate desi res of a ri ch beggary and a
shameful gl ory. But thou, Lord, by whom the hai rs of our head are numbered, di dst
use for my good the error of al l who pushed me on to study: but my error i n not
bei ng wi l l i ng to l earn thou di dst use for my puni shment. And I --though so smal l a
boy yet so great a si nner--was not puni shed wi thout warrant. Thus by the
i nstrumental i ty of those who di d not do wel l , thou di dst wel l for me; and by my own
si n thou di dst justl y puni sh me. For i t i s even as thou hast ordai ned: that every
i nordi nate affecti on bri ngs on i ts own puni shment.
CHAPTER XI I I
20. But what were the causes for my strong di sl i ke of Greek l i terature, whi ch
I studi ed from my boyhood? Even to thi s day I have not ful l y understood them. For
Lati n I l oved exceedi ngl y--not just the rudi ments, but what the grammari ans teach.
For those begi nners l essons i n readi ng, wri ti ng, and reckoni ng, I consi dered no l ess
a burden and pai n than Greek. Yet whence came thi s, unl ess from the si n and
vani ty of thi s l i fe? For I was but fl esh, a wi nd that passeth away and cometh not
agai n.
25
Those fi rst l essons were better, assuredl y, because they were more certai n,
and through them I acqui red, and sti l l retai n, the power of readi ng what I fi nd
wri tten and of wri ti ng for mysel f what I wi l l . I n the other subjects, however, I was
compel l ed to l earn about the wanderi ngs of a certai n Aeneas, obl i vi ous of my own
wanderi ngs, and to weep for Di do dead, who sl ew hersel f for l ove. And al l thi s whi l e
I bore wi th dry eyes my own wretched sel f dyi ng to thee, O God, my l i fe, i n the
mi dst of these thi ngs.
21. For what can be more wretched than the wretch who has no pi ty upon
hi msel f, who sheds tears over Di do, dead for the l ove of Aeneas, but who sheds no
tears for hi s own death i n not l ovi ng thee, O God, l i ght of my heart, and bread of the
i nner mouth of my soul , O power that l i nks together my mi nd wi th my i nmost
thoughts? I di d not l ove thee, and thus commi tted forni cati on agai nst thee.
26
Those
24
I n bapti sm whi ch, Augusti ne bel i eved, establ i shed the effigiem Christi i n the human soul .
25
Cf. Ps. 78:39.
26
Cf. Ps. 72:27.
around me, al so si nni ng, thus cri ed out: Wel l done! Wel l done! The fri endshi p of
thi s worl d i s forni cati on agai nst thee; and Wel l done! Wel l done! i s cri ed unti l one
feel s ashamed not to show hi msel f a man i n thi s way. For my own condi ti on I shed
no tears, though I wept for Di do, who sought death at the swords poi nt,
27
whi l e I
mysel f was seeki ng the l owest rung of thy creati on, havi ng forsaken thee; earth
si nki ng back to earth agai n. And, i f I had been forbi dden to read these poems, I
woul d have gri eved that I was not al l owed to read what gri eved me. Thi s sort of
madness i s consi dered more honorabl e and more frui tful l earni ng than the
begi nners course i n whi ch I l earned to read and wri te.
22. But now, O my God, cry unto my soul , and l et thy truth say to me: Not
so, not so! That fi rst l earni ng was far better. For, obvi ousl y, I woul d rather forget
the wanderi ngs of Aeneas, and al l such thi ngs, than forget how to wri te and read.
Sti l l , over the entrance of the grammar school there hangs a vei l . Thi s i s not so
much the si gn of a coveri ng for a mystery as a curtai n for error. Let them excl ai m
agai nst me--those I no l onger fear--whi l e I confess to thee, my God, what my soul
desi res, and l et me fi nd some rest, for i n bl ami ng my own evi l ways I may come to
l ove thy hol y ways. Nei ther l et those cry out agai nst me who buy and sel l the
baubl es of l i terature. For i f I ask them i f i t i s true, as the poet says, that Aeneas
once came to Carthage, the unl earned wi l l repl y that they do not know and the
l earned wi l l deny that i t i s true. But i f I ask wi th what l etters the name Aeneas i s
wri tten, al l who have ever l earned thi s wi l l answer correctl y, i n accordance wi th the
conventi onal understandi ng men have agreed upon as to these si gns. Agai n, i f I
shoul d ask whi ch woul d cause the greatest i nconveni ence i n our l i fe, i f i t were
forgotten: readi ng and wri ti ng, or these poeti cal fi cti ons, who does not see what
everyone woul d answer who had not enti rel y l ost hi s own memory? I erred, then,
when as a boy I preferred those vai n studi es to these more profi tabl e ones, or rather
l oved the one and hated the other. One and one are two, two and two are four: thi s
was then a trul y hateful song to me. But the wooden horse ful l of i ts armed sol di ers,
and the hol ocaust of Troy, and the spectral i mage of Creusa were al l a most
del i ghtful --and vai n--show!
28
23. But why, then, di d I di sl i ke Greek l earni ng, whi ch was ful l of such tal es?
For Homer was ski l l ful i n i nventi ng such poeti c fi cti ons and i s most sweetl y wanton;
yet when I was a boy, he was most di sagreeabl e to me. I bel i eve that Vi rgi l woul d
have the same effect on Greek boys as Homer di d on me i f they were forced to l earn
hi m. For the tedi um of l earni ng a forei gn l anguage mi ngl ed gal l i nto the sweetness
of those Greci an myths. For I di d not understand a word of the l anguage, and yet I
was dri ven wi th threats and cruel puni shments to l earn i t. There was al so a ti me
when, as an i nfant, I knew no Lati n; but thi s I acqui red wi thout any fear or
tormenti ng, but merel y by bei ng al ert to the bl andi shments of my nurses, the jests
of those who smi l ed on me, and the sporti veness of those who toyed wi th me. I
l earned al l thi s, i ndeed, wi thout bei ng urged by any pressure of puni shment, for my
own heart urged me to bri ng forth i ts own fashi oni ng, whi ch I coul d not do except by
l earni ng words: not from those who taught me but those who tal ked to me, i nto
whose ears I coul d pour forth whatever I coul d fashi on. From thi s i t i s suffi ci entl y
cl ear that a free curi osi ty i s more effecti ve i n l earni ng than a di sci pl i ne based on
fear. Yet, by thy ordi nance, O God, di sci pl i ne i s gi ven to restrai n the excesses of
freedom; thi s ranges from the ferul e of the school master to the tri al s of the martyr
and has the effect of mi ngl i ng for us a whol esome bi tterness, whi ch cal l s us back to
thee from the poi sonous pl easures that fi rst drew us from thee.
27
Aeneid, VI , 457
28
Cf. Aeneid, I I .
CHAPTER XV
24. Hear my prayer, O Lord; l et not my soul fai nt under thy di sci pl i ne, nor l et
me fai nt i n confessi ng unto thee thy merci es, whereby thou hast saved me from al l
my most wi cked ways ti l l thou shoul dst become sweet to me beyond al l the
al l urements that I used to fol l ow. Let me come to l ove thee whol l y, and grasp thy
hand wi th my whol e heart that thou mayest del i ver me from every temptati on, even
unto the l ast. And thus, O Lord, my Ki ng and my God, may al l thi ngs useful that I
l earned as a boy now be offered i n thy servi ce--l et i t be that for thy servi ce I now
speak and wri te and reckon. For when I was l earni ng vai n thi ngs, thou di dst i mpose
thy di sci pl i ne upon me: and thou hast forgi ven me my si n of del i ghti ng i n those
vani ti es. I n those studi es I l earned many a useful word, but these mi ght have been
l earned i n matters not so vai n; and surel y that i s the safe way for youths to wal k i n.
CHAPTER XVI
25. But woe unto you, O torrent of human custom! Who shal l stay your
course? When wi l l you ever run dry? How l ong wi l l you carry down the sons of Eve
i nto that vast and hi deous ocean, whi ch even those who have the Tree (for an ark)
29
can scarcel y pass over? Do I not read i n you the stori es of Jove the thunderer--and
the adul terer?
30
How coul d he be both? But so i t says, and the sham thunder served
as a cl oak for hi m to pl ay at real adul tery. Yet whi ch of our gowned masters wi l l
gi ve a tempered heari ng to a man trai ned i n thei r own school s who cri es out and
says: These were Homers fi cti ons; he transfers thi ngs human to the gods. I coul d
have wi shed that he woul d transfer di vi ne thi ngs to us.
31
But i t woul d have been
more true i f he sai d, These are, i ndeed, hi s fi cti ons, but he attri buted di vi ne
attri butes to si nful men, that cri mes mi ght not be accounted cri mes, and that
whoever commi tted such cri mes mi ght appear to i mi tate the cel esti al gods and not
abandoned men.
26. And yet, O torrent of hel l , the sons of men are sti l l cast i nto you, and they
pay fees for l earni ng al l these thi ngs. And much i s made of i t when thi s goes on i n
the forum under the auspi ces of l aws whi ch gi ve a sal ary over and above the fees.
And you beat agai nst your rocky shore and roar: Here words may be l earned; here
you can attai n the el oquence whi ch i s so necessary to persuade peopl e to your way
of thi nki ng; so hel pful i n unfol di ng your opi ni ons. Veri l y, they seem to argue that
we shoul d never have understood these words, gol den shower, bosom, i ntri gue,
hi ghest heavens, and other such words, i f Terence had not i ntroduced a good-for-
nothi ng youth upon the stage, setti ng up a pi cture of Jove as hi s exampl e of
l ewdness and tel l i ng the tal e
Of Joves descendi ng i n a gol den shower
I nto Danaes bosom...
Wi th a woman to i ntri gue.
29
Lignum i s a common metaphor for the cross; and i t was often joi ned to the fi gure of Noah's ark, as
the means of safe transport from earth to heaven.
30
Thi s apostrophe to "the torrent of human custom" now swi tches i ts focus to the poets who
cel ebrated the phi l anderi ngs of the gods; see De civ. Dei, I I , vi i -xi ; I V, xxvi -xxvi i i .
31
Probabl y a contemporary di sci pl e of Ci cero (or the Academi cs) whom Augusti ne had heard l evy a
rather common phi l osopher's compl ai nt agai nst Ol ympi an rel i gi on and the poeti c myths about i t. Cf.
De Labri ol l e, I , 21 (see Bi bl .).
See how he exci tes hi msel f to l ust, as i f by a heavenl y authori ty, when he says:
Great Jove,
Who shakes the hi ghest heavens wi th hi s thunder;
Shal l I , poor mortal man, not do the same?
I ve done i t, and wi th al l my heart, I m gl ad.
32
These words are not l earned one whi t more easi l y because of thi s vi l eness,
but through them the vi l eness i s more bol dl y perpetrated. I do not bl ame the words,
for they are, as i t were, choi ce and preci ous vessel s, but I do depl ore the wi ne of
error whi ch was poured out to us by teachers al ready drunk. And, unl ess we al so
drank we were beaten, wi thout l i berty of appeal to a sober judge. And yet, O my
God, i n whose presence I can now wi th securi ty recal l thi s, I l earned these thi ngs
wi l l i ngl y and wi th del i ght, and for i t I was cal l ed a boy of good promi se.
CHAPTER XVI I
27. Bear wi th me, O my God, whi l e I speak a l i ttl e of those tal ents, thy gi fts,
and of the fol l i es on whi ch I wasted them. For a l esson was gi ven me that
suffi ci entl y di sturbed my soul , for i n i t there was both hope of prai se and fear of
shame or stri pes. The assi gnment was that I shoul d decl ai m the words of Juno, as
she raged and sorrowed that she coul d not
Bar off I tal y
From al l the approaches of the Teucri an ki ng.
33
I had l earned that Juno had never uttered these words. Yet we were compel l ed to
stray i n the footsteps of these poeti c fi cti ons, and to turn i nto prose what the poet
had sai d i n verse. I n the decl amati on, the boy won most appl ause who most
stri ki ngl y reproduced the passi ons of anger and sorrow accordi ng to the character
of the persons presented and who cl othed i t al l i n the most sui tabl e l anguage. What
i s i t now to me, O my true Li fe, my God, that my decl ai mi ng was appl auded above
that of many of my cl assmates and fel l ow students? Actual l y, was not al l that smoke
and wi nd? Besi des, was there nothi ng el se on whi ch I coul d have exerci sed my wi t
and tongue? Thy prai se, O Lord, thy prai ses mi ght have propped up the tendri l s of
my heart by thy Scri ptures; and i t woul d not have been dragged away by these
empty tri fl es, a shameful prey to the spi ri ts of the ai r. For there i s more than one
way i n whi ch men sacri fi ce to the fal l en angel s.
CHAPTER XVI I I
28. But i t was no wonder that I was thus carri ed toward vani ty and was
estranged from thee, O my God, when men were hel d up as model s to me who, when
rel ati ng a deed of thei rs--not i n i tsel f evi l --were covered wi th confusi on i f found
gui l ty of a barbari sm or a sol eci sm; but who coul d tel l of thei r own l i centi ousness
and be appl auded for i t, so l ong as they di d i t i n a ful l and ornate orati on of wel l -
chosen words. Thou seest al l thi s, O Lord, and dost keep si l ence--l ong-sufferi ng,
and pl enteous i n mercy and truth
34
as thou art. Wi l t thou keep si l ence forever?
32
Terence, Eunuch., 584-591; quoted agai n i n De civ. Dei, I I , vi i .
33
Aeneid, I , 38.
34
Cf. Ps. 103:8 and Ps. 86:15.
Even now thou drawest from that vast deep the soul that seeks thee and thi rsts
after thy del i ght, whose heart sai d unto thee, I have sought thy face; thy face,
Lord, wi l l I seek.
35
For I was far from thy face i n the dark shadows of passi on. For
i t i s not by our feet, nor by change of pl ace, that we ei ther turn from thee or return
to thee. That younger son di d not charter horses or chari ots, or shi ps, or fl y away on
vi si bl e wi ngs, or journey by wal ki ng so that i n the far country he mi ght prodi gal l y
waste al l that thou di dst gi ve hi m when he set out.
36
A ki nd Father when thou
gavest; and ki nder sti l l when he returned desti tute! To be wanton, that i s to say, to
be darkened i n heart--thi s i s to be far from thy face.
29. Look down, O Lord God, and see pati entl y, as thou art wont to do, how
di l i gentl y the sons of men observe the conventi onal rul es of l etters and syl l abl es,
taught them by those who l earned thei r l etters beforehand, whi l e they negl ect the
eternal rul es of everl asti ng sal vati on taught by thee. They carry i t so far that i f he
who practi ces or teaches the establ i shed rul es of pronunci ati on shoul d speak
(contrary to grammati cal usage) wi thout aspi rati ng the fi rst syl l abl e of hominem
[ominem, and thus make i t a uman bei ng], he wi l l offend men more than i f he, a
human bei ng, were to hate another human bei ng contrary to thy commandments. I t
i s as i f he shoul d feel that there i s an enemy who coul d be more destructi ve to
hi msel f than that hatred whi ch exci tes hi m agai nst hi s fel l ow man; or that he coul d
destroy hi m whom he hates more compl etel y than he destroys hi s own soul by thi s
same hatred. Now, obvi ousl y, there i s no knowl edge of l etters more i nnate than the
wri ti ng of consci ence--agai nst doi ng unto another what one woul d not have done to
hi msel f.
How mysteri ous thou art, who dwel l est on hi gh
37
i n si l ence. O thou, the
onl y great God, who by an unweari ed l aw hurl est down the penal ty of bl i ndness to
unl awful desi re! When a man seeki ng the reputati on of el oquence stands before a
human judge, whi l e a throngi ng mul ti tude surrounds hi m, and i nvei ghs agai nst hi s
enemy wi th the most fi erce hatred, he takes most vi gi l ant heed that hi s tongue does
not sl i p i n a grammati cal error, for exampl e, and say inter hominibus [i nstead of
inter homines], but he takes no heed l est, i n the fury of hi s spi ri t, he cut off a man
from hi s fel l ow men [ex hominibus].
30. These were the customs i n the mi dst of whi ch I was cast, an unhappy boy.
Thi s was the wrestl i ng arena i n whi ch I was more fearful of perpetrati ng a
barbari sm than, havi ng done so, of envyi ng those who had not. These thi ngs I
decl are and confess to thee, my God. I was appl auded by those whom I then thought
i t my whol e duty to pl ease, for I di d not percei ve the gul f of i nfamy wherei n I was
cast away from thy eyes.
For i n thy eyes, what was more i nfamous than I was al ready, si nce I
di spl eased even my own ki nd and decei ved, wi th endl ess l i es, my tutor, my masters
and parents--al l from a l ove of pl ay, a cravi ng for fri vol ous spectacl es, a stage-struck
restl essness to i mi tate what I saw i n these shows? I pi l fered from my parents cel l ar
and tabl e, someti mes dri ven by gl uttony, someti mes just to have somethi ng to gi ve
to other boys i n exchange for thei r baubl es, whi ch they were prepared to sel l even
though they l i ked them as wel l as I . Moreover, i n thi s ki nd of pl ay, I often sought
di shonest vi ctori es, bei ng mysel f conquered by the vai n desi re for pre-emi nence.
And what was I so unwi l l i ng to endure, and what was i t that I censured so vi ol entl y
when I caught anyone, except the very thi ngs I di d to others? And, when I was
mysel f detected and censured, I preferred to quarrel rather than to yi el d. I s thi s the
35
Ps. 27:8.
36
An i nteresti ng mi xed remi ni scence of Enneads, I , 5:8 and Luke 15:13-24.
37
Ps. 123:1.
i nnocence of chi l dhood? I t i s not, O Lord, i t i s not. I entreat thy mercy, O my God,
for these same si ns as we grow ol der are transferred from tutors and masters; they
pass from nuts and bal l s and sparrows, to magi strates and ki ngs, to gol d and l ands
and sl aves, just as the rod i s succeeded by more severe chasti sements. I t was, then,
the fact of humi l i ty i n chi l dhood that thou, O our Ki ng, di dst approve as a symbol of
humi l i ty when thou sai dst, Of such i s the Ki ngdom of Heaven.
38
CHAPTER XI X
31. However, O Lord, to thee most excel l ent and most good, thou Archi tect
and Governor of the uni verse, thanks woul d be due thee, O our God, even i f thou
hadst not wi l l ed that I shoul d survi ve my boyhood. For I exi sted even then; I l i ved
and fel t and was sol i ci tous about my own wel l -bei ng--a trace of that most
mysteri ous uni ty from whence I had my bei ng.
39
I kept watch, by my i nner sense,
over the i ntegri ty of my outer senses, and even i n these tri fl es and al so i n my
thoughts about tri fl es, I l earned to take pl easure i n truth. I was averse to bei ng
decei ved; I had a vi gorous memory; I was gi fted wi th the power of speech, was
softened by fri endshi p, shunned sorrow, meanness, i gnorance. I s not such an
ani mated creature as thi s wonderful and prai seworthy? But al l these are gi fts of my
God; I di d not gi ve them to mysel f. Moreover, they are good, and they al l together
consti tute mysel f. Good, then, i s he that made me, and he i s my God; and before hi m
wi l l I rejoi ce exceedi ngl y for every good gi ft whi ch, even as a boy, I had. But herei n
l ay my si n, that i t was not i n hi m, but i n hi s creatures--mysel f and the rest--that I
sought for pl easures, honors, and truths. And I fel l thereby i nto sorrows, troubl es,
and errors. Thanks be to thee, my joy, my pri de, my confi dence, my God--thanks be
to thee for thy gi fts; but do thou preserve them i n me. For thus wi l t thou preserve
me; and those thi ngs whi ch thou hast gi ven me shal l be devel oped and perfected,
and I mysel f shal l be wi th thee, for from thee i s my bei ng.
38
Matt. 19:14.
39
Another Pl oti ni an echo; cf. Enneads, I I I , 8:10.
BOOK TWO
He concentrates here on his sixteenth year, a year of idleness, lust, and adolescent
mischief. The memory of stealing some pears prompts a deep probing of the motives
and aims of sinful acts. I became to myself a wasteland.
CHAPTER I
1. I wi sh now to revi ew i n memory my past wi ckedness and the carnal
corrupti ons of my soul --not because I sti l l l ove them, but that I may l ove thee, O my
God. For l ove of thy l ove I do thi s, recal l i ng i n the bi tterness of sel f-exami nati on my
wi cked ways, that thou mayest grow sweet to me, thou sweetness wi thout
decepti on! Thou sweetness happy and assured! Thus thou mayest gather me up out
of those fragments i n whi ch I was torn to pi eces, whi l e I turned away from thee, O
Uni ty, and l ost mysel f among the many.
40
For as I became a youth, I l onged to be
sati sfi ed wi th worl dl y thi ngs, and I dared to grow wi l d i n a successi on of vari ous
and shadowy l oves. My form wasted away, and I became corrupt i n thy eyes, yet I
was sti l l pl easi ng to my own eyes--and eager to pl ease the eyes of men.
CHAPTER I I
2. But what was i t that del i ghted me save to l ove and to be l oved? Sti l l I di d
not keep the moderate way of the l ove of mi nd to mi nd--the bri ght path of
fri endshi p. I nstead, the mi sts of passi on steamed up out of the puddl y concupi scence
of the fl esh, and the hot i magi nati on of puberty, and they so obscured and overcast
my heart that I was unabl e to di sti ngui sh pure affecti on from unhol y desi re. Both
boi l ed confusedl y wi thi n me, and dragged my unstabl e youth down over the cl i ffs of
unchaste desi res and pl unged me i nto a gul f of i nfamy. Thy anger had come upon
me, and I knew i t not. I had been deafened by the cl anki ng of the chai ns of my
mortal i ty, the puni shment for my soul s pri de, and I wandered farther from thee,
and thou di dst permi t me to do so. I was tossed to and fro, and wasted, and poured
out, and I boi l ed over i n my forni cati ons--and yet thou di dst hol d thy peace, O my
tardy Joy! Thou di dst sti l l hol d thy peace, and I wandered sti l l farther from thee
i nto more and yet more barren fi el ds of sorrow, i n proud dejecti on and restl ess
l assi tude.
3. I f onl y there had been someone to regul ate my di sorder and turn to my
profi t the fl eeti ng beauti es of the thi ngs around me, and to fi x a bound to thei r
sweetness, so that the ti des of my youth mi ght have spent themsel ves upon the
shore of marri age! Then they mi ght have been tranqui l i zed and sati sfi ed wi th
havi ng chi l dren, as thy l aw prescri bes, O Lord--O thou who dost form the offspri ng
of our death and art abl e al so wi th a tender hand to bl unt the thorns whi ch were
excl uded from thy paradi se!
41
For thy omni potence i s not far from us even when we
are far from thee. Now, on the other hand, I mi ght have gi ven more vi gi l ant heed to
the voi ce from the cl ouds: Neverthel ess, such shal l have troubl e i n the fl esh, but I
spare you,
42
and, I t i s good for a man not to touch a woman,
43
and, He that i s
40
Yet another Pl oti ni an phrase; cf. Enneads, I , 6, 9:1-2.
41
Cf. Gen. 3:18 and De bono conjugali, 8-9, 39-35 (N-PNF, I I I , 396-413).
42
1 Cor. 7:28.
43
1 Cor. 7:1.
unmarri ed cares for the thi ngs that bel ong to the Lord, how he may pl ease the Lord;
but he that i s marri ed cares for the thi ngs that are of the worl d, how he may pl ease
hi s wi fe.
44
I shoul d have l i stened more attenti vel y to these words, and, thus havi ng
been made a eunuch for the Ki ngdom of Heavens sake,
45
I woul d have wi th
greater happi ness expected thy embraces.
4. But, fool that I was, I foamed i n my wi ckedness as the sea and, forsaki ng
thee, fol l owed the rushi ng of my own ti de, and burst out of al l thy bounds. But I di d
not escape thy scourges. For what mortal can do so? Thou wast al ways by me,
merci ful l y angry and fl avori ng al l my unl awful pl easures wi th bi tter di scontent, i n
order that I mi ght seek pl easures free from di scontent. But where coul d I fi nd such
pl easure save i n thee, O Lord--save i n thee, who dost teach us by sorrow, who
woundest us to heal us, and dost ki l l us that we may not di e apart from thee. Where
was I , and how far was I exi l ed from the del i ghts of thy house, i n that si xteenth year
of the age of my fl esh, when the madness of l ust hel d ful l sway i n me--that madness
whi ch grants i ndul gence to human shamel essness, even though i t i s forbi dden by
thy l aws--and I gave mysel f enti rel y to i t? Meanwhi l e, my fami l y took no care to
save me from rui n by marri age, for thei r sol e care was that I shoul d l earn how to
make a powerful speech and become a persuasi ve orator.
CHAPTER I I I
5. Now, i n that year my studi es were i nterrupted. I had come back from
Madaura, a nei ghbori ng ci ty
46
where I had gone to study grammar and rhetori c;
and the money for a further term at Carthage was bei ng got together for me. Thi s
project was more a matter of my fathers ambi ti on than of hi s means, for he was
onl y a poor ci ti zen of Tagaste.
To whom am I narrati ng al l thi s? Not to thee, O my God, but to my own ki nd
i n thy presence--to that smal l part of the human race who may chance to come upon
these wri ti ngs. And to what end? That I and al l who read them may understand
what depths there are from whi ch we are to cry unto thee.
47
For what i s more surel y
heard i n thy ear than a confessi ng heart and a fai thful l i fe?
Who di d not extol and prai se my father, because he went qui te beyond hi s
means to suppl y hi s son wi th the necessary expenses for a far journey i n the
i nterest of hi s educati on? For many far ri cher ci ti zens di d not do so much for thei r
chi l dren. Sti l l , thi s same father troubl ed hi msel f not at al l as to how I was
progressi ng toward thee nor how chaste I was, just so l ong as I was ski l l ful i n
speaki ng--no matter how barren I was to thy ti l l age, O God, who art the one true
and good Lord of my heart, whi ch i s thy fi el d.
48
6. Duri ng that si xteenth year of my age, I l i ved wi th my parents, havi ng a
hol i day from school for a ti me--thi s i dl eness i mposed upon me by my parents
strai tened fi nances. The thornbushes of l ust grew rank about my head, and there
was no hand to root them out. I ndeed, when my father saw me one day at the baths
and percei ved that I was becomi ng a man, and was showi ng the si gns of
adol escence, he joyful l y tol d my mother about i t as i f al ready l ooki ng forward to
44
1 Cor. 7:32, 33.
45
Cf. Matt. 19:12.
46
Twenty mi l es from Tagaste, famed as the bi rthpl ace of Apul ei us, the onl y notabl e cl assi cal author
produced by the provi nce of Afri ca.
47
Another echo of the De profundis (Ps. 130:1)--and the most expl i ci t statement we have from
Augusti ne of hi s moti ve and ai m i n wri ti ng these "confessi ons."
48
Cf. 1 Cor. 3:9.
grandchi l dren, rejoi ci ng i n that sort of i nebri ati on i n whi ch the worl d so often
forgets thee, i ts Creator, and fal l s i n l ove wi th thy creature i nstead of thee--the
i nebri ati on of that i nvi si bl e wi ne of a perverted wi l l whi ch turns and bows down to
i nfamy. But i n my mothers breast thou hadst al ready begun to bui l d thy templ e
and the foundati on of thy hol y habi tati on--whereas my father was onl y a
catechumen, and that but recentl y. She was, therefore, startl ed wi th a hol y fear and
trembl i ng: for though I had not yet been bapti zed, she feared those crooked ways i n
whi ch they wal k who turn thei r backs to thee and not thei r faces.
7. Woe i s me! Do I dare affi rm that thou di dst hol d thy peace, O my God,
whi l e I wandered farther away from thee? Di dst thou real l y then hol d thy peace?
Then whose words were they but thi ne whi ch by my mother, thy fai thful handmai d,
thou di dst pour i nto my ears? None of them, however, sank i nto my heart to make
me do anythi ng. She depl ored and, as I remember, warned me pri vatel y wi th great
sol i ci tude, not to commi t forni cati on; but above al l thi ngs never to defi l e another
mans wi fe. These appeared to me but womani sh counsel s, whi ch I woul d have
bl ushed to obey. Yet they were from thee, and I knew i t not. I thought that thou
wast si l ent and that i t was onl y she who spoke. Yet i t was through her that thou
di dst not keep si l ence toward me; and i n rejecti ng her counsel I was rejecti ng thee--
I , her son, the son of thy handmai d, thy servant.
49
But I di d not real i ze thi s, and
rushed on headl ong wi th such bl i ndness that, among my fri ends, I was ashamed to
be l ess shamel ess than they, when I heard them boasti ng of thei r di sgraceful
expl oi ts--yes, and gl oryi ng al l the more the worse thei r baseness was. What i s
worse, I took pl easure i n such expl oi ts, not for the pl easures sake onl y but mostl y
for prai se. What i s worthy of vi tuperati on except vi ce i tsel f? Yet I made mysel f out
worse than I was, i n order that I mi ght not go l acki ng for prai se. And when i n
anythi ng I had not si nned as the worst ones i n the group, I woul d sti l l say that I
had done what I had not done, i n order not to appear contempti bl e because I was
more i nnocent than they; and not to drop i n thei r esteem because I was more chaste.
8. Behol d wi th what compani ons I wal ked the streets of Babyl on! I rol l ed i n
i ts mi re and l ol l ed about on i t, as i f on a bed of spi ces and preci ous oi ntments. And,
drawi ng me more cl osel y to the very center of that ci ty, my i nvi si bl e enemy trod me
down and seduced me, for I was easy to seduce. My mother had al ready fl ed out of
the mi dst of Babyl on
50
and was progressi ng, al bei t sl owl y, toward i ts outski rts. For
i n counsel i ng me to chasti ty, she di d not bear i n mi nd what her husband had tol d
her about me. And al though she knew that my passi ons were destructi ve even then
and dangerous for the future, she di d not thi nk they shoul d be restrai ned by the
bonds of conjugal affecti on--i f, i ndeed, they coul d not be cut away to the qui ck. She
took no heed of thi s, for she was afrai d l est a wi fe shoul d prove a hi ndrance and a
burden to my hopes. These were not her hopes of the worl d to come, whi ch my
mother had i n thee, but the hope of l earni ng, whi ch both my parents were too
anxi ous that I shoul d acqui re--my father, because he had l i ttl e or no thought of
thee, and onl y vai n thoughts for me; my mother, because she thought that the usual
course of study woul d not onl y be no hi ndrance but actual l y a furtherance toward
my eventual return to thee. Thi s much I conjecture, recal l i ng as wel l as I can the
temperaments of my parents. Meanti me, the rei ns of di sci pl i ne were sl ackened on
me, so that wi thout the restrai nt of due severi ty, I mi ght pl ay at whatsoever I
fanci ed, even to the poi nt of di ssol uteness. And i n al l thi s there was that mi st whi ch
shut out from my si ght the bri ghtness of thy truth, O my God; and my i ni qui ty
49
Ps. 116:16.
50
Cf. Jer. 51:6; 50:8.
bul ged out, as i t were, wi th fatness!
51
CHAPTER I V
9. Theft i s puni shed by thy l aw, O Lord, and by the l aw wri tten i n mens
hearts, whi ch not even i ngrai ned wi ckedness can erase. For what thi ef wi l l tol erate
another thi ef steal i ng from hi m? Even a ri ch thi ef wi l l not tol erate a poor thi ef who
i s dri ven to theft by want. Yet I had a desi re to commi t robbery, and di d so,
compel l ed to i t by nei ther hunger nor poverty, but through a contempt for wel l -
doi ng and a strong i mpul se to i ni qui ty. For I pi l fered somethi ng whi ch I al ready had
i n suffi ci ent measure, and of much better qual i ty. I di d not desi re to enjoy what I
stol e, but onl y the theft and the si n i tsel f.
There was a pear tree cl ose to our own vi neyard, heavi l y l aden wi th frui t,
whi ch was not tempti ng ei ther for i ts col or or for i ts fl avor. Late one ni ght--havi ng
prol onged our games i n the streets unti l then, as our bad habi t was--a group of
young scoundrel s, and I among them, went to shake and rob thi s tree. We carri ed off
a huge l oad of pears, not to eat oursel ves, but to dump out to the hogs, after barel y
tasti ng some of them oursel ves. Doi ng thi s pl eased us al l the more because i t was
forbi dden. Such was my heart, O God, such was my heart--whi ch thou di dst pi ty
even i n that bottoml ess pi t. Behol d, now l et my heart confess to thee what i t was
seeki ng there, when I was bei ng gratui tousl y wanton, havi ng no i nducement to evi l
but the evi l i tsel f. I t was foul , and I l oved i t. I l oved my own undoi ng. I l oved my
error--not that for whi ch I erred but the error i tsel f. A depraved soul , fal l i ng away
from securi ty i n thee to destructi on i n i tsel f, seeki ng nothi ng from the shameful
deed but shame i tsel f.
CHAPTER V
10. Now there i s a comel i ness i n al l beauti ful bodi es, and i n gol d and si l ver
and al l thi ngs. The sense of touch has i ts own power to pl ease and the other senses
fi nd thei r proper objects i n physi cal sensati on. Worl dl y honor al so has i ts own gl ory,
and so do the powers to command and to overcome: and from these there spri ngs up
the desi re for revenge. Yet, i n seeki ng these pl easures, we must not depart from
thee, O Lord, nor devi ate from thy l aw. The l i fe whi ch we l i ve here has i ts own
pecul i ar attracti veness because i t has a certai n measure of comel i ness of i ts own
and a harmony wi th al l these i nferi or val ues. The bond of human fri endshi p has a
sweetness of i ts own, bi ndi ng many soul s together as one. Yet because of these
val ues, si n i s commi tted, because we have an i nordi nate preference for these goods
of a l ower order and negl ect the better and the hi gher good--negl ecti ng thee, O our
Lord God, and thy truth and thy l aw. For these i nferi or val ues have thei r del i ghts,
but not at al l equal to my God, who hath made them al l . For i n hi m do the ri ghteous
del i ght and he i s the sweetness of the upri ght i n heart.
11. When, therefore, we i nqui re why a cri me was commi tted, we do not accept
the expl anati on unl ess i t appears that there was the desi re to obtai n some of those
val ues whi ch we desi gnate i nferi or, or el se a fear of l osi ng them. For trul y they are
beauti ful and comel y, though i n compari son wi th the superi or and cel esti al goods
they are abject and contempti bl e. A man has murdered another man--what was hi s
moti ve? Ei ther he desi red hi s wi fe or hi s property or el se he woul d steal to support
hi msel f; or el se he was afrai d of l osi ng somethi ng to hi m; or el se, havi ng been
i njured, he was burni ng to be revenged. Woul d a man commi t murder wi thout a
51
Cf. Ps. 73:7.
moti ve, taki ng del i ght si mpl y i n the act of murder? Who woul d bel i eve such a thi ng?
Even for that savage and brutal man [Cati l i ne], of whom i t was sai d that he was
gratui tousl y wi cked and cruel , there i s sti l l a moti ve assi gned to hi s deeds. Lest
through i dl eness, he says, hand or heart shoul d grow i nacti ve.
52
And to what
purpose? Why, even thi s: that, havi ng once got possessi on of the ci ty through hi s
practi ce of hi s wi cked ways, he mi ght gai n honors, empi re, and weal th, and thus be
exempt from the fear of the l aws and from fi nanci al di ffi cul ti es i n suppl yi ng the
needs of hi s fami l y--and from the consci ousness of hi s own wi ckedness. So i t seems
that even Cati l i ne hi msel f l oved not hi s own vi l l ai ni es, but somethi ng el se, and i t
was thi s that gave hi m the moti ve for hi s cri mes.
CHAPTER VI
12. What was i t i n you, O theft of mi ne, that I , poor wretch, doted on--you
deed of darkness--i n that si xteenth year of my age? Beauti ful you were not, for you
were a theft. But are you anythi ng at al l , so that I coul d anal yze the case wi th you?
Those pears that we stol e were fai r to the si ght because they were thy creati on, O
Beauty beyond compare, O Creator of al l , O thou good God--God the hi ghest good
and my true good.
53
Those pears were trul y pl easant to the si ght, but i t was not for
them that my mi serabl e soul l usted, for I had an abundance of better pears. I stol e
those si mpl y that I mi ght steal , for, havi ng stol en them, I threw them away. My sol e
grati fi cati on i n them was my own si n, whi ch I was pl eased to enjoy; for, i f any one of
these pears entered my mouth, the onl y good fl avor i t had was my si n i n eati ng i t.
And now, O Lord my God, I ask what i t was i n that theft of mi ne that caused me
such del i ght; for behol d i t had no beauty of i ts own--certai nl y not the sort of beauty
that exi sts i n justi ce and wi sdom, nor such as i s i n the mi nd, memory senses, and
the ani mal l i fe of man; nor yet the ki nd that i s the gl ory and beauty of the stars i n
thei r courses; nor the beauty of the earth, or the sea--teemi ng wi th spawni ng l i fe,
repl aci ng i n bi rth that whi ch di es and decays. I ndeed, i t di d not have that fal se and
shadowy beauty whi ch attends the decepti ons of vi ce.
13. For thus we see pri de weari ng the mask of hi gh-spi ri tedness, al though
onl y thou, O God, art hi gh above al l . Ambi ti on seeks honor and gl ory, whereas onl y
thou shoul dst be honored above al l , and gl ori fi ed forever. The powerful man seeks to
be feared, because of hi s cruel ty; but who ought real l y to be feared but God onl y?
What can be forced away or wi thdrawn out of hi s power--when or where or whi ther
or by whom? The enti cements of the wanton cl ai m the name of l ove; and yet nothi ng
i s more enti ci ng than thy l ove, nor i s anythi ng l oved more heal thful l y than thy
truth, bri ght and beauti ful above al l . Curi osi ty prompts a desi re for knowl edge,
whereas i t i s onl y thou who knowest al l thi ngs supremel y. I ndeed, i gnorance and
fool i shness themsel ves go masked under the names of si mpl i ci ty and i nnocence; yet
there i s no bei ng that has true si mpl i ci ty l i ke thi ne, and none i s i nnocent as thou
art. Thus i t i s that by a si nners own deeds he i s hi msel f harmed. Human sl oth
pretends to l ong for rest, but what sure rest i s there save i n the Lord? Luxury woul d
fai n be cal l ed pl enty and abundance; but thou art the ful l ness and unfai l i ng
abundance of unfadi ng joy. Prodi gal i ty presents a show of l i beral i ty; but thou art
the most l avi sh gi ver of al l good thi ngs. Covetousness desi res to possess much; but
thou art al ready the possessor of al l thi ngs. Envy contends that i ts ai m i s for
excel l ence; but what i s so excel l ent as thou? Anger seeks revenge; but who avenges
more justl y than thou? Fear recoi l s at the unfami l i ar and the sudden changes whi ch
52
Ci cero, De Catiline, 16.
53
Deus summum bonum et bonum verum meum.
threaten thi ngs bel oved, and i s wary for i ts own securi ty; but what can happen that
i s unfami l i ar or sudden to thee? Or who can depri ve thee of what thou l ovest?
Where, real l y, i s there unshaken securi ty save wi th thee? Gri ef l angui shes for
thi ngs l ost i n whi ch desi re had taken del i ght, because i t wi l l s to have nothi ng taken
from i t, just as nothi ng can be taken from thee.
14. Thus the soul commi ts forni cati on when she i s turned from thee,
54
and
seeks apart from thee what she cannot fi nd pure and untai nted unti l she returns to
thee. Al l thi ngs thus i mi tate thee--but pervertedl y--when they separate themsel ves
far from thee and rai se themsel ves up agai nst thee. But, even i n thi s act of perverse
i mi tati on, they acknowl edge thee to be the Creator of al l nature, and recogni ze that
there i s no pl ace whi ther they can al together separate themsel ves from thee. What
was i t, then, that I l oved i n that theft? And wherei n was I i mi tati ng my Lord, even
i n a corrupted and perverted way? Di d I wi sh, i f onl y by gesture, to rebel agai nst thy
l aw, even though I had no power to do so actual l y--so that, even as a capti ve, I
mi ght produce a sort of counterfei t l i berty, by doi ng wi th i mpuni ty deeds that were
forbi dden, i n a del uded sense of omni potence? Behol d thi s servant of thi ne, fl eei ng
from hi s Lord and fol l owi ng a shadow! O rottenness! O monstrousness of l i fe and
abyss of death! Coul d I fi nd pl easure onl y i n what was unl awful , and onl y because i t
was unl awful ?
CHAPTER VI I
15. What shal l I render unto the Lord
55
for the fact that whi l e my memory
recal l s these thi ngs my soul no l onger fears them? I wi l l l ove thee, O Lord, and
thank thee, and confess to thy name, because thou hast put away from me such
wi cked and evi l deeds. To thy grace I attri bute i t and to thy mercy, that thou hast
mel ted away my si n as i f i t were i ce. To thy grace al so I attri bute whatsoever of evi l
I di d not commi t--for what mi ght I not have done, l ovi ng si n as I di d, just for the
sake of si nni ng? Yea, al l the si ns that I confess now to have been forgi ven me, both
those whi ch I commi tted wi l l ful l y and those whi ch, by thy provi dence, I di d not
commi t. What man i s there who, when refl ecti ng upon hi s own i nfi rmi ty, dares to
ascri be hi s chasti ty and i nnocence to hi s own powers, so that he shoul d l ove thee
l ess--as i f he were i n l ess need of thy mercy i n whi ch thou forgi vest the
transgressi ons of those that return to thee? As for that man who, when cal l ed by
thee, obeyed thy voi ce and shunned those thi ngs whi ch he here reads of me as I
recal l and confess them of mysel f, l et hi m not despi se me--for I , who was si ck, have
been heal ed by the same Physi ci an by whose ai d i t was that he di d not fal l si ck, or
rather was l ess si ck than I . And for thi s l et hi m l ove thee just as much--i ndeed, al l
the more--si nce he sees me restored from such a great weakness of si n by the
sel fsame Savi our by whom he sees hi msel f preserved from such a weakness.
CHAPTER VI I I
16. What profi t di d I , a wretched one, recei ve from those thi ngs whi ch, when I
remember them now, cause me shame--above al l , from that theft, whi ch I l oved onl y
for the thefts sake? And, as the theft i tsel f was nothi ng, I was al l the more wretched
i n that I l oved i t so. Yet by mysel f al one I woul d not have done i t--I sti l l recal l how I
fel t about thi s then--I coul d not have done i t al one. I l oved i t then because of the
54
Avertitur, the opposi te of convertitur: the evi l wi l l turns the soul away from God; thi s i s si n. By
grace i t i s turned to God; thi s i s conversion.
55
Ps. 116:12.
compani onshi p of my accompl i ces wi th whom I di d i t. I di d not, therefore, l ove the
theft al one--yet, i ndeed, i t was onl y the theft that I l oved, for the compani onshi p
was nothi ng. What i s thi s paradox? Who i s i t that can expl ai n i t to me but God, who
i l l umi nes my heart and searches out the dark corners thereof? What i s i t that has
prompted my mi nd to i nqui re about i t, to di scuss and to refl ect upon al l thi s? For
had I at that ti me l oved the pears that I stol e and wi shed to enjoy them, I mi ght
have done so al one, i f I coul d have been sati sfi ed wi th the mere act of theft by whi ch
my pl easure was served. Nor di d I need to have that i tchi ng of my own passi ons
i nfl amed by the encouragement of my accompl i ces. But si nce the pl easure I got was
not from the pears, i t was i n the cri me i tsel f, enhanced by the compani onshi p of my
fel l ow si nners.
CHAPTER I X
17. By what passi on, then, was I ani mated? I t was undoubtedl y depraved and
a great mi sfortune for me to feel i t. But sti l l , what was i t? Who can understand hi s
errors?
56
We l aughed because our hearts were ti ckl ed at the thought of decei vi ng the
owners, who had no i dea of what we were doi ng and woul d have strenuousl y
objected. Yet, agai n, why di d I fi nd such del i ght i n doi ng thi s whi ch I woul d not
have done al one? I s i t that no one readi l y l aughs al one? No one does so readi l y; but
sti l l someti mes, when men are by themsel ves and no one el se i s about, a fi t of
l aughter wi l l overcome them when somethi ng very drol l presents i tsel f to thei r
sense or mi nd. Yet al one I woul d not have done i t--al one I coul d not have done i t at
al l .
Behol d, my God, the l i vel y revi ew of my soul s career i s l ai d bare before thee.
I woul d not have commi tted that theft al one. My pl easure i n i t was not what I stol e
but, rather, the act of steal i ng. Nor woul d I have enjoyed doi ng i t al one--i ndeed I
woul d not have done i t! O fri endshi p al l unfri endl y! You strange seducer of the soul ,
who hungers for mi schi ef from i mpul ses of mi rth and wantonness, who craves
anothers l oss wi thout any desi re for ones own profi t or revenge--so that, when they
say, Lets go, l ets do i t, we are ashamed not to be shamel ess.
CHAPTER X
18. Who can unravel such a twi sted and tangl ed knotti ness? I t i s uncl ean. I
hate to refl ect upon i t. I hate to l ook on i t. But I do l ong for thee, O Ri ghteousness
and I nnocence, so beauti ful and comel y to al l vi rtuous eyes--I l ong for thee wi th an
i nsati abl e sati ety. Wi th thee i s perfect rest, and l i fe unchangi ng. He who enters i nto
thee enters i nto the joy of hi s Lord,
57
and shal l have no fear and shal l achi eve
excel l ence i n the Excel l ent. I fel l away from thee, O my God, and i n my youth I
wandered too far from thee, my true support. And I became to mysel f a wastel and.
56
Ps. 19:12.
57
Cf. Matt. 25:21.
BOOK THREE
The story of his student days in Carthage, his discovery of Ciceros Hortensi us, the
enkindling of his philosophical interest, his infatuation with the Manichean heresy,
and his mothers dream which foretold his eventual return to the true faith and to
God.
CHAPTER I
1. I came to Carthage, where a cal dron of unhol y l oves was seethi ng and
bubbl i ng al l around me. I was not i n l ove as yet, but I was i n l ove wi th l ove; and,
from a hi dden hunger, I hated mysel f for not feel i ng more i ntensel y a sense of
hunger. I was l ooki ng for somethi ng to l ove, for I was i n l ove wi th l ovi ng, and I
hated securi ty and a smooth way, free from snares. Wi thi n me I had a dearth of that
i nner food whi ch i s thysel f, my God--al though that dearth caused me no hunger.
And I remai ned wi thout any appeti te for i ncorrupti bl e food--not because I was
al ready fi l l ed wi th i t, but because the empti er I became the more I l oathed i t.
Because of thi s my soul was unheal thy; and, ful l of sores, i t exuded i tsel f forth,
i tchi ng to be scratched by scrapi ng on the thi ngs of the senses.
58
Yet, had these
thi ngs no soul , they woul d certai nl y not i nspi re our l ove.
To l ove and to be l oved was sweet to me, and al l the more when I gai ned the
enjoyment of the body of the person I l oved. Thus I pol l uted the spri ng of fri endshi p
wi th the fi l th of concupi scence and I di mmed i ts l uster wi th the sl i me of l ust. Yet,
foul and uncl ean as I was, I sti l l craved, i n excessi ve vani ty, to be thought el egant
and urbane. And I di d fal l preci pi tatel y i nto the l ove I was l ongi ng for. My God, my
mercy, wi th how much bi tterness di dst thou, out of thy i nfi ni te goodness, fl avor that
sweetness for me! For I was not onl y bel oved but al so I secretl y reached the cl i max
of enjoyment; and yet I was joyful l y bound wi th troubl esome ti cs, so that I coul d be
scourged wi th the burni ng i ron rods of jeal ousy, suspi ci on, fear, anger, and stri fe.
CHAPTER I I
2. Stage pl ays al so capti vated me, wi th thei r si ghts ful l of the i mages of my
own mi seri es: fuel for my own fi re. Now, why does a man l i ke to be made sad by
vi ewi ng dol eful and tragi c scenes, whi ch he hi msel f coul d not by any means endure?
Yet, as a spectator, he wi shes to experi ence from them a sense of gri ef, and i n thi s
very sense of gri ef hi s pl easure consi sts. What i s thi s but wretched madness? For a
man i s more affected by these acti ons the more he i s spuri ousl y i nvol ved i n these
affecti ons. Now, i f he shoul d suffer them i n hi s own person, i t i s the custom to cal l
thi s mi sery. But when he suffers wi th another, then i t i s cal l ed compassi on. But
what ki nd of compassi on i s i t that ari ses from vi ewi ng fi cti ti ous and unreal
sufferi ngs? The spectator i s not expected to ai d the sufferer but merel y to gri eve for
hi m. And the more he gri eves the more he appl auds the actor of these fi cti ons. I f the
mi sfortunes of the characters--whether hi stori cal or enti rel y i magi nary--are
represented so as not to touch the feel i ngs of the spectator, he goes away di sgusted
and compl ai ni ng. But i f hi s feel i ngs are deepl y touched, he si ts i t out attenti vel y,
and sheds tears of joy.
3. Tears and sorrow, then, are l oved. Surel y every man desi res to be joyful .
58
Cf. Job 2:7, 8.
And, though no one i s wi l l i ngl y mi serabl e, one may, neverthel ess, be pl eased to be
merci ful so that we l ove thei r sorrows because wi thout them we shoul d have
nothi ng to pi ty. Thi s al so spri ngs from that same vei n of fri endshi p. But whi ther
does i t go? Whi ther does i t fl ow? Why does i t run i nto that torrent of pi tch whi ch
seethes forth those huge ti des of l oathsome l usts i n whi ch i t i s changed and al tered
past recogni ti on, bei ng di verted and corrupted from i ts cel esti al puri ty by i ts own
wi l l ? Shal l , then, compassi on be repudi ated? By no means! Let us, however, l ove the
sorrows of others. But l et us beware of uncl eanness, O my soul , under the protecti on
of my God, the God of our fathers, who i s to be prai sed and exal ted--l et us beware of
uncl eanness. I have not yet ceased to have compassi on. But i n those days i n the
theaters I sympathi zed wi th l overs when they si nful l y enjoyed one another,
al though thi s was done fi cti ti ousl y i n the pl ay. And when they l ost one another, I
gri eved wi th them, as i f pi tyi ng them, and yet had del i ght i n both gri ef and pi ty.
Nowadays I feel much more pi ty for one who del i ghts i n hi s wi ckedness than for one
who counts hi msel f unfortunate because he fai l s to obtai n some harmful pl easure or
suffers the l oss of some mi serabl e fel i ci ty. Thi s, surel y, i s the truer compassi on, but
the sorrow I feel i n i t has no del i ght for me. For al though he that gri eves wi th the
unhappy shoul d be commended for hi s work of l ove, yet he who has the power of
real compassi on woul d sti l l prefer that there be nothi ng for hi m to gri eve about. For
i f good wi l l were to be i l l wi l l --whi ch i t cannot be--onl y then coul d he who i s trul y
and si ncerel y compassi onate wi sh that there were some unhappy peopl e so that he
mi ght commi serate them. Some gri ef may then be justi fi ed, but none of i t l oved.
Thus i t i s that thou dost act, O Lord God, for thou l ovest soul s far more purel y than
we do and art more i ncorrupti bl y compassi onate, al though thou art never wounded
by any sorrow. Now who i s suffi ci ent for these thi ngs?
59
4. But at that ti me, i n my wretchedness, I l oved to gri eve; and I sought for
thi ngs to gri eve about. I n another mans mi sery, even though i t was fei gned and
i mpersonated on the stage, that performance of the actor pl eased me best and
attracted me most powerful l y whi ch moved me to tears. What marvel then was i t
that an unhappy sheep, strayi ng from thy fl ock and i mpati ent of thy care, I became
i nfected wi th a foul di sease? Thi s i s the reason for my l ove of gri efs: that they woul d
not probe i nto me too deepl y (for I di d not l ove to suffer i n mysel f such thi ngs as I
l oved to l ook at), and they were the sort of gri ef whi ch came from heari ng those
fi cti ons, whi ch affected onl y the surface of my emoti on. Sti l l , just as i f they had been
poi soned fi ngernai l s, thei r scratchi ng was fol l owed by i nfl ammati on, swel l i ng,
putrefacti on, and corrupti on. Such was my l i fe! But was i t l i fe, O my God?
CHAPTER I I I
5. And sti l l thy fai thful mercy hovered over me from afar. I n what unseeml y
i ni qui ti es di d I wear mysel f out, fol l owi ng a sacri l egi ous curi osi ty, whi ch, havi ng
deserted thee, then began to drag me down i nto the treacherous abyss, i nto the
begui l i ng obedi ence of devi l s, to whom I made offeri ngs of my wi cked deeds. And
sti l l i n al l thi s thou di dst not fai l to scourge me. I dared, even whi l e thy sol emn ri tes
were bei ng cel ebrated i nsi de the wal l s of thy church, to desi re and to pl an a project
whi ch meri ted death as i ts frui t. For thi s thou di dst chasti se me wi th gri evous
puni shments, but nothi ng i n compari son wi th my faul t, O thou my greatest mercy,
my God, my refuge from those terri bl e dangers i n whi ch I wandered wi th sti ff neck,
recedi ng farther from thee, l ovi ng my own ways and not thi ne--l ovi ng a vagrant
l i berty!
59
2 Cor. 2:16.
6. Those studi es I was then pursui ng, general l y accounted as respectabl e,
were ai med at di sti ncti on i n the courts of l aw--to excel i n whi ch, the more crafty I
was, the more I shoul d be prai sed. Such i s the bl i ndness of men that they even gl ory
i n thei r bl i ndness. And by thi s ti me I had become a master i n the School of Rhetori c,
and I rejoi ced proudl y i n thi s honor and became i nfl ated wi th arrogance. Sti l l I was
rel ati vel y sedate, O Lord, as thou knowest, and had no share i n the wrecki ngs of
The Wreckers
60
(for thi s stupi d and di abol i cal name was regarded as the very
badge of gal l antry) among whom I l i ved wi th a sort of ashamed embarrassment that
I was not even as they were. But I l i ved wi th them, and at ti mes I was del i ghted
wi th thei r fri endshi p, even when I abhorred thei r acts (that i s, thei r wrecki ng) i n
whi ch they i nsol entl y attacked the modesty of strangers, tormenti ng them by
uncal l ed-for jeers, grati fyi ng thei r mi schi evous mi rth. Nothi ng coul d more nearl y
resembl e the acti ons of devi l s than these fel l ows. By what name, therefore, coul d
they be more aptl y cal l ed than wreckers?--bei ng themsel ves wrecked fi rst, and
al together turned upsi de down. They were secretl y mocked at and seduced by the
decei vi ng spi ri ts, i n the very acts by whi ch they amused themsel ves i n jeeri ng and
horsepl ay at the expense of others.
CHAPTER I V
7. Among such as these, i n that unstabl e peri od of my l i fe, I studi ed the books
of el oquence, for i t was i n el oquence that I was eager to be emi nent, though from a
reprehensi bl e and vai ngl ori ous moti ve, and a del i ght i n human vani ty. I n the
ordi nary course of study I came upon a certai n book of Ci ceros, whose l anguage
al most al l admi re, though not hi s heart. Thi s parti cul ar book of hi s contai ns an
exhortati on to phi l osophy and was cal l ed Hortensius.
61
Now i t was thi s book whi ch
qui te defi ni tel y changed my whol e atti tude and turned my prayers toward thee, O
Lord, and gave me new hope and new desi res. Suddenl y every vai n hope became
worthl ess to me, and wi th an i ncredi bl e warmth of heart I yearned for an
i mmortal i ty of wi sdom and began now to ari se that I mi ght return to thee. I t was
not to sharpen my tongue further that I made use of that book. I was now ni neteen;
my father had been dead two years,
62
and my mother was provi di ng the money for
my study of rhetori c. What won me i n i t [i .e., the Hortensius] was not i ts styl e but
i ts substance.
8. How ardent was I then, my God, how ardent to fl y from earthl y thi ngs to
thee! Nor di d I know how thou wast even then deal i ng wi th me. For wi th thee i s
wi sdom. I n Greek the l ove of wi sdom i s cal l ed phi l osophy, and i t was wi th thi s l ove
that that book i nfl amed me. There are some who seduce through phi l osophy, under
a great, al l uri ng, and honorabl e name, usi ng i t to col or and adorn thei r own errors.
And al most al l who di d thi s, i n Ci ceros own ti me and earl i er, are censored and
poi nted out i n hi s book. I n i t there i s al so mani fest that most sal utary admoni ti on of
thy Spi ri t, spoken by thy good and pi ous servant: Beware l est any man spoi l you
through phi l osophy and vai n decei t, after the tradi ti on of men, after the rudi ments
of the worl d, and not after Chri st: for i n hi m al l the ful l ness of the Godhead dwel l s
60
Eversores, "overturners," from overtere, to overthrow or rui n. Thi s was the ni ckname of a gang of
young hoodl ums i n Carthage, made up l argel y, i t seems, of students i n the school s.
61
A mi nor essay now l ost. We know of i ts exi stence from other wri ters, but the onl y fragments that
remai n are i n Augusti ne's works: Contra Academicos, I I I , 14:31; De beata vita, X; Soliloquia, I , 17;
De civitate Dei, I I I , 15; Contra J ulianum, I V, 15:78; De Trinitate, XI I I , 4:7, 5:8; XI V, 9:12, 19:26;
Epist. CXXX, 10.
62
Note thi s merel y parentheti cal reference to hi s father's death and contrast i t wi th the account of
hi s mother's death i n Bk. I X, Chs. X-XI I .
bodi l y.
63
Si nce at that ti me, as thou knowest, O Li ght of my heart, the words of the
apostl e were unknown to me, I was del i ghted wi th Ci ceros exhortati on, at l east
enough so that I was sti mul ated by i t, and enki ndl ed and i nfl amed to l ove, to seek,
to obtai n, to hol d, and to embrace, not thi s or that sect, but wi sdom i tsel f, wherever
i t mi ght be. Onl y thi s checked my ardor: that the name of Chri st was not i n i t. For
thi s name, by thy mercy, O Lord, thi s name of my Savi our thy Son, my tender heart
had pi ousl y drunk i n, deepl y treasured even wi th my mothers mi l k. And
whatsoever was l acki ng that name, no matter how erudi te, pol i shed, and truthful ,
di d not qui te take compl ete hol d of me.
CHAPTER V
9. I resol ved, therefore, to di rect my mi nd to the Hol y Scri ptures, that I mi ght
see what they were. And behol d, I saw somethi ng not comprehended by the proud,
not di scl osed to chi l dren, somethi ng l owl y i n the heari ng, but subl i me i n the doi ng,
and vei l ed i n mysteri es. Yet I was not of the number of those who coul d enter i nto i t
or bend my neck to fol l ow i ts steps. For then i t was qui te di fferent from what I now
feel . When I then turned toward the Scri ptures, they appeared to me to be qui te
unworthy to be compared wi th the di gni ty of Tul l y.
64
For my i nfl ated pri de was
repel l ed by thei r styl e, nor coul d the sharpness of my wi t penetrate thei r i nner
meani ng. Trul y they were of a sort to ai d the growth of l i ttl e ones, but I scorned to
be a l i ttl e one and, swol l en wi th pri de, I l ooked upon mysel f as ful l y grown.
CHAPTER VI
10. Thus I fel l among men, del i ri ous i n thei r pri de, carnal and vol ubl e, whose
mouths were the snares of the devi l --a trap made out of a mi xture of the syl l abl es of
thy name and the names of our Lord Jesus Chri st and of the Paracl ete.
65
These
names were never out of thei r mouths, but onl y as sound and the cl atter of tongues,
for thei r heart was empty of truth. Sti l l they cri ed, Truth, Truth, and were forever
speaki ng the word to me. But the thi ng i tsel f was not i n them. I ndeed, they spoke
fal sel y not onl y of thee--who trul y art the Truth--but al so about the basi c el ements
of thi s worl d, thy creati on. And, i ndeed, I shoul d have passed by the phi l osophers
themsel ves even when they were speaki ng truth concerni ng thy creatures, for the
sake of thy l ove, O Hi ghest Good, and my Father, O Beauty of al l thi ngs beauti ful .
O Truth, Truth, how i nwardl y even then di d the marrow of my soul si gh for
thee when, frequentl y and i n mani fol d ways, i n numerous and vast books, [the
Mani cheans] sounded out thy name though i t was onl y a sound! And i n these
di shes--whi l e I starved for thee--they served up to me, i n thy stead, the sun and
moon thy beauteous works--but sti l l onl y thy works and not thysel f; i ndeed, not
63
Col . 2:8, 9.
64
I .e., Marcus Tul l i us Ci cero.
65
These were the Mani cheans, a pseudo-Chri sti an sect founded by a Persi an rel i gi ous teacher, Mani
(c. A.D. 216-277). They professed a hi ghl y ecl ecti c rel i gi ous system chi efl y di sti ngui shed by i ts radi cal
dual i sm and i ts el aborate cosmogony i n whi ch good was co-ordi nated wi th l i ght and evi l wi th
darkness. I n the sect, there was an esoteri c mi nori ty cal l ed perfecti, who were supposed to obey the
stri ct rul es of an asceti c ethi c; the rest were auditores, who fol l owed, at a di stance, the doctri nes of
the perfecti but not thei r rul es. The chi ef attracti on of Mani chei sm l ay i n the fact that i t appeared to
offer a strai ghtforward, apparentl y profound and rati onal sol uti on to the probl em of evi l , both i n
nature and i n human experi ence. Cf. H.C. Puech, Le Manichisme, son fondateur--sa doctrine (Pari s,
1949); F.C. Burki tt, The Religion of the Manichees (Cambri dge, 1925); and Steven Runci man, The
Medieval Manichee (Cambri dge, 1947).
even thy fi rst work. For thy spi ri tual works came before these materi al creati ons,
cel esti al and shi ni ng though they are. But I was hungeri ng and thi rsti ng, not even
after those fi rst works of thi ne, but after thysel f the Truth, wi th whom i s no
vari abl eness, nei ther shadow of turni ng.
66
Yet they sti l l served me gl owi ng
fantasi es i n those di shes. And, trul y, i t woul d have been better to have l oved thi s
very sun--whi ch at l east i s true to our si ght--than those i l l usi ons of thei rs whi ch
decei ve the mi nd through the eye. And yet because I supposed the i l l usi ons to be
from thee I fed on them--not wi th avi di ty, for thou di dst not taste i n my mouth as
thou art, and thou wast not these empty fi cti ons. Nei ther was I nouri shed by them,
but was i nstead exhausted. Food i n dreams appears l i ke our food awake; yet the
sl eepers are not nouri shed by i t, for they are asl eep. But the fantasi es of the
Mani cheans were not i n any way l i ke thee as thou hast spoken to me now. They
were si mpl y fantasti c and fal se. I n compari son to them the actual bodi es whi ch we
see wi th our fl eshl y si ght, both cel esti al and terrestri al , are far more certai n. These
true bodi es even the beasts and bi rds percei ve as wel l as we do and they are more
certai n than the i mages we form about them. And agai n, we do wi th more certai nty
form our concepti ons about them than, from them, we go on by means of them to
i magi ne of other greater and i nfi ni te bodi es whi ch have no exi stence. Wi th such
empty husks was I then fed, and yet was not fed.
But thou, my Love, for whom I l onged i n order that I mi ght be strong, nei ther
art those bodi es that we see i n heaven nor art thou those whi ch we do not see there,
for thou hast created them al l and yet thou reckonest them not among thy greatest
works. How far, then, art thou from those fantasi es of mi ne, fantasi es of bodi es
whi ch have no real bei ng at al l ! The i mages of those bodi es whi ch actual l y exi st are
far more certai n than these fantasi es. The bodi es themsel ves are more certai n than
the i mages, yet even these thou art not. Thou art not even the soul , whi ch i s the l i fe
of bodi es; and, cl earl y, the l i fe of the body i s better than the body i tsel f. But thou art
the l i fe of soul s, l i fe of l i ves, havi ng l i fe i n thysel f, and never changi ng, O Li fe of my
soul .
67
11. Where, then, wast thou and how far from me? Far, i ndeed, was I
wanderi ng away from thee, bei ng barred even from the husks of those swi ne whom I
fed wi th husks.
68
For how much better were the fabl es of the grammari ans and
poets than these snares [of the Mani cheans]! For verses and poems and the fl yi ng
Medea
69
are sti l l more profi tabl e trul y than these mens fi ve el ements, wi th thei r
vari ous col ors, answeri ng to the fi ve caves of darkness
70
(none of whi ch exi st and
yet i n whi ch they sl ay the one who bel i eves i n them). For verses and poems I can
turn i nto food for the mi nd, for though I sang about the fl yi ng Medea I never
bel i eved i t, but those other thi ngs [the fantasi es of the Mani cheans] I di d bel i eve.
Woe, woe, by what steps I was dragged down to the depths of hel l
71
--toi l i ng and
fumi ng because of my l ack of the truth, even when I was seeki ng after thee, my God!
To thee I now confess i t, for thou di dst have mercy on me when I had not yet
confessed i t. I sought after thee, but not accordi ng to the understandi ng of the mi nd,
by means of whi ch thou hast wi l l ed that I shoul d excel the beasts, but onl y after the
gui dance of my physi cal senses. Thou wast more i nward to me than the most i nward
part of me; and hi gher than my hi ghest reach. I came upon that brazen woman,
66
James 1:17.
67
Cf. Pl oti nus, Enneads, V, 3:14.
68
Cf. Luke 15:16.
69
Cf. Ovi d, Metamorphoses, VI I , 219-224.
70
For the detai l s of the Mani chean cosmogony, see Burki tt, op. cit., ch. 4.
71
Prov. 9:18.
devoi d of prudence, who, i n Sol omons obscure parabl e, si ts at the door of the house
on a seat and says, Stol en waters are sweet, and bread eaten i n secret i s
pl easant.
72
Thi s woman seduced me, because she found my soul outsi de i ts own
door, dwel l i ng on the sensati ons of my fl esh and rumi nati ng on such food as I had
swal l owed through these physi cal senses.
CHAPTER VI I
12. For I was i gnorant of that other real i ty, true Bei ng. And so i t was that I
was subtl y persuaded to agree wi th these fool i sh decei vers when they put thei r
questi ons to me: Whence comes evi l ? and, I s God l i mi ted by a bodi l y shape, and
has he hai rs and nai l s? and, Are those patri archs to be esteemed ri ghteous who
had many wi ves at one ti me, and who ki l l ed men and who sacri fi ced l i vi ng
creatures? I n my i gnorance I was much di sturbed over these thi ngs and, though I
was retreati ng from the truth, I appeared to mysel f to be goi ng toward i t, because I
di d not yet know that evi l was nothi ng but a pri vati on of good (that, i ndeed, i t has
no bei ng)
73
; and how shoul d I have seen thi s when the si ght of my eyes went no
farther than physi cal objects, and the si ght of my mi nd reached no farther than to
fantasms? And I di d not know that God i s a spi ri t who has no parts extended i n
l ength and breadth, whose bei ng has no mass--for every mass i s l ess i n a part than
i n a whol e--and i f i t be an i nfi ni te mass i t must be l ess i n such parts as are l i mi ted
by a certai n space than i n i ts i nfi ni ty. I t cannot therefore be whol l y everywhere as
Spi ri t i s, as God i s. And I was enti rel y i gnorant as to what i s that pri nci pl e wi thi n
us by whi ch we are l i ke God, and whi ch i s ri ghtl y sai d i n Scri pture to be made after
Gods i mage.
13. Nor di d I know that true i nner ri ghteousness--whi ch does not judge
accordi ng to custom but by the measure of the most perfect l aw of God Al mi ghty--by
whi ch the mores of vari ous pl aces and ti mes were adapted to those pl aces and ti mes
(though the l aw i tsel f i s the same al ways and everywhere, not one thi ng i n one pl ace
and another i n another). By thi s i nner ri ghteousness Abraham and I saac, and Jacob
and Moses and Davi d, and al l those commended by the mouth of God were ri ghteous
and were judged unri ghteous onl y by fool i sh men who were judgi ng by human
judgment and gaugi ng thei r judgment of the mores of the whol e human race by the
narrow norms of thei r own mores. I t i s as i f a man i n an armory, not knowi ng what
pi ece goes on what part of the body, shoul d put a greave on hi s head and a hel met
on hi s shi n and then compl ai n because they di d not fi t. Or as i f, on some hol i day
when afternoon busi ness was forbi dden, one were to grumbl e at not bei ng al l owed to
go on sel l i ng as i t had been l awful for hi m to do i n the forenoon. Or, agai n, as i f, i n a
house, he sees a servant handl e somethi ng that the butl er i s not permi tted to touch,
or when somethi ng i s done behi nd a stabl e that woul d be prohi bi ted i n a di ni ng
room, and then a person shoul d be i ndi gnant that i n one house and one fami l y the
same thi ngs are not al l owed to every member of the househol d. Such i s the case
wi th those who cannot endure to hear that somethi ng was l awful for ri ghteous men
i n former ti mes that i s not so now; or that God, for certai n temporal reasons,
commanded then one thi ng to them and another now to these: yet both woul d be
servi ng the same ri ghteous wi l l . These peopl e shoul d see that i n one man, one day,
and one house, di fferent thi ngs are fi t for di fferent members; and a thi ng that was
formerl y l awful may become, after a ti me, unl awful --and somethi ng al l owed or
commanded i n one pl ace that i s justl y prohi bi ted and puni shed i n another. I s
72
Cf. Prov. 9:17; see al so Prov. 9:13 (Vul gate text).
73
Cf. Enchiridion, I V.
justi ce, then, vari abl e and changeabl e? No, but the ti mes over whi ch she presi des
are not al l al i ke because they are di fferent ti mes. But men, whose days upon the
earth are few, cannot by thei r own percepti on harmoni ze the causes of former ages
and other nati ons, of whi ch they had no experi ence, and compare them wi th these of
whi ch they do have experi ence; al though i n one and the same body, or day, or
fami l y, they can readi l y see that what i s sui tabl e for each member, season, part, and
person may di ffer. To the one they take excepti on; to the other they submi t.
14. These thi ngs I di d not know then, nor had I observed thei r i mport. They
met my eyes on every si de, and I di d not see. I composed poems, i n whi ch I was not
free to pl ace each foot just anywhere, but i n one meter one way, and i n another
meter another way, nor even i n any one verse was the same foot al l owed i n al l
pl aces. Yet the art by whi ch I composed di d not have di fferent pri nci pl es for each of
these di fferent cases, but the same l aw throughout. Sti l l I di d not see how, by that
ri ghteousness to whi ch good and hol y men submi tted, al l those thi ngs that God had
commanded were gathered, i n a far more excel l ent and subl i me way, i nto one moral
order; and i t di d not vary i n any essenti al respect, though i t di d not i n varyi ng ti mes
prescri be al l thi ngs at once but, rather, di stri buted and prescri bed what was proper
for each. And, bei ng bl i nd, I bl amed those pi ous fathers, not onl y for maki ng use of
present thi ngs as God had commanded and i nspi red them to do, but al so for
foreshadowi ng thi ngs to come, as God reveal ed i t to them.
CHAPTER VI I I
15. Can i t ever, at any ti me or pl ace, be unri ghteous for a man to l ove God
wi th al l hi s heart, wi th al l hi s soul , and wi th al l hi s mi nd; and hi s nei ghbor as
hi msel f?
74
Si mi l arl y, offenses agai nst nature are everywhere and at al l ti mes to be
hel d i n detestati on and shoul d be puni shed. Such offenses, for exampl e, were those
of the Sodomi tes; and, even i f al l nati ons shoul d commi t them, they woul d al l be
judged gui l ty of the same cri me by the di vi ne l aw, whi ch has not made men so that
they shoul d ever abuse one another i n that way. For the fel l owshi p that shoul d be
between God and us i s vi ol ated whenever that nature of whi ch he i s the author i s
pol l uted by perverted l ust. But these offenses agai nst customary moral i ty are to be
avoi ded accordi ng to the vari ety of such customs. Thus, what i s agreed upon by
conventi on, and confi rmed by custom or the l aw of any ci ty or nati on, may not be
vi ol ated at the l awl ess pl easure of any, whether ci ti zen or stranger. For any part
that i s not consi stent wi th i ts whol e i s unseeml y. Neverthel ess, when God
commands anythi ng contrary to the customs or compacts of any nati on, even though
i t were never done by them before, i t i s to be done; and i f i t has been i nterrupted, i t
i s to be restored; and i f i t has never been establ i shed, i t i s to be establ i shed. For i t i s
l awful for a ki ng, i n the state over whi ch he rei gns, to command that whi ch nei ther
he hi msel f nor anyone before hi m had commanded. And i f i t cannot be hel d to be
i ni mi cal to the publ i c i nterest to obey hi m--and, i n truth, i t woul d be i ni mi cal i f he
were not obeyed, si nce obedi ence to pri nces i s a general compact of human soci ety--
how much more, then, ought we unhesi tati ngl y to obey God, the Governor of al l hi s
creatures! For, just as among the authori ti es i n human soci ety, the greater
authori ty i s obeyed before the l esser, so al so must God be above al l .
16. Thi s appl i es as wel l to deeds of vi ol ence where there i s a real desi re to
harm another, ei ther by humi l i ati ng treatment or by i njury. Ei ther of these may be
done for reasons of revenge, as one enemy agai nst another, or i n order to obtai n
some advantage over another, as i n the case of the hi ghwayman and the travel er;
74
Cf. Matt. 22:37-39.
el se they may be done i n order to avoi d some other evi l , as i n the case of one who
fears another; or through envy as, for exampl e, an unfortunate man harmi ng a
happy one just because he i s happy; or they may be done by a prosperous man
agai nst someone whom he fears wi l l become equal to hi msel f or whose equal i ty he
resents. They may even be done for the mere pl easure i n another mans pai n, as the
spectators of gl adi atori al shows or the peopl e who deri de and mock at others. These
are the major forms of i ni qui ty that spri ng out of the l ust of the fl esh, and of the eye,
and of power.
75
Someti mes there i s just one; someti mes two together; someti mes al l
of them at once. Thus we l i ve, offendi ng agai nst the Three and the Seven, that harp
of ten stri ngs, thy Decal ogue, O God most hi gh and most sweet.
76
But now how can
offenses of vi l eness harm thee who canst not be defi l ed; or how can deeds of vi ol ence
harm thee who canst not be harmed? Sti l l thou dost puni sh these si ns whi ch men
commi t agai nst themsel ves because, even when they si n agai nst thee, they are al so
commi tti ng i mpi ety agai nst thei r own soul s. I ni qui ty gi ves i tsel f the l i e, ei ther by
corrupti ng or by perverti ng that nature whi ch thou hast made and ordai ned. And
they do thi s by an i mmoderate use of l awful thi ngs; or by l ustful desi re for thi ngs
forbi dden, as agai nst nature; or when they are gui l ty of si n by ragi ng wi th heart
and voi ce agai nst thee, rebel l i ng agai nst thee, ki cki ng agai nst the pri cks
77
; or
when they cast asi de respect for human soci ety and take audaci ous del i ght i n
conspi raci es and feuds accordi ng to thei r pri vate l i kes and di sl i kes.
Thi s i s what happens whenever thou art forsaken, O Fountai n of Li fe, who
art the one and true Creator and Rul er of the uni verse. Thi s i s what happens when
through sel f-wi l l ed pri de a part i s l oved under the fal se assumpti on that i t i s the
whol e. Therefore, we must return to thee i n humbl e pi ety and l et thee purge us from
our evi l ways, and be merci ful to those who confess thei r si ns to thee, and hear the
groani ngs of the pri soners and l oosen us from those fetters whi ch we have forged for
oursel ves. Thi s thou wi l t do, provi ded we do not rai se up agai nst thee the arrogance
of a fal se freedom--for thus we l ose al l through cravi ng more, by l ovi ng our own good
more than thee, the common good of al l .
CHAPTER I X
17. But among al l these vi ces and cri mes and mani fol d i ni qui ti es, there are
al so the si ns that are commi tted by men who are, on the whol e, maki ng progress
toward the good. When these are judged ri ghtl y and after the rul e of perfecti on, the
si ns are censored but the men are to be commended because they show the hope of
beari ng frui t, l i ke the green shoot of the growi ng corn. And there are some deeds
that resembl e vi ce and cri me and yet are not si n because they offend nei ther thee,
our Lord God, nor soci al custom. For exampl e, when sui tabl e reserves for hard ti mes
are provi ded, we cannot judge that thi s i s done merel y from a hoardi ng i mpul se. Or,
agai n, when acts are puni shed by consti tuted authori ty for the sake of correcti on,
we cannot judge that they are done merel y out of a desi re to i nfl i ct pai n. Thus,
many a deed whi ch i s di sapproved i n mans si ght may be approved by thy
testi mony. And many a man who i s prai sed by men i s condemned--as thou art
wi tness--because frequentl y the deed i tsel f, the mi nd of the doer, and the hi dden
exi gency of the si tuati on al l vary among themsel ves. But when, contrary to human
expectati on, thou commandest somethi ng unusual or unthought of--i ndeed,
75
Cf. 1 John 2:16. And see al so Bk. X, Chs. XXX-XLI , for an el aborate anal ysi s of them.
76
Cf. Ex. 20:3-8; Ps. 144:9. I n Augusti ne's Sermon I X, he poi nts out that i n the Decal ogue three
commandments pertai n to God and seven to men.
77
Acts 9:5.
somethi ng thou mayest formerl y have forbi dden, about whi ch thou mayest conceal
the reason for thy command at that parti cul ar ti me; and even though i t may be
contrary to the ordi nance of some soci ety of men
78
--who doubts but that i t shoul d be
done because onl y that soci ety of men i s ri ghteous whi ch obeys thee? But bl essed
are they who know what thou dost command. For al l thi ngs done by those who obey
thee ei ther exhi bi t somethi ng necessary at that parti cul ar ti me or they foreshow
thi ngs to come.
CHAPTER X
18. But I was i gnorant of al l thi s, and so I mocked those hol y servants and
prophets of thi ne. Yet what di d I gai n by mocki ng them save to be mocked i n turn
by thee? I nsensi bl y and l i ttl e by l i ttl e, I was l ed on to such fol l i es as to bel i eve that a
fi g tree wept when i t was pl ucked and that the sap of the mother tree was tears.
Notwi thstandi ng thi s, i f a fi g was pl ucked, by not hi s own but another mans
wi ckedness, some Mani chean sai nt mi ght eat i t, di gest i t i n hi s stomach, and
breathe i t out agai n i n the form of angel s. I ndeed, i n hi s prayers he woul d assuredl y
groan and si gh forth parti cl es of God, al though these parti cl es of the most hi gh and
true God woul d have remai ned bound i n that fi g unl ess they had been set free by
the teeth and bel l y of some el ect sai nt
79
! And, wretch that I was, I bel i eved that
more mercy was to be shown to the frui ts of the earth than unto men, for whom
these frui ts were created. For, i f a hungry man--who was not a Mani chean--shoul d
beg for any food, the morsel that we gave to hi m woul d seem condemned, as i t were,
to capi tal puni shment.
CHAPTER XI
19. And now thou di dst stretch forth thy hand from above
80
and di dst draw
up my soul out of that profound darkness [of Mani chei sm] because my mother, thy
fai thful one, wept to thee on my behal f more than mothers are accustomed to weep
for the bodi l y deaths of thei r chi l dren. For by the l i ght of the fai th and spi ri t whi ch
she recei ved from thee, she saw that I was dead. And thou di dst hear her, O Lord,
thou di dst hear her and despi sed not her tears when, pouri ng down, they watered
the earth under her eyes i n every pl ace where she prayed. Thou di dst trul y hear
her.
For what other source was there for that dream by whi ch thou di dst consol e
her, so that she permi tted me to l i ve wi th her, to have my meal s i n the same house
at the tabl e whi ch she had begun to avoi d, even whi l e she hated and detested the
bl asphemi es of my error? I n her dream she saw hersel f standi ng on a sort of wooden
rul e, and saw a bri ght youth approachi ng her, joyous and smi l i ng at her, whi l e she
was gri evi ng and bowed down wi th sorrow. But when he i nqui red of her the cause of
her sorrow and dai l y weepi ng (not to l earn from her, but to teach her, as i s
customary i n vi si ons), and when she answered that i t was my soul s doom she was
l amenti ng, he bade her rest content and tol d her to l ook and see that where she was
there I was al so. And when she l ooked she saw me standi ng near her on the same
rul e.
Whence came thi s vi si on unl ess i t was that thy ears were i ncl i ned toward her
78
An exampl e of thi s whi ch Augusti ne doubtl ess had i n mi nd i s God's command to Abraham to offer
up hi s son I saac as a human sacri fi ce. Cf. Gen. 22:1, 2.
79
Electi sancti. Another Mani chean term for the perfecti, the el i te and "perfect" among them.
80
Ps. 144:7.
heart? O thou Omni potent Good, thou carest for every one of us as i f thou di dst care
for hi m onl y, and so for al l as i f they were but one!
20. And what was the reason for thi s al so, that, when she tol d me of thi s
vi si on, and I tri ed to put thi s constructi on on i t: that she shoul d not despai r of
bei ng someday what I was, she repl i ed i mmedi atel y, wi thout hesi tati on, No; for i t
was not tol d me that where he i s, there you shal l be but where you are, there he
wi l l be? I confess my remembrance of thi s to thee, O Lord, as far as I can recal l i t--
and I have often menti oned i t. Thy answer, gi ven through my watchful mother, i n
the fact that she was not di sturbed by the pl ausi bi l i ty of my fal se i nterpretati on but
saw i mmedi atel y what shoul d have been seen--and whi ch I certai nl y had not seen
unti l she spoke--thi s answer moved me more deepl y than the dream i tsel f. Sti l l , by
that dream, the joy that was to come to that pi ous woman so l ong after was
predi cted l ong before, as a consol ati on for her present angui sh.
Nearl y ni ne years passed i n whi ch I wal l owed i n the mud of that deep pi t and
i n the darkness of fal sehood, stri vi ng often to ri se, but bei ng al l the more heavi l y
dashed down. But al l that ti me thi s chaste, pi ous, and sober wi dow--such as thou
dost l ove--was now more buoyed up wi th hope, though no l ess zeal ous i n her
weepi ng and mourni ng; and she di d not cease to bewai l my case before thee, i n al l
the hours of her suppl i cati on. Her prayers entered thy presence, and yet thou di dst
al l ow me sti l l to tumbl e and toss around i n that darkness.
CHAPTER XI I
21. Meanwhi l e, thou gavest her yet another answer, as I remember--for I pass
over many thi ngs, hasteni ng on to those thi ngs whi ch more strongl y i mpel me to
confess to thee--and many thi ngs I have si mpl y forgotten. But thou gavest her then
another answer, by a pri est of thi ne, a certai n bi shop reared i n thy Church and wel l
versed i n thy books. When that woman had begged hi m to agree to have some
di scussi on wi th me, to refute my errors, to hel p me to unl earn evi l and to l earn the
good
81
-- for i t was hi s habi t to do thi s when he found peopl e ready to recei ve i t--he
refused, very prudentl y, as I afterward real i zed. For he answered that I was sti l l
unteachabl e, bei ng i nfl ated wi th the novel ty of that heresy, and that I had al ready
perpl exed di vers i nexperi enced persons wi th vexati ous questi ons, as she hersel f had
tol d hi m. But l et hi m al one for a ti me, he sai d, onl y pray God for hi m. He wi l l of
hi s own accord, by readi ng, come to di scover what an error i t i s and how great i ts
i mpi ety i s. He went on to tel l her at the same ti me how he hi msel f, as a boy, had
been gi ven over to the Mani cheans by hi s mi sgui ded mother and not onl y had read
but had even copi ed out al most al l thei r books. Yet he had come to see, wi thout
external argument or proof from anyone el se, how much that sect was to be
shunned--and had shunned i t. When he had sai d thi s she was not sati sfi ed, but
repeated more earnestl y her entreati es, and shed copi ous tears, sti l l beseechi ng hi m
to see and tal k wi th me. Fi nal l y the bi shop, a l i ttl e vexed at her i mportuni ty,
excl ai med, Go your way; as you l i ve, i t cannot be that the son of these tears shoul d
peri sh. As she often tol d me afterward, she accepted thi s answer as though i t were
a voi ce from heaven.
81
Dedocere me mala ac docere bona; a typi cal Augusti ni an wordpl ay.
BOOK FOUR
This is the story of his years among the Manicheans. I t includes the account of his
teaching at Tagaste, his taking a mistress, the attractions of astrology, the poignant
loss of a friend which leads to a searching analysis of grief and transience. He
reports on his first book, De pul chro et apto, and his introduction to Aristotles
Categori es and other books of philosophy and theology, which he mastered with
great ease and little profit.
CHAPTER I
1. Duri ng thi s peri od of ni ne years, from my ni neteenth year to my twenty-
ei ghth, I went astray and l ed others astray. I was decei ved and decei ved others, i n
vari ed l ustful projects--someti mes publ i cl y, by the teachi ng of what men styl e the
l i beral arts; someti mes secretl y, under the fal se gui se of rel i gi on. I n the one, I was
proud of mysel f; i n the other, supersti ti ous; i n al l , vai n! I n my publ i c l i fe I was
stri vi ng after the empti ness of popul ar fame, goi ng so far as to seek theatri cal
appl ause, enteri ng poeti c contests, stri vi ng for the straw garl ands and the vani ty of
theatri cal s and i ntemperate desi res. I n my pri vate l i fe I was seeki ng to be purged
from these corrupti ons of ours by carryi ng food to those who were cal l ed el ect and
hol y, whi ch, i n the l aboratory of thei r stomachs, they shoul d make i nto angel s and
gods for us, and by them we mi ght be set free. These projects I fol l owed out and
practi ced wi th my fri ends, who were both decei ved wi th me and by me. Let the
proud l augh at me, and those who have not yet been savi ngl y cast down and
stri cken by thee, O my God. Neverthel ess, I woul d confess to thee my shame to thy
gl ory. Bear wi th me, I beseech thee, and gi ve me the grace to retrace i n my present
memory the devi ous ways of my past errors and thus be abl e to offer to thee the
sacri fi ce of thanksgi vi ng.
82
For what am I to mysel f wi thout thee but a gui de to my
own downfal l ? Or what am I , even at the best, but one suckl ed on thy mi l k and
feedi ng on thee, O Food that never peri shes?
83
What i ndeed i s any man, seei ng that
he i s but a man? Therefore, l et the strong and the mi ghty l augh at us, but l et us
who are poor and needy
84
confess to thee.
CHAPTER I I
2. Duri ng those years I taught the art of rhetori c. Conquered by the desi re for
gai n, I offered for sal e speaki ng ski l l s wi th whi ch to conquer others. And yet, O
Lord, thou knowest that I real l y preferred to have honest schol ars (or what were
esteemed as such) and, wi thout tri cks of speech, I taught these schol ars the tri cks of
speech--not to be used agai nst the l i fe of the i nnocent, but someti mes to save the l i fe
of a gui l ty man. And thou, O God, di dst see me from afar, stumbl i ng on that sl i ppery
path and sendi ng out some fl ashes of fi del i ty ami d much smoke--gui di ng those who
l oved vani ty and sought after l yi ng,
85
bei ng mysel f thei r compani on.
I n those years I had a mi stress, to whom I was not joi ned i n l awful marri age.
She was a woman I had di scovered i n my wayward passi on, voi d as i t was of
82
Ps. 50:14.
83
Cf. John 6:27.
84
Ps. 74:21.
85
Cf. Ps. 4:2.
understandi ng, yet she was the onl y one; and I remai ned fai thful to her and wi th
her I di scovered, by my own experi ence, what a great di fference there i s between the
restrai nt of the marri age bond contracted wi th a vi ew to havi ng chi l dren and the
compact of a l ustful l ove, where chi l dren are born agai nst the parents wi l l --
al though once they are born they compel our l ove.
3. I remember too that, when I deci ded to compete for a theatri cal pri ze, some
magi ci an--I do not remember hi m now--asked me what I woul d gi ve hi m to be
certai n to wi n. But I detested and abomi nated such fi l thy mysteri es,
86
and
answered that, even i f the garl and was of i mperi shabl e gol d, I woul d sti l l not
permi t a fl y to be ki l l ed to wi n i t for me. For he woul d have sl ai n certai n l i vi ng
creatures i n hi s sacri fi ces, and by those honors woul d have i nvi ted the devi l s to hel p
me. Thi s evi l thi ng I refused, but not out of a pure l ove of thee, O God of my heart,
for I knew not how to l ove thee because I knew not how to concei ve of anythi ng
beyond corporeal spl endors. And does not a soul , si ghi ng after such i dl e fi cti ons,
commi t forni cati on agai nst thee, trust i n fal se thi ngs, and feed on the wi nds
87
?
But sti l l I woul d not have sacri fi ces offered to devi l s on my behal f, though I was
mysel f sti l l offeri ng them sacri fi ces of a sort by my own [Mani chean] supersti ti on.
For what el se i s i t to feed on the wi nds but to feed on the devi l s, that i s, i n our
wanderi ngs to become thei r sport and mockery?
CHAPTER I I I
4. And yet, wi thout scrupl e, I consul ted those other i mpostors, whom they cal l
astrol ogers [mathematicos], because they used no sacri fi ces and i nvoked the ai d of
no spi ri t for thei r di vi nati ons. Sti l l , true Chri sti an pi ety must necessari l y reject and
condemn thei r art.
I t i s good to confess to thee and to say, Have mercy on me; heal my soul ; for I
have si nned agai nst thee
88
--not to abuse thy goodness as a l i cense to si n, but to
remember the words of the Lord, Behol d, you are made whol e: si n no more, l est a
worse thi ng befal l you.
89
Al l thi s whol esome advi ce [the astrol ogers] l abor to
destroy when they say, The cause of your si n i s i nevi tabl y fi xed i n the heavens,
and, Thi s i s the doi ng of Venus, or of Saturn, or of Mars--al l thi s i n order that a
man, who i s onl y fl esh and bl ood and proud corrupti on, may regard hi msel f as
bl amel ess, whi l e the Creator and Ordai ner of heaven and the stars must bear the
bl ame of our i l l s and mi sfortunes. But who i s thi s Creator but thou, our God, the
sweetness and wel l spri ng of ri ghteousness, who renderest to every man accordi ng to
hi s works and despi sest not a broken and a contri te heart
90
?
5. There was at that ti me a wi se man, very ski l l ful and qui te famous i n
medi ci ne.
91
He was proconsul then, and wi th hi s own hand he pl aced on my
di stempered head the crown I had won i n a rhetori cal contest. He di d not do thi s as
a physi ci an, however; and for thi s di stemper onl y thou canst heal who resi steth the
proud and gi veth grace to the humbl e.
92
But di dst thou fai l me i n that ol d man, or
forbear from heal i ng my soul ? Actual l y when I became better acquai nted wi th hi m, I
86
The ri tes of the soothsayers, i n whi ch ani mal s were ki l l ed, for auguri es and propi ti ati on of the
gods.
87
Cf. Hos. 12:1.
88
Ps. 41:4.
89
John 5:14.
90
Ps. 51:17.
91
Vi ndi ci anus; see bel ow, Bk. VI I , Ch. VI , 8.
92
James 4:6; 1 Peter 5:5.
used to l i sten, rapt and eager, to hi s words; for, though he spoke i n si mpl e l anguage,
hi s conversati on was repl ete wi th vi vaci ty, l i fe, and earnestness. He recogni zed from
my own tal k that I was gi ven to books of the horoscope-casters, but he, i n a ki nd and
fatherl y way, advi sed me to throw them away and not to spend i dl y on these
vani ti es care and l abor that mi ght otherwi se go i nto useful thi ngs. He sai d that he
hi msel f i n hi s earl i er years had studi ed the astrol ogers art wi th a vi ew to gai ni ng
hi s l i vi ng by i t as a professi on. Si nce he had al ready understood Hi ppocrates, he was
ful l y qual i fi ed to understand thi s too. Yet, he had gi ven i t up and fol l owed medi ci ne
for the si mpl e reason that he had di scovered astrol ogy to be utterl y fal se and, as a
man of honest character, he was unwi l l i ng to gai n hi s l i vi ng by begui l i ng peopl e.
But you, he sai d, have the professi on of rhetori c to support yoursel f by, so that
you are fol l owi ng thi s del usi on i n free wi l l and not necessi ty. Al l the more, therefore,
you ought to bel i eve me, si nce I worked at i t to l earn the art perfectl y because I
wi shed to gai n my l i vi ng by i t. When I asked hi m to account for the fact that many
true thi ngs are foretol d by astrol ogy, he answered me, reasonabl y enough, that the
force of chance, di ffused through the whol e order of nature, brought these thi ngs
about. For when a man, by acci dent, opens the l eaves of some poet (who sang and
i ntended somethi ng far di fferent) a verse oftenti mes turns out to be wondrousl y
apposi te to the readers present busi ness. I t i s not to be wondered at, he conti nued,
i f out of the human mi nd, by some hi gher i nsti nct whi ch does not know what goes
on wi thi n i tsel f, an answer shoul d be arri ved at, by chance and not art, whi ch woul d
fi t both the busi ness and the acti on of the i nqui rer.
6. And thus trul y, ei ther by hi m or through hi m, thou wast l ooki ng after me.
And thou di dst fi x al l thi s i n my memory so that afterward I mi ght search i t out for
mysel f.
But at that ti me, nei ther the proconsul nor my most dear Nebri di us--a
spl endi d youth and most ci rcumspect, who scoffed at the whol e busi ness of
di vi nati on--coul d persuade me to gi ve i t up, for the authori ty of the astrol ogi cal
authors i nfl uenced me more than they di d. And, thus far, I had come upon no
certai n proof--such as I sought--by whi ch i t coul d be shown wi thout doubt that what
had been trul y foretol d by those consul ted came from acci dent or chance, and not
from the art of the stargazers.
CHAPTER I V
7. I n those years, when I fi rst began to teach rhetori c i n my nati ve town, I
had gai ned a very dear fri end, about my own age, who was associ ated wi th me i n
the same studi es. Li ke mysel f, he was just ri si ng up i nto the fl ower of youth. He had
grown up wi th me from chi l dhood and we had been both school fel l ows and
pl aymates. But he was not then my fri end, nor i ndeed ever became my fri end, i n the
true sense of the term; for there i s no true fri endshi p save between those thou dost
bi nd together and who cl eave to thee by that l ove whi ch i s shed abroad i n our
hearts through the Hol y Spi ri t who i s gi ven to us.
93
Sti l l , i t was a sweet fri endshi p,
bei ng ri pened by the zeal of common studi es. Moreover, I had turned hi m away from
the true fai th--whi ch he had not soundl y and thoroughl y mastered as a youth--and
turned hi m toward those supersti ti ous and harmful fabl es whi ch my mother
mourned i n me. Wi th me thi s man went wanderi ng off i n error and my soul coul d
not exi st wi thout hi m. But behol d thou wast cl ose behi nd thy fugi ti ves--at once a
God of vengeance and a Fountai n of merci es, who dost turn us to thysel f by ways
that make us marvel . Thus, thou di dst take that man out of thi s l i fe when he had
93
Rom. 5:5.
scarcel y compl eted one whol e year of fri endshi p wi th me, sweeter to me than al l the
sweetness of my l i fe thus far.
8. Who can show forth al l thy prai se
94
for that whi ch he has experi enced i n
hi msel f al one? What was i t that thou di dst do at that ti me, O my God; how
unsearchabl e are the depths of thy judgments! For when, sore si ck of a fever, he
l ong l ay unconsci ous i n a death sweat and everyone despai red of hi s recovery, he
was bapti zed wi thout hi s knowl edge. And I mysel f cared l i ttl e, at the ti me,
presumi ng that hi s soul woul d retai n what i t had taken from me rather than what
was done to hi s unconsci ous body. I t turned out, however, far di fferentl y, for he was
revi ved and restored. I mmedi atel y, as soon as I coul d tal k to hi m--and I di d thi s as
soon as he was abl e, for I never l eft hi m and we hung on each other overmuch--I
tri ed to jest wi th hi m, supposi ng that he al so woul d jest i n return about that
bapti sm whi ch he had recei ved when hi s mi nd and senses were i nacti ve, but whi ch
he had si nce l earned that he had recei ved. But he recoi l ed from me, as i f I were hi s
enemy, and, wi th a remarkabl e and unexpected freedom, he admoni shed me that, i f
I desi red to conti nue as hi s fri end, I must cease to say such thi ngs. Confounded and
confused, I conceal ed my feel i ngs ti l l he shoul d get wel l and hi s heal th recover
enough to al l ow me to deal wi th hi m as I wi shed. But he was snatched away from
my madness, that wi th thee he mi ght be preserved for my consol ati on. A few days
after, duri ng my absence, the fever returned and he di ed.
9. My heart was utterl y darkened by thi s sorrow and everywhere I l ooked I
saw death. My nati ve pl ace was a torture room to me and my fathers house a
strange unhappi ness. And al l the thi ngs I had done wi th hi m--now that he was
gone--became a fri ghtful torment. My eyes sought hi m everywhere, but they di d not
see hi m; and I hated al l pl aces because he was not i n them, because they coul d not
say to me, Look, he i s comi ng, as they di d when he was al i ve and absent. I became
a hard ri ddl e to mysel f, and I asked my soul why she was so downcast and why thi s
di squi eted me so sorel y.
95
But she di d not know how to answer me. And i f I sai d,
Hope thou i n God,
96
she very properl y di sobeyed me, because that dearest fri end
she had l ost was as an actual man, both truer and better than the i magi ned dei ty
she was ordered to put her hope i n. Nothi ng but tears were sweet to me and they
took my fri ends pl ace i n my hearts desi re.
CHAPTER V
10. But now, O Lord, these thi ngs are past and ti me has heal ed my wound.
Let me l earn from thee, who art Truth, and put the ear of my heart to thy mouth,
that thou mayest tel l me why weepi ng shoul d be so sweet to the unhappy. Hast
thou--though omni present--di smi ssed our mi seri es from thy concern? Thou abi dest
i n thysel f whi l e we are di squi eted wi th tri al after tri al . Yet unl ess we wept i n thy
ears, there woul d be no hope for us remai ni ng. How does i t happen that such sweet
frui t i s pl ucked from the bi tterness of l i fe, from groans, tears, si ghs, and
l amentati ons? I s i t the hope that thou wi l t hear us that sweetens i t? Thi s i s true i n
the case of prayer, for i n a prayer there i s a desi re to approach thee. But i s i t al so
the case i n gri ef for a l ost l ove, and i n the ki nd of sorrow that had then overwhel med
me? For I had nei ther a hope of hi s comi ng back to l i fe, nor i n al l my tears di d I seek
thi s. I si mpl y gri eved and wept, for I was mi serabl e and had l ost my joy. Or i s
weepi ng a bi tter thi ng that gi ves us pl easure because of our aversi on to the thi ngs
94
Cf. Ps. 106:2.
95
Cf. Ps. 42:5; 43:5.
96
I bid.
we once enjoyed and thi s onl y as l ong as we l oathe them?
CHAPTER VI
11. But why do I speak of these thi ngs? Now i s not the ti me to ask such
questi ons, but rather to confess to thee. I was wretched; and every soul i s wretched
that i s fettered i n the fri endshi p of mortal thi ngs--i t i s torn to pi eces when i t l oses
them, and then real i zes the mi sery whi ch i t had even before i t l ost them. Thus i t
was at that ti me wi th me. I wept most bi tterl y, and found a rest i n bi tterness. I was
wretched, and yet that wretched l i fe I sti l l hel d dearer than my fri end. For though I
woul d wi l l i ngl y have changed i t, I was sti l l more unwi l l i ng to l ose i t than to have
l ost hi m. I ndeed, I doubt whether I was wi l l i ng to l ose i t, even for hi m--as they tel l
(unl ess i t be fi cti on) of the fri endshi p of Orestes and Pyl ades
97
; they woul d have
gl adl y di ed for one another, or both together, because not to l ove together was worse
than death to them. But a strange ki nd of feel i ng had come over me, qui te di fferent
from thi s, for now i t was weari some to l i ve and a fearful thi ng to di e. I suppose that
the more I l oved hi m the more I hated and feared, as the most cruel enemy, that
death whi ch had robbed me of hi m. I even i magi ned that i t woul d suddenl y
anni hi l ate al l men, si nce i t had had such a power over hi m. Thi s i s the way I
remember i t was wi th me.
Look i nto my heart, O God! Behol d and l ook deep wi thi n me, for I remember
i t wel l , O my Hope who cl eansest me from the uncl eanness of such affecti ons,
di recti ng my eyes toward thee and pl ucki ng my feet out of the snare. And I
marvel ed that other mortal s went on l i vi ng si nce he whom I had l oved as i f he
woul d never di e was now dead. And I marvel ed al l the more that I , who had been a
second sel f to hi m, coul d go on l i vi ng when he was dead. Someone spoke ri ghtl y of
hi s fri end as bei ng hi s soul s other hal f
98
--for I fel t that my soul and hi s soul were
but one soul i n two bodi es. Consequentl y, my l i fe was now a horror to me because I
di d not want to l i ve as a hal f sel f. But i t may have been that I was afrai d to di e, l est
he shoul d then di e whol l y whom I had so greatl y l oved.
CHAPTER VI I
12. O madness that knows not how to l ove men as they shoul d be l oved! O
fool i sh man that I was then, enduri ng wi th so much rebel l i on the l ot of every man!
Thus I fretted, si ghed, wept, tormented mysel f, and took nei ther rest nor counsel ,
for I was draggi ng around my torn and bl oody soul . I t was i mpati ent of my draggi ng
i t around, and yet I coul d not fi nd a pl ace to l ay i t down. Not i n pl easant groves, nor
i n sport or song, nor i n fragrant bowers, nor i n magni fi cent banqueti ngs, nor i n the
pl easures of the bed or the couch; not even i n books or poetry di d i t fi nd rest. Al l
thi ngs l ooked gl oomy, even the very l i ght i tsel f. Whatsoever was not what he was,
was now repul si ve and hateful , except my groans and tears, for i n those al one I
found a l i ttl e rest. But when my soul l eft off weepi ng, a heavy burden of mi sery
wei ghed me down. I t shoul d have been rai sed up to thee, O Lord, for thee to l i ghten
and to l i ft. Thi s I knew, but I was nei ther wi l l i ng nor abl e to do; especi al l y si nce, i n
my thoughts of thee, thou wast not thysel f but onl y an empty fantasm. Thus my
error was my god. I f I tri ed to cast off my burden on thi s fantasm, that i t mi ght fi nd
rest there, i t sank through the vacuum and came rushi ng down agai n upon me.
97
Cf. Ovi d, Tristia, I V, 4:74.
98
Cf. Horace, Ode I , 3:8, where he speaks of Vi rgi l , et serves animae dimidium meae. Augusti ne's
memory changes the text here to dimidium animae suae.
Thus I remai ned to mysel f an unhappy l odgi ng where I coul d nei ther stay nor l eave.
For where coul d my heart fl y from my heart? Where coul d I fl y from my own sel f?
Where woul d I not fol l ow mysel f? And yet I di d fl ee from my nati ve pl ace so that my
eyes woul d l ook for hi m l ess i n a pl ace where they were not accustomed to see hi m.
Thus I l eft the town of Tagaste and returned to Carthage.
CHAPTER VI I I
13. Ti me never l apses, nor does i t gl i de at l ei sure through our sense
percepti ons. I t does strange thi ngs i n the mi nd. Lo, ti me came and went from day to
day, and by comi ng and goi ng i t brought to my mi nd other i deas and remembrances,
and l i ttl e by l i ttl e they patched me up agai n wi th earl i er ki nds of pl easure and my
sorrow yi el ded a bi t to them. But yet there fol l owed after thi s sorrow, not other
sorrows just l i ke i t, but the causes of other sorrows. For why had that fi rst sorrow so
easi l y penetrated to the qui ck except that I had poured out my soul onto the dust, by
l ovi ng a man as i f he woul d never di e who neverthel ess had to di e? What revi ved
and refreshed me, more than anythi ng el se, was the consol ati on of other fri ends,
wi th whom I went on l ovi ng the thi ngs I l oved i nstead of thee. Thi s was a monstrous
fabl e and a tedi ous l i e whi ch was corrupti ng my soul wi th i ts i tchi ng ears
99
by i ts
adul terous rubbi ng. And that fabl e woul d not di e to me as often as one of my fri ends
di ed. And there were other thi ngs i n our compani onshi p that took strong hol d of my
mi nd: to di scourse and jest wi th hi m; to i ndul ge i n courteous exchanges; to read
pl easant books together; to tri fl e together; to be earnest together; to di ffer at ti mes
wi thout i l l -humor, as a man mi ght do wi th hi msel f, and even through these
i nfrequent di ssensi ons to fi nd zest i n our more frequent agreements; someti mes
teachi ng, someti mes bei ng taught; l ongi ng for someone absent wi th i mpati ence and
wel comi ng the homecomer wi th joy. These and si mi l ar tokens of fri endshi p, whi ch
spri ng spontaneousl y from the hearts of those who l ove and are l oved i n return--i n
countenance, tongue, eyes, and a thousand i ngrati ati ng gestures--were al l so much
fuel to mel t our soul s together, and out of the many made us one.
CHAPTER I X
14. Thi s i s what we l ove i n our fri ends, and we l ove i t so much that a mans
consci ence accuses i tsel f i f he does not l ove one who l oves hi m, or respond i n l ove to
l ove, seeki ng nothi ng from the other but the evi dences of hi s l ove. Thi s i s the source
of our moani ng when one di es--the gl oom of sorrow, the steepi ng of the heart i n
tears, al l sweetness turned to bi tterness--and the feel i ng of death i n the l i vi ng,
because of the l oss of the l i fe of the dyi ng.
Bl essed i s he who l oves thee, and who l oves hi s fri end i n thee, and hi s enemy
al so, for thy sake; for he al one l oses none dear to hi m, i f al l are dear i n Hi m who
cannot be l ost. And who i s thi s but our God: the God that created heaven and earth,
and fi l l ed them because he created them by fi l l i ng them up? None l oses thee but he
who l eaves thee; and he who l eaves thee, where does he go, or where can he fl ee but
from thee wel l -pl eased to thee offended? For where does he not fi nd thy l aw ful fi l l ed
i n hi s own puni shment? Thy l aw i s the truth
100
and thou art Truth.
CHAPTER X
99
2 Ti m. 4:3.
100
Ps. 119:142.
15. Turn us agai n, O Lord God of Hosts, cause thy face to shi ne; and we shal l
be saved.
101
For wherever the soul of man turns i tsel f, unl ess toward thee, i t i s
enmeshed i n sorrows, even though i t i s surrounded by beauti ful thi ngs outsi de thee
and outsi de i tsel f. For l ovel y thi ngs woul d si mpl y not be unl ess they were from thee.
They come to be and they pass away, and by comi ng they begi n to be, and they grow
toward perfecti on. Then, when perfect, they begi n to wax ol d and peri sh, and, i f al l
do not wax ol d, sti l l al l peri sh. Therefore, when they ri se and grow toward bei ng, the
more rapi dl y they grow to maturi ty, so al so the more rapi dl y they hasten back
toward nonbei ng. Thi s i s the way of thi ngs. Thi s i s the l ot thou hast gi ven them,
because they are part of thi ngs whi ch do not al l exi st at the same ti me, but by
passi ng away and succeedi ng each other they al l make up the uni verse, of whi ch
they are al l parts. For exampl e, our speech i s accompl i shed by sounds whi ch si gni fy
meani ngs, but a meani ng i s not compl ete unl ess one word passes away, when i t has
sounded i ts part, so that the next may fol l ow after i t. Let my soul prai se thee, i n al l
these thi ngs, O God, the Creator of al l ; but l et not my soul be stuck to these thi ngs
by the gl ue of l ove, through the senses of the body. For they go where they were
meant to go, that they may exi st no l onger. And they rend the soul wi th pesti l ent
desi res because she l ongs to be and yet l oves to rest secure i n the created thi ngs she
l oves. But i n these thi ngs there i s no resti ng pl ace to be found. They do not abi de.
They fl ee away; and who i s he who can fol l ow them wi th hi s physi cal senses? Or
who can grasp them, even when they are present? For our physi cal sense i s sl ow
because i t i s a physi cal sense and bears i ts own l i mi tati ons i n i tsel f. The physi cal
sense i s qui te suffi ci ent for what i t was made to do; but i t i s not suffi ci ent to stay
thi ngs from runni ng thei r courses from the begi nni ng appoi nted to the end
appoi nted. For i n thy word, by whi ch they were created, they hear thei r appoi nted
bound: From there--to here!
CHAPTER XI
16. Be not fool i sh, O my soul , and do not l et the tumul t of your vani ty deafen
the ear of your heart. Be attenti ve. The Word i tsel f cal l s you to return, and wi th hi m
i s a pl ace of unperturbed rest, where l ove i s not forsaken unl ess i t fi rst forsakes.
Behol d, these thi ngs pass away that others may come to be i n thei r pl ace. Thus even
thi s l owest l evel of uni ty
102
may be made compl ete i n al l i ts parts. But do I ever
pass away? asks the Word of God. Fi x your habi tati on i n hi m. O my soul , commi t
whatsoever you have to hi m. For at l ong l ast you are now becomi ng ti red of decei t.
Commi t to truth whatever you have recei ved from the truth, and you wi l l l ose
nothi ng. What i s decayed wi l l fl ouri sh agai n; your di seases wi l l be heal ed; your
peri shabl e parts shal l be reshaped and renovated, and made whol e agai n i n you.
And these peri shabl e thi ngs wi l l not carry you wi th them down to where they go
when they peri sh, but shal l stand and abi de, and you wi th them, before God, who
abi des and conti nues forever.
17. Why then, my perverse soul , do you go on fol l owi ng your fl esh? I nstead,
l et i t be converted so as to fol l ow you. Whatever you feel through i t i s but parti al .
You do not know the whol e, of whi ch sensati ons are but parts; and yet the parts
del i ght you. But i f my physi cal senses had been abl e to comprehend the whol e--and
had not as a part of thei r puni shment recei ved onl y a porti on of the whol e as thei r
own provi nce--you woul d then desi re that whatever exi sts i n the present ti me
shoul d al so pass away so that the whol e mi ght pl ease you more. For what we speak,
101
Ps. 80:3.
102
That i s, our physi cal uni verse.
you al so hear through physi cal sensati on, and yet you woul d not wi sh that the
syl l abl es shoul d remai n. I nstead, you wi sh them to fl y past so that others may
fol l ow them, and the whol e be heard. Thus i t i s al ways that when any si ngl e thi ng i s
composed of many parts whi ch do not coexi st si mul taneousl y, the whol e gi ves more
del i ght than the parts coul d ever do percei ved separatel y. But far better than al l
thi s i s He who made i t al l . He i s our God and he does not pass away, for there i s
nothi ng to take hi s pl ace.
CHAPTER XI I
18. I f physi cal objects pl ease you, prai se God for them, but turn back your
l ove to thei r Creator, l est, i n those thi ngs whi ch pl ease you, you di spl ease hi m. I f
soul s pl ease you, l et them be l oved i n God; for i n themsel ves they are mutabl e, but
i n hi m fi rml y establ i shed--wi thout hi m they woul d si mpl y cease to exi st. I n hi m,
then, l et them be l oved; and bri ng al ong to hi m wi th yoursel f as many soul s as you
can, and say to them: Let us l ove hi m, for he hi msel f created al l these, and he i s not
far away from them. For he di d not create them, and then go away. They are of hi m
and i n hi m. Behol d, there he i s, wherever truth i s known. He i s wi thi n the i nmost
heart, yet the heart has wandered away from hi m. Return to your heart, O you
transgressors, and hol d fast to hi m who made you. Stand wi th hi m and you shal l
stand fast. Rest i n hi m and you shal l be at rest. Where do you go al ong these rugged
paths? Where are you goi ng? The good that you l ove i s from hi m, and i nsofar as i t i s
al so for hi m, i t i s both good and pl easant. But i t wi l l ri ghtl y be turned to bi tterness
i f whatever comes from hi m i s not ri ghtl y l oved and i f he i s deserted for the l ove of
the creature. Why then wi l l you wander farther and farther i n these di ffi cul t and
toi l some ways? There i s no rest where you seek i t. Seek what you seek; but
remember that i t i s not where you seek i t. You seek for a bl essed l i fe i n the l and of
death. I t i s not there. For how can there be a bl essed l i fe where l i fe i tsel f i s not?
19. But our very Li fe came down to earth and bore our death, and sl ew i t wi th
the very abundance of hi s own l i fe. And, thunderi ng, he cal l ed us to return to hi m
i nto that secret pl ace from whi ch he came forth to us--comi ng fi rst i nto the vi rgi nal
womb, where the human creature, our mortal fl esh, was joi ned to hi m that i t mi ght
not be forever mortal --and came as a bri degroom comi ng out hi s chamber, rejoi ci ng
as a strong man to run a race.
103
For he di d not del ay, but ran through the worl d,
cryi ng out by words, deeds, death, l i fe, descent, ascensi on--cryi ng al oud to us to
return to hi m. And he departed from our si ght that we mi ght return to our hearts
and fi nd hi m there. For he l eft us, and behol d, he i s here. He coul d not be wi th us
l ong, yet he di d not l eave us. He went back to the pl ace that he had never l eft, for
the worl d was made by hi m.
104
I n thi s worl d he was, and i nto thi s worl d he came,
to save si nners. To hi m my soul confesses, and he heal s i t, because i t had si nned
agai nst hi m. O sons of men, how l ong wi l l you be so sl ow of heart? Even now after
Li fe i tsel f has come down to you, wi l l you not ascend and l i ve? But where wi l l you
cl i mb i f you are al ready on a pi nnacl e and have set your mouth agai nst the
heavens? Fi rst come down that you may cl i mb up, cl i mb up to God. For you have
fal l en by tryi ng to cl i mb agai nst hi m. Tel l thi s to the soul s you l ove that they may
weep i n the val l ey of tears, and so bri ng them al ong wi th you to God, because i t i s by
hi s spi ri t that you speak thus to them, i f, as you speak, you burn wi th the fi re of
l ove.
103
Ps. 19:5.
104
John 1:10.
CHAPTER XI I I
20. These thi ngs I di d not understand at that ti me, and I l oved those i nferi or
beauti es, and I was si nki ng down to the very depths. And I sai d to my fri ends: Do
we l ove anythi ng but the beauti ful ? What then i s the beauti ful ? And what i s beauty?
What i s i t that al l ures and uni tes us to the thi ngs we l ove; for unl ess there were a
grace and beauty i n them, they coul d not possi bl y attract us to them? And I
refl ected on thi s and saw that i n the objects themsel ves there i s a ki nd of beauty
whi ch comes from thei r formi ng a whol e and another ki nd of beauty that comes
from mutual fi tness--as the harmony of one part of the body wi th i ts whol e, or a
shoe wi th a foot, and so on. And thi s i dea sprang up i n my mi nd out of my i nmost
heart, and I wrote some books--two or three, I thi nk--On the Beautiful and the
Fitting.
105
Thou knowest them, O Lord; they have escaped my memory. I no l onger
have them; somehow they have been mi sl ai d.
CHAPTER XI V
21. What was i t, O Lord my God, that prompted me to dedi cate these books to
Hi eri us, an orator of Rome, a man I di d not know by si ght but whom I l oved for hi s
reputati on of l earni ng, i n whi ch he was famous--and al so for some words of hi s that
I had heard whi ch had pl eased me? But he pl eased me more because he pl eased
others, who gave hi m hi gh prai se and expressed amazement that a Syri an, who had
fi rst studi ed Greek el oquence, shoul d thereafter become so wonderful a Lati n orator
and al so so wel l versed i n phi l osophy. Thus a man we have never seen i s
commended and l oved. Does a l ove l i ke thi s come i nto the heart of the hearer from
the mouth of hi m who si ngs the others prai se? Not so. I nstead, one catches the
spark of l ove from one who l oves. Thi s i s why we l ove one who i s prai sed when the
eul ogi st i s bel i eved to gi ve hi s prai se from an unfei gned heart; that i s, when he who
l oves hi m prai ses hi m.
22. Thus i t was that I l oved men on the basi s of other mens judgment, and
not thi ne, O my God, i n whom no man i s decei ved. But why i s i t that the feel i ng I
had for such men was not l i ke my feel i ng toward the renowned chari oteer, or the
great gl adi atori al hunter, famed far and wi de and popul ar wi th the mob? Actual l y, I
admi red the orator i n a di fferent and more seri ous fashi on, as I woul d mysel f desi re
to be admi red. For I di d not want them to prai se and l ove me as actors were prai sed
and l oved--al though I mysel f prai se and l ove them too. I woul d prefer bei ng
unknown than known i n that way, or even bei ng hated than l oved that way. How
are these vari ous i nfl uences and di vers sorts of l oves di stri buted wi thi n one soul ?
What i s i t that I am i n l ove wi th i n another whi ch, i f I di d not hate, I shoul d nei ther
detest nor repel from mysel f, seei ng that we are equal l y men? For i t does not fol l ow
that because the good horse i s admi red by a man who woul d not be that horse--even
i f he coul d--the same ki nd of admi rati on shoul d be gi ven to an actor, who shares our
nature. Do I then l ove that i n a man, whi ch I al so, a man, woul d hate to be? Man i s
hi msel f a great deep. Thou dost number hi s very hai rs, O Lord, and they do not fal l
to the ground wi thout thee, and yet the hai rs of hi s head are more readi l y numbered
than are hi s affecti ons and the movements of hi s heart.
23. But that orator whom I admi red so much was the ki nd of man I wi shed
mysel f to be. Thus I erred through a swel l i ng pri de and was carri ed about wi th
105
De pulchro et apto; a l ost essay wi th no other record save echoes i n the rest of Augusti ne's
aestheti c theori es. Cf. The Nature of the Good Against the Manicheans, VI I I -XV; City of God, XI , 18;
De ordine, I , 7:18; I I , 19:51; Enchiridion, I I I , 10; I , 5.
every wi nd,
106
but through i t al l I was bei ng pi l oted by thee, though most secretl y.
And how i s i t that I know--whence comes my confi dent confessi on to thee--that I
l oved hi m more because of the l ove of those who prai sed hi m than for the thi ngs
they prai sed i n hi m? Because i f he had gone unprai sed, and these same peopl e had
cri ti ci zed hi m and had spoken the same thi ngs of hi m i n a tone of scorn and
di sapproval , I shoul d never have been ki ndl ed and provoked to l ove hi m. And yet hi s
qual i ti es woul d not have been di fferent, nor woul d he have been di fferent hi msel f;
onl y the apprai sal s of the spectators. See where the hel pl ess soul l i es prostrate that
i s not yet sustai ned by the stabi l i ty of truth! Just as the breezes of speech bl ow from
the breast of the opi ni onated, so al so the soul i s tossed thi s way and that, dri ven
forward and backward, and the l i ght i s obscured to i t and the truth not seen. And
yet, there i t i s i n front of us. And to me i t was a great matter that both my l i terary
work and my zest for l earni ng shoul d be known by that man. For i f he approved
them, I woul d be even more fond of hi m; but i f he di sapproved, thi s vai n heart of
mi ne, devoi d of thy steadfastness, woul d have been offended. And so I medi tated on
the probl em of the beauti ful and the fi tti ng and dedi cated my essay on i t to hi m. I
regarded i t admi ri ngl y, though no one el se joi ned me i n doi ng so.
CHAPTER XV
24. But I had not seen how the mai n poi nt i n these great i ssues [concerni ng
the nature of beauty] l ay real l y i n thy craftsmanshi p, O Omni potent One, who
al one doest great wonders.
107
And so my mi nd ranged through the corporeal forms,
and I defi ned and di sti ngui shed as beauti ful that whi ch i s so i n i tsel f and as fi t
that whi ch i s beauti ful i n rel ati on to some other thi ng. Thi s argument I supported
by corporeal exampl es. And I turned my attenti on to the nature of the mi nd, but the
fal se opi ni ons whi ch I hel d concerni ng spi ri tual thi ngs prevented me from seei ng
the truth. Sti l l , the very power of truth forced i tsel f on my gaze, and I turned my
throbbi ng soul away from i ncorporeal substance to qual i ti es of l i ne and col or and
shape, and, because I coul d not percei ve these wi th my mi nd, I concl uded that I
coul d not percei ve my mi nd. And si nce I l oved the peace whi ch i s i n vi rtue, and
hated the di scord whi ch i s i n vi ce, I di sti ngui shed between the uni ty there i s i n
vi rtue and the di scord there i s i n vi ce. I concei ved that uni ty consi sted of the
rati onal soul and the nature of truth and the hi ghest good. But I i magi ned that i n
the di suni ty there was some ki nd of substance of i rrati onal l i fe and some ki nd of
enti ty i n the supreme evi l . Thi s evi l I thought was not onl y a substance but real l i fe
as wel l , and yet I bel i eved that i t di d not come from thee, O my God, from whom are
al l thi ngs. And the fi rst I cal l ed a Monad, as i f i t were a soul wi thout sex. The other
I cal l ed a Dyad, whi ch showed i tsel f i n anger i n deeds of vi ol ence, i n deeds of
passi on and l ust--but I di d not know what I was tal ki ng about. For I had not
understood nor had I been taught that evi l i s not a substance at al l and that our
soul i s not that supreme and unchangeabl e good.
25. For just as i n vi ol ent acts, i f the emoti on of the soul from whence the
vi ol ent i mpul se spri ngs i s depraved and asserts i tsel f i nsol entl y and muti nousl y--
and just as i n the acts of passi on, i f the affecti on of the soul whi ch gi ves ri se to
carnal desi res i s unrestrai ned--so al so, i n the same way, errors and fal se opi ni ons
contami nate l i fe i f the rati onal soul i tsel f i s depraved. Thus i t was then wi th me, for
I was i gnorant that my soul had to be enl i ghtened by another l i ght, i f i t was to be
partaker of the truth, si nce i t i s not i tsel f the essence of truth. For thou wi l t l i ght
106
Eph. 4:14.
107
Ps. 72:18.
my l amp; the Lord my God wi l l l i ghten my darkness
108
; and of hi s ful l ness have
we al l recei ved,
109
for that was the true Li ght that l i ghteth every man that cometh
i nto the worl d
110
; for i n thee there i s no vari abl eness, nei ther shadow of
turni ng.
111
26. But I pushed on toward thee, and was pressed back by thee that I mi ght
know the taste of death, for thou resi stest the proud.
112
And what greater pri de
coul d there be for me than, wi th a marvel ous madness, to assert mysel f to be that
nature whi ch thou art? I was mutabl e--thi s much was cl ear enough to me because
my very l ongi ng to become wi se arose out of a wi sh to change from worse to better--
yet I chose rather to thi nk thee mutabl e than to thi nk that I was not as thou art.
For thi s reason I was thrust back; thou di dst resi st my fi ckl e pri de. Thus I went on
i magi ni ng corporeal forms, and, si nce I was fl esh I accused the fl esh, and, si nce I
was a wi nd that passes away,
113
I di d not return to thee but went wanderi ng and
wanderi ng on toward those thi ngs that have no bei ng--nei ther i n thee nor i n me, nor
i n the body. These fanci es were not created for me by thy truth but concei ved by my
own vai n concei t out of sensory noti ons. And I used to ask thy fai thful chi l dren--my
own fel l ow ci ti zens, from whom I stood unconsci ousl y exi l ed--I used fl i ppantl y and
fool i shl y to ask them, Why, then, does the soul , whi ch God created, err? But I
woul d not al l ow anyone to ask me, Why, then, does God err? I preferred to contend
that thy i mmutabl e substance was i nvol ved i n error through necessi ty rather than
admi t that my own mutabl e substance had gone astray of i ts own free wi l l and had
fal l en i nto error as i ts puni shment.
27. I was about twenty-si x or twenty-seven when I wrote those books,
anal yzi ng and refl ecti ng upon those sensory i mages whi ch cl amored i n the ears of
my heart. I was strai ni ng those ears to hear thy i nward mel ody, O sweet Truth,
ponderi ng on the beauti ful and the fi tti ng and l ongi ng to stay and hear thee, and
to rejoi ce greatl y at the Bri degrooms voi ce.
114
Yet I coul d not, for by the cl amor of
my own errors I was hurri ed outsi de mysel f, and by the wei ght of my own pri de I
was si nki ng ever l ower. You di d not make me to hear joy and gl adness, nor di d the
bones rejoi ce whi ch were not yet humbl ed.
115
28. And what di d i t profi t me that, when I was scarcel y twenty years ol d, a
book of Ari stotl es enti tl ed The Ten Categories
116
fel l i nto my hands? On the very
ti tl e of thi s I hung as on somethi ng great and di vi ne, si nce my rhetori c master at
Carthage and others who had reputati ons for l earni ng were al ways referri ng to i t
wi th such swel l i ng pri de. I read i t by mysel f and understood i t. And what di d i t
mean that when I di scussed i t wi th others they sai d that even wi th the assi stance of
tutors--who not onl y expl ai ned i t oral l y, but drew many di agrams i n the sand--they
scarcel y understood i t and coul d tel l me no more about i t than I had acqui red i n the
readi ng of i t by mysel f al one? For the book appeared to me to speak pl ai nl y enough
about substances, such as a man; and of thei r qual i ti es, such as the shape of a man,
108
Ps. 18:28.
109
John 1:16.
110
John 1:9.
111
Cf. James 1:17.
112
Cf. James 4:6; 1 Peter 5:5.
113
Ps. 78:39.
114
Cf. Jer. 25:10; 33:11; John 3:29; Rev. 18:23.
115
Cf. Ps. 51:8.
116
The fi rst secti on of the Organon, whi ch anal yzes the probl em of predi cati on and devel ops "the ten
categori es" of essence and the ni ne "acci dents." Thi s exi sted i n a Lati n transl ati on by Vi ctori nus, who
al so transl ated the Enneads of Pl oti nus, to whi ch Augusti ne refers i nfra, Bk. VI I I , Ch. I I , 3.
hi s ki nd, hi s stature, how many feet hi gh, and hi s fami l y rel ati onshi p, hi s status,
when born, whether he i s si tti ng or standi ng, i s shod or armed, or i s doi ng
somethi ng or havi ng somethi ng done to hi m--and al l the i nnumerabl e thi ngs that
are cl assi fi ed under these ni ne categori es (of whi ch I have gi ven some exampl es) or
under the chi ef category of substance.
29. What di d al l thi s profi t me, si nce i t actual l y hi ndered me when I i magi ned
that whatever exi sted was comprehended wi thi n those ten categori es? I tri ed to
i nterpret them, O my God, so that even thy wonderful and unchangeabl e uni ty
coul d be understood as subjected to thy own magni tude or beauty, as i f they exi sted
i n thee as thei r Subject--as they do i n corporeal bodi es--whereas thou art thysel f thy
own magni tude and beauty. A body i s not great or fai r because i t i s a body, because,
even i f i t were l ess great or l ess beauti ful , i t woul d sti l l be a body. But my
concepti on of thee was fal si ty, not truth. I t was a fi gment of my own mi sery, not the
stabl e ground of thy bl essedness. For thou hadst commanded, and i t was carri ed out
i n me, that the earth shoul d bri ng forth bri ars and thorns for me, and that wi th
heavy l abor I shoul d gai n my bread.
117
30. And what di d i t profi t me that I coul d read and understand for mysel f al l
the books I coul d get i n the so-cal l ed l i beral arts, when I was actual l y a worthl ess
sl ave of wi cked l ust? I took del i ght i n them, not knowi ng the real source of what i t
was i n them that was true and certai n. For I had my back toward the l i ght, and my
face toward the thi ngs on whi ch the l i ght fal l s, so that my face, whi ch l ooked toward
the i l l umi nated thi ngs, was not i tsel f i l l umi nated. Whatever was wri tten i n any of
the fi el ds of rhetori c or l ogi c, geometry, musi c, or ari thmeti c, I coul d understand
wi thout any great di ffi cul ty and wi thout the i nstructi on of another man. Al l thi s
thou knowest, O Lord my God, because both qui ckness i n understandi ng and
acuteness i n i nsi ght are thy gi fts. Yet for such gi fts I made no thank offeri ng to
thee. Therefore, my abi l i ti es served not my profi t but rather my l oss, si nce I went
about tryi ng to bri ng so l arge a part of my substance i nto my own power. And I di d
not store up my strength for thee, but went away from thee i nto the far country to
prosti tute my gi fts i n di sordered appeti te.
118
And what di d these abi l i ti es profi t me,
i f I di d not put them to good use? I di d not real i ze that those arts were understood
wi th great di ffi cul ty, even by the studi ous and the i ntel l i gent, unti l I tri ed to expl ai n
them to others and di scovered that even the most profi ci ent i n them fol l owed my
expl anati ons al l too sl owl y.
31. And yet what di d thi s profi t me, si nce I sti l l supposed that thou, O Lord
God, the Truth, wert a bri ght and vast body and that I was a parti cl e of that body?
O perversi ty gone too far! But so i t was wi th me. And I do not bl ush, O my God, to
confess thy merci es to me i n thy presence, or to cal l upon thee--any more than I di d
not bl ush when I openl y avowed my bl asphemi es before men, and bayed, houndl i ke,
agai nst thee. What good was i t for me that my ni mbl e wi t coul d run through those
studi es and di sentangl e al l those knotty vol umes, wi thout hel p from a human
teacher, si nce al l the whi l e I was erri ng so hateful l y and wi th such sacri l ege as far
as the ri ght substance of pi ous fai th was concerned? And what ki nd of burden was i t
for thy l i ttl e ones to have a far sl ower wi t, si nce they di d not use i t to depart from
thee, and si nce they remai ned i n the nest of thy Church to become safel y fl edged
and to nouri sh the wi ngs of l ove by the food of a sound fai th.
O Lord our God, under the shadow of thy wi ngs l et us hope--defend us and
support us.
119
Thou wi l t bear us up when we are l i ttl e and even down to our gray
117
Cf. Gen. 3:18.
118
Agai n, the Prodi gal Son theme; cf. Luke 15:13.
119
Cf. Ps. 17:8.
hai rs thou wi l t carry us. For our stabi l i ty, when i t i s i n thee, i s stabi l i ty i ndeed; but
when i t i s i n oursel ves, then i t i s al l unstabl e. Our good l i ves forever wi th thee, and
when we turn from thee wi th aversi on, we fal l i nto our own perversi on. Let us now,
O Lord, return that we be not overturned, because wi th thee our good l i ves wi thout
bl emi sh--for our good i s thee thysel f. And we need not fear that we shal l fi nd no
pl ace to return to because we fel l away from i t. For, i n our absence, our home--whi ch
i s thy eterni ty--does not fal l away.
BOOK FI VE
A year of decision. Faustus comes to Carthage and Augustine is disenchanted in his
hope for solid demonstration of the truth of Manichean doctrine. He decides to flee
from his known troubles at Carthage to troubles yet unknown at Rome. His
experiences at Rome prove disappointing and he applies for a teaching post at Milan.
Here he meets Ambrose, who confronts him as an impressive witness for Catholic
Christianity and opens out the possibilities of the allegorical interpretation of
Scripture. Augustine decides to become a Christian catechumen.
CHAPTER I
1. Accept thi s sacri fi ce of my confessi ons from the hand of my tongue. Thou
di dst form i t and hast prompted i t to prai se thy name. Heal al l my bones and l et
them say, O Lord, who i s l i ke unto thee?
120
I t i s not that one who confesses to thee
i nstructs thee as to what goes on wi thi n hi m. For the cl osed heart does not bar thy
si ght i nto i t, nor does the hardness of our heart hol d back thy hands, for thou canst
soften i t at wi l l , ei ther by mercy or i n vengeance, and there i s no one who can hi de
hi msel f from thy heat.
121
But l et my soul prai se thee, that i t may l ove thee, and l et
i t confess thy merci es to thee, that i t may prai se thee. Thy whol e creati on prai ses
thee wi thout ceasi ng: the spi ri t of man, by hi s own l i ps, by hi s own voi ce, l i fted up to
thee; ani mal s and l i fel ess matter by the mouths of those who medi tate upon them.
Thus our soul s may cl i mb out of thei r weari ness toward thee and l ean on those
thi ngs whi ch thou hast created and pass through them to thee, who di dst create
them i n a marvel ous way. Wi th thee, there i s refreshment and true strength.
CHAPTER I I
2. Let the restl ess and the unri ghteous depart, and fl ee away from thee. Even
so, thou seest them and thy eye pi erces through the shadows i n whi ch they run. For
l o, they l i ve i n a worl d of beauty and yet are themsel ves most foul . And how have
they harmed thee? Or i n what way have they di scredi ted thy power, whi ch i s just
and perfect i n i ts rul e even to the l ast i tem i n creati on? I ndeed, where woul d they
fl y when they fl ed from thy presence? Woul dst thou be unabl e to fi nd them? But
they fl ed that they mi ght not see thee, who sawest them; that they mi ght be bl i nded
and stumbl e i nto thee. But thou forsakest nothi ng that thou hast made. The
unri ghteous stumbl e agai nst thee that they may be justl y pl agued, fl eei ng from thy
gentl eness and col l i di ng wi th thy justi ce, and fal l i ng on thei r own rough paths. For
i n truth they do not know that thou art everywhere; that no pl ace contai ns thee,
and that onl y thou art near even to those who go farthest from thee. Let them,
therefore, turn back and seek thee, because even i f they have abandoned thee, thei r
Creator, thou hast not abandoned thy creatures. Let them turn back and seek thee--
and l o, thou art there i n thei r hearts, there i n the hearts of those who confess to
thee. Let them cast themsel ves upon thee, and weep on thy bosom, after al l thei r
120
Ps. 35:10.
121
Cf. Ps. 19:6.
weary wanderi ngs; and thou wi l t gentl y wi pe away thei r tears.
122
And they weep
the more and rejoi ce i n thei r weepi ng, si nce thou, O Lord, art not a man of fl esh and
bl ood. Thou art the Lord, who canst remake what thou di dst make and canst
comfort them. And where was I when I was seeki ng thee? There thou wast, before
me; but I had gone away, even from mysel f, and I coul d not fi nd mysel f, much l ess
thee.
CHAPTER I I I
3. Let me now l ay bare i n the si ght of God the twenty-ni nth year of my age.
There had just come to Carthage a certai n bi shop of the Mani cheans, Faustus by
name, a great snare of the devi l ; and many were entangl ed by hi m through the
charm of hi s el oquence. Now, even though I found thi s el oquence admi rabl e, I was
begi nni ng to di sti ngui sh the charm of words from the truth of thi ngs, whi ch I was
eager to l earn. Nor di d I consi der the di sh as much as I di d the ki nd of meat that
thei r famous Faustus served up to me i n i t. Hi s fame had run before hi m, as one
very ski l l ed i n an honorabl e l earni ng and pre-emi nentl y ski l l ed i n the l i beral arts.
And as I had al ready read and stored up i n memory many of the i njuncti ons
of the phi l osophers, I began to compare some of thei r doctri nes wi th the tedi ous
fabl es of the Mani cheans; and i t struck me that the probabi l i ty was on the si de of
the phi l osophers, whose power reached far enough to enabl e them to form a fai r
judgment of the worl d, even though they had not di scovered the soverei gn Lord of i t
al l . For thou art great, O Lord, and thou hast respect unto the l owl y, but the proud
thou knowest afar off.
123
Thou drawest near to none but the contri te i n heart, and
canst not be found by the proud, even i f i n thei r i nqui si ti ve ski l l they may number
the stars and the sands, and map out the constel l ati ons, and trace the courses of the
pl anets.
4. For i t i s by the mi nd and the i ntel l i gence whi ch thou gavest them that they
i nvesti gate these thi ngs. They have di scovered much; and have foretol d, many years
i n advance, the day, the hour, and the extent of the ecl i pses of those l umi nari es, the
sun and the moon. Thei r cal cul ati ons di d not fai l , and i t came to pass as they
predi cted. And they wrote down the rul es they had di scovered, so that to thi s day
they may be read and from them may be cal cul ated i n what year and month and
day and hour of the day, and at what quarter of i ts l i ght, ei ther the moon or the sun
wi l l be ecl i psed, and i t wi l l come to pass just as predi cted. And men who are
i gnorant i n these matters marvel and are amazed; and those who understand them
exul t and are exal ted. Both, by an i mpi ous pri de, wi thdraw from thee and forsake
thy l i ght. They foretel l an ecl i pse of the sun before i t happens, but they do not see
thei r own ecl i pse whi ch i s even now occurri ng. For they do not ask, as rel i gi ous men
shoul d, what i s the source of the i ntel l i gence by whi ch they i nvesti gate these
matters. Moreover, when they di scover that thou di dst make them, they do not gi ve
themsel ves up to thee that thou mi ghtest preserve what thou hast made. Nor do
they offer, as sacri fi ce to thee, what they have made of themsel ves. For they do not
sl aughter thei r own pri de--as they do the sacri fi ci al fowl s--nor thei r own curi osi ti es
by whi ch, l i ke the fi shes of the sea, they wander through the unknown paths of the
deep. Nor do they curb thei r own extravagances as they do those of the beasts of
the fi el d,
124
so that thou, O Lord, a consumi ng fi re,
125
mayest burn up thei r
122
Cf. Rev. 21:4.
123
Cf. Ps. 138:6.
124
Ps. 8:7.
125
Heb. 12:29.
mortal cares and renew them unto i mmortal i ty.
5. They do not know the way whi ch i s thy word, by whi ch thou di dst create al l
the thi ngs that are and al so the men who measure them, and the senses by whi ch
they percei ve what they measure, and the i ntel l i gence whereby they di scern the
patterns of measure. Thus they know not that thy wi sdom i s not a matter of
measure.
126
But the Onl y Begotten hath been made unto us wi sdom, and
ri ghteousness, and sancti fi cati on
127
and hath been numbered among us and pai d
tri bute to Caesar.
128
And they do not know thi s Way by whi ch they coul d descend
from themsel ves to hi m i n order to ascend through hi m to hi m. They di d not know
thi s Way, and so they fanci ed themsel ves exal ted to the stars and the shi ni ng
heavens. And l o, they fel l upon the earth, and thei r fool i sh heart was darkened.
129
They saw many true thi ngs about the creature but they do not seek wi th true pi ety
for the Truth, the Archi tect of Creati on, and hence they do not fi nd hi m. Or, i f they
do fi nd hi m, and know that he i s God, they do not gl ori fy hi m as God; nei ther are
they thankful but become vai n i n thei r i magi nati on, and say that they themsel ves
are wi se, and attri bute to themsel ves what i s thi ne. At the same ti me, wi th the most
perverse bl i ndness, they wi sh to attri bute to thee thei r own qual i ty--so that they
l oad thei r l i es on thee who art the Truth, changi ng the gl ory of the i ncorrupti bl e
God for an i mage of corrupti bl e man, and bi rds, and four-footed beasts, and creepi ng
thi ngs.
130
They exchanged thy truth for a l i e, and worshi ped and served the
creature rather than the Creator.
131
6. Yet I remembered many a true sayi ng of the phi l osophers about the
creati on, and I saw the confi rmati on of thei r cal cul ati ons i n the orderl y sequence of
seasons and i n the vi si bl e evi dence of the stars. And I compared thi s wi th the
doctri nes of Mani , who i n hi s vol umi nous fol l y wrote many books on these subjects.
But I coul d not di scover there any account, of ei ther the sol sti ces or the equi noxes,
or the ecl i pses of the sun and moon, or anythi ng of the sort that I had l earned i n the
books of secul ar phi l osophy. But sti l l I was ordered to bel i eve, even where the i deas
di d not correspond wi th--even when they contradi cted--the rati onal theori es
establ i shed by mathemati cs and my own eyes, but were very di fferent.
CHAPTER I V
7. Yet, O Lord God of Truth, i s any man pl easi ng to thee because he knows
these thi ngs? No, for surel y that man i s unhappy who knows these thi ngs and does
not know thee. And that man i s happy who knows thee, even though he does not
know these thi ngs. He who knows both thee and these thi ngs i s not the more
bl essed for hi s l earni ng, for thou onl y art hi s bl essi ng, i f knowi ng thee as God he
gl ori fi es thee and gi ves thanks and does not become vai n i n hi s thoughts.
For just as that man who knows how to possess a tree, and gi ve thanks to
thee for the use of i t--al though he may not know how many feet hi gh i t i s or how
wi de i t spreads--i s better than the man who can measure i t and count al l i ts
branches, but nei ther owns i t nor knows or l oves i ts Creator: just so i s a fai thful
man who possesses the worl ds weal th as though he had nothi ng, and possesses al l
thi ngs through hi s uni on through thee, whom al l thi ngs serve, even though he does
126
An echo of the openi ng sentence, Bk. I , Ch. I , 1.
127
Cf. 1 Cor. 1:30.
128
Cf. Matt. 22:21.
129
Cf. Rom. 1:21ff.
130
Cf. Rom. 1:23.
131
Cf. Rom. 1:25.
not know the ci rcl i ngs of the Great Bear. Just so i t i s fool i sh to doubt that thi s
fai thful man may trul y be better than the one who can measure the heavens and
number the stars and wei gh the el ements, but who i s forgetful of thee who hast set
i n order al l thi ngs i n number, wei ght, and measure.
132
CHAPTER V
8. And who ordered thi s Mani to wri te about these thi ngs, knowl edge of
whi ch i s not necessary to pi ety? For thou hast sai d to man, Behol d, godl i ness i s
wi sdom
133
--and of thi s he mi ght have been i gnorant, however perfectl y he may
have known these other thi ngs. Yet, si nce he di d not know even these other thi ngs,
and most i mpudentl y dared to teach them, i t i s cl ear that he had no knowl edge of
pi ety. For, even when we have a knowl edge of thi s worl dl y l ore, i t i s fol l y to make a
profession of i t, when pi ety comes from confession to thee. From pi ety, therefore,
Mani had gone astray, and al l hi s show of l earni ng onl y enabl ed the trul y l earned to
percei ve, from hi s i gnorance of what they knew, how l i ttl e he was to be trusted to
make pl ai n these more real l y di ffi cul t matters. For he di d not ai m to be l i ghtl y
esteemed, but went around tryi ng to persuade men that the Hol y Spi ri t, the
Comforter and Enri cher of thy fai thful ones, was personal l y resi dent i n hi m wi th
ful l authori ty. And, therefore, when he was detected i n mani fest errors about the
sky, the stars, the movements of the sun and moon, even though these thi ngs do not
rel ate to rel i gi ous doctri ne, the i mpi ous presumpti on of the man became cl earl y
evi dent; for he not onl y taught thi ngs about whi ch he was i gnorant but al so
perverted them, and thi s wi th pri de so fool i sh and mad that he sought to cl ai m that
hi s own utterances were as i f they had been those of a di vi ne person.
9. When I hear of a Chri sti an brother, i gnorant of these thi ngs, or i n error
concerni ng them, I can tol erate hi s uni nformed opi ni on; and I do not see that any
l ack of knowl edge as to the form or nature of thi s materi al creati on can do hi m
much harm, as l ong as he does not hol d a bel i ef i n anythi ng whi ch i s unworthy of
thee, O Lord, the Creator of al l . But i f he thi nks that hi s secul ar knowl edge pertai ns
to the essence of the doctri ne of pi ety, or ventures to assert dogmati c opi ni ons i n
matters i n whi ch he i s i gnorant--there l i es the i njury. And yet even a weakness such
as thi s, i n the i nfancy of our fai th, i s tol erated by our Mother Chari ty unti l the new
man can grow up unto a perfect man, and not be carri ed away wi th every wi nd of
doctri ne.
134
But Mani had presumed to be at once the teacher, author, gui de, and l eader
of al l whom he coul d persuade to bel i eve thi s, so that al l who fol l owed hi m bel i eved
that they were fol l owi ng not an ordi nary man but thy Hol y Spi ri t. And who woul d
not judge that such great madness, when i t once stood convi cted of fal se teachi ng,
shoul d then be abhorred and utterl y rejected? But I had not yet cl earl y deci ded
whether the al ternati on of day and ni ght, and of l onger and shorter days and ni ghts,
and the ecl i pses of sun and moon, and whatever el se I read about i n other books
coul d be expl ai ned consi stentl y wi th hi s theori es. I f they coul d have been so
expl ai ned, there woul d sti l l have remai ned a doubt i n my mi nd whether the theori es
were ri ght or wrong. Yet I was prepared, on the strength of hi s reputed godl i ness, to
rest my fai th on hi s authori ty.
132
Wi s. 11:20.
133
Cf. Job 28:28.
134
Eph. 4:13, 14.
CHAPTER VI
10. For al most the whol e of the ni ne years that I l i stened wi th unsettl ed mi nd
to the Mani chean teachi ng I had been l ooki ng forward wi th unbounded eagerness to
the arri val of thi s Faustus. For al l the other members of the sect that I happened to
meet, when they were unabl e to answer the questi ons I rai sed, al ways referred me
to hi s comi ng. They promi sed that, i n di scussi on wi th hi m, these and even greater
di ffi cul ti es, i f I had them, woul d be qui te easi l y and ampl y cl eared away. When at
l ast he di d come, I found hi m to be a man of pl easant speech, who spoke of the very
same thi ngs they themsel ves di d, al though more fl uentl y and i n a more agreeabl e
styl e. But what profi t was there to me i n the el egance of my cupbearer, si nce he
coul d not offer me the more preci ous draught for whi ch I thi rsted? My ears had
al ready had thei r fi l l of such stuff, and now i t di d not seem any better because i t
was better expressed nor more true because i t was dressed up i n rhetori c; nor coul d
I thi nk the mans soul necessari l y wi se because hi s face was comel y and hi s
l anguage el oquent. But they who extol l ed hi m to me were not competent judges.
They thought hi m abl e and wi se because hi s el oquence del i ghted them. At the same
ti me I real i zed that there i s another ki nd of man who i s suspi ci ous even of truth
i tsel f, i f i t i s expressed i n smooth and fl owi ng l anguage. But thou, O my God, hadst
al ready taught me i n wonderful and marvel ous ways, and therefore I bel i eved--
because i t i s true--that thou di dst teach me and that besi de thee there i s no other
teacher of truth, wherever truth shi nes forth. Al ready I had l earned from thee that
because a thi ng i s el oquentl y expressed i t shoul d not be taken to be as necessari l y
true; nor because i t i s uttered wi th stammeri ng l i ps shoul d i t be supposed fal se.
Nor, agai n, i s i t necessari l y true because rudel y uttered, nor untrue because the
l anguage i s bri l l i ant. Wi sdom and fol l y both are l i ke meats that are whol esome and
unwhol esome, and courtl y or si mpl e words are l i ke town-made or rusti c vessel s--
both ki nds of food may be served i n ei ther ki nd of di sh.
11. That eagerness, therefore, wi th whi ch I had so l ong awai ted thi s man,
was i n truth del i ghted wi th hi s acti on and feel i ng i n a di sputati on, and wi th the
fl uent and apt words wi th whi ch he cl othed hi s i deas. I was del i ghted, therefore,
and I joi ned wi th others--and even exceeded them--i n exal ti ng and prai si ng hi m. Yet
i t was a source of annoyance to me that, i n hi s l ecture room, I was not al l owed to
i ntroduce and rai se any of those questi ons that troubl ed me, i n a fami l i ar exchange
of di scussi on wi th hi m. As soon as I found an opportuni ty for thi s, and gai ned hi s
ear at a ti me when i t was not i nconveni ent for hi m to enter i nto a di scussi on wi th
me and my fri ends, I l ai d before hi m some of my doubts. I di scovered at once that he
knew nothi ng of the l i beral arts except grammar, and that onl y i n an ordi nary way.
He had, however, read some of Tul l ys orati ons, a very few books of Seneca, and
some of the poets, and such few books of hi s own sect as were wri tten i n good Lati n.
Wi th thi s meager l earni ng and hi s dai l y practi ce i n speaki ng, he had acqui red a sort
of el oquence whi ch proved the more del i ghtful and enti ci ng because i t was under the
di recti on of a ready wi t and a sort of nati ve grace. Was thi s not even as I now recal l
i t, O Lord my God, Judge of my consci ence? My heart and my memory are l ai d open
before thee, who wast even then gui di ng me by the secret i mpul se of thy provi dence
and wast setti ng my shameful errors before my face so that I mi ght see and hate
them.
CHAPTER VI I
12. For as soon as i t became pl ai n to me that Faustus was i gnorant i n those
arts i n whi ch I had bel i eved hi m emi nent, I began to despai r of hi s bei ng abl e to
cl ari fy and expl ai n al l these perpl exi ti es that troubl ed me--though I real i zed that
such i gnorance need not have affected the authenti ci ty of hi s pi ety, i f he had not
been a Mani chean. For thei r books are ful l of l ong fabl es about the sky and the
stars, the sun and the moon; and I had ceased to bel i eve hi m abl e to show me i n any
sati sfactory fashi on what I so ardentl y desi red: whether the expl anati ons contai ned
i n the Mani chean books were better or at l east as good as the mathemati cal
expl anati ons I had read el sewhere. But when I proposed that these subjects shoul d
be consi dered and di scussed, he qui te modestl y di d not dare to undertake the task,
for he was aware that he had no knowl edge of these thi ngs and was not ashamed to
confess i t. For he was not one of those tal kati ve peopl e--from whom I had endured so
much--who undertook to teach me what I wanted to know, and then sai d nothi ng.
Faustus had a heart whi ch, i f not ri ght toward thee, was at l east not al together
fal se toward hi msel f; for he was not i gnorant of hi s own i gnorance, and he di d not
choose to be entangl ed i n a controversy from whi ch he coul d not draw back or reti re
graceful l y. For thi s I l i ked hi m al l the more. For the modesty of an i ngeni ous mi nd
i s a fi ner thi ng than the acqui si ti on of that knowl edge I desi red; and thi s I found to
be hi s atti tude toward al l abstruse and di ffi cul t questi ons.
13. Thus the zeal wi th whi ch I had pl unged i nto the Mani chean system was
checked, and I despai red even more of thei r other teachers, because Faustus who
was so famous among them had turned out so poorl y i n the vari ous matters that
puzzl ed me. And so I began to occupy mysel f wi th hi m i n the study of hi s own
favori te pursui t, that of l i terature, i n whi ch I was al ready teachi ng a cl ass as a
professor of rhetori c among the young Carthagi ni an students. Wi th Faustus then I
read whatever he hi msel f wi shed to read, or what I judged sui tabl e to hi s bent of
mi nd. But al l my endeavors to make further progress i n Mani chei sm came
compl etel y to an end through my acquai ntance wi th that man. I di d not whol l y
separate mysel f from them, but as one who had not yet found anythi ng better I
deci ded to content mysel f, for the ti me bei ng, wi th what I had stumbl ed upon one
way or another, unti l by chance somethi ng more desi rabl e shoul d present i tsel f.
Thus that Faustus who had entrapped so many to thei r death--though nei ther
wi l l i ng nor wi tti ng i t--now began to l oosen the snare i n whi ch I had been caught.
For thy hands, O my God, i n the hi dden desi gn of thy provi dence di d not desert my
soul ; and out of the bl ood of my mothers heart, through the tears that she poured
out by day and by ni ght, there was a sacri fi ce offered to thee for me, and by
marvel ous ways thou di dst deal wi th me. For i t was thou, O my God, who di dst i t:
for the steps of a man are ordered by the Lord, and he shal l choose hi s way.
135
How shal l we attai n sal vati on wi thout thy hand remaki ng what i t had al ready
made?
CHAPTER VI I I
14. Thou di dst so deal wi th me, therefore, that I was persuaded to go to Rome
and teach there what I had been teachi ng at Carthage. And how I was persuaded to
do thi s I wi l l not omi t to confess to thee, for i n thi s al so the profoundest worki ngs of
thy wi sdom and thy constant mercy toward us must be pondered and acknowl edged.
I di d not wi sh to go to Rome because of the ri cher fees and the hi gher di gni ty whi ch
my fri ends promi sed me there--though these consi derati ons di d affect my deci si on.
My pri nci pal and al most sol e moti ve was that I had been i nformed that the students
there studi ed more qui etl y and were better kept under the control of stern
di sci pl i ne, so that they di d not capri ci ousl y and i mpudentl y rush i nto the cl assroom
135
Ps. 36:23 (Vul gate).
of a teacher not thei r own--i ndeed, they were not admi tted at al l wi thout the
permi ssi on of the teacher. At Carthage, on the contrary, there was a shameful and
i ntemperate l i cense among the students. They burst i n rudel y and, wi th furi ous
gestures, woul d di srupt the di sci pl i ne whi ch the teacher had establ i shed for the
good of hi s pupi l s. Many outrages they perpetrated wi th astoundi ng effrontery,
thi ngs that woul d be puni shabl e by l aw i f they were not sustai ned by custom. Thus
custom makes pl ai n that such behavi or i s al l the more worthl ess because i t al l ows
men to do what thy eternal l aw never wi l l al l ow. They thi nk that they act thus wi th
i mpuni ty, though the very bl i ndness wi th whi ch they act i s thei r puni shment, and
they suffer far greater harm than they i nfl i ct.
The manners that I woul d not adopt as a student I was compel l ed as a
teacher to endure i n others. And so I was gl ad to go where al l who knew the
si tuati on assured me that such conduct was not al l owed. But thou, O my refuge
and my porti on i n the l and of the l i vi ng,
136
di dst goad me thus at Carthage so that
I mi ght thereby be pul l ed away from i t and change my worl dl y habi tati on for the
preservati on of my soul . At the same ti me, thou di dst offer me at Rome an
enti cement, through the agency of men enchanted wi th thi s death-i n-l i fe--by thei r
i nsane conduct i n the one pl ace and thei r empty promi ses i n the other. To correct
my wanderi ng footsteps, thou di dst secretl y empl oy thei r perversi ty and my own.
For those who di sturbed my tranqui l l i ty were bl i nded by shameful madness and
al so those who al l ured me el sewhere had nothi ng better than the earths cunni ng.
And I who hated actual mi sery i n the one pl ace sought fi cti ti ous happi ness i n the
other.
15. Thou knewest the cause of my goi ng from one country to the other, O God,
but thou di dst not di scl ose i t ei ther to me or to my mother, who gri eved deepl y over
my departure and fol l owed me down to the sea. She cl asped me ti ght i n her
embrace, wi l l i ng ei ther to keep me back or to go wi th me, but I decei ved her,
pretendi ng that I had a fri end whom I coul d not l eave unti l he had a favorabl e wi nd
to set sai l . Thus I l i ed to my mother--and such a mother!--and escaped. For thi s too
thou di dst merci ful l y pardon me--fool that I was--and di dst preserve me from the
waters of the sea for the water of thy grace; so that, when I was puri fi ed by that, the
fountai n of my mothers eyes, from whi ch she had dai l y watered the ground for me
as she prayed to thee, shoul d be dri ed. And, si nce she refused to return wi thout me,
I persuaded her, wi th some di ffi cul ty, to remai n that ni ght i n a pl ace qui te cl ose to
our shi p, where there was a shri ne i n memory of the bl essed Cypri an. That ni ght I
sl i pped away secretl y, and she remai ned to pray and weep. And what was i t, O
Lord, that she was aski ng of thee i n such a fl ood of tears but that thou woul dst not
al l ow me to sai l ? But thou, taki ng thy own secret counsel and noti ng the real poi nt
to her desi re, di dst not grant what she was then aski ng i n order to grant to her the
thi ng that she had al ways been aski ng.
The wi nd bl ew and fi l l ed our sai l s, and the shore dropped out of si ght. Wi l d
wi th gri ef, she was there the next morni ng and fi l l ed thy ears wi th compl ai nts and
groans whi ch thou di dst di sregard, al though, at the very same ti me, thou wast
usi ng my l ongi ngs as a means and wast hasteni ng me on to the ful fi l l ment of al l
l ongi ng. Thus the earthl y part of her l ove to me was justl y purged by the scourge of
sorrow. Sti l l , l i ke al l mothers--though even more than others--she l oved to have me
wi th her, and di d not know what joy thou wast prepari ng for her through my goi ng
away. Not knowi ng thi s secret end, she wept and mourned and saw i n her agony the
i nheri tance of Eve--seeki ng i n sorrow what she had brought forth i n sorrow. And
yet, after accusi ng me of perfi dy and cruel ty, she sti l l conti nued her i ntercessi ons
136
Ps. 142:5.
for me to thee. She returned to her own home, and I went on to Rome.
CHAPTER I X
16. And l o, I was recei ved i n Rome by the scourge of bodi l y si ckness; and I
was very near to fal l i ng i nto hel l , burdened wi th al l the many and gri evous si ns I
had commi tted agai nst thee, mysel f, and others--al l over and above that fetter of
ori gi nal si n whereby we al l di e i n Adam. For thou hadst forgi ven me none of these
thi ngs i n Chri st, nei ther had he abol i shed by hi s cross the enmi ty
137
that I had
i ncurred from thee through my si ns. For how coul d he do so by the cruci fi xi on of a
phantom, whi ch was al l I supposed hi m to be? The death of my soul was as real then
as the death of hi s fl esh appeared to me unreal . And the l i fe of my soul was as fal se,
because i t was as unreal as the death of hi s fl esh was real , though I bel i eved i t not.
My fever i ncreased, and I was on the verge of passi ng away and peri shi ng;
for, i f I had passed away then, where shoul d I have gone but i nto the fi ery torment
whi ch my mi sdeeds deserved, measured by the truth of thy rul e? My mother knew
nothi ng of thi s; yet, far away, she went on prayi ng for me. And thou, present
everywhere, di dst hear her where she was and had pi ty on me where I was, so that I
regai ned my bodi l y heal th, al though I was sti l l di sordered i n my sacri l egi ous heart.
For that peri l of death di d not make me wi sh to be bapti zed. I was even better when,
as a l ad, I entreated bapti sm of my mothers devoti on, as I have al ready rel ated and
confessed.
138
But now I had si nce i ncreased i n di shonor, and I madl y scoffed at al l
the purposes of thy medi ci ne whi ch woul d not have al l owed me, though a si nner
such as I was, to di e a doubl e death. Had my mothers heart been pi erced wi th thi s
wound, i t never coul d have been cured, for I cannot adequatel y tel l of the l ove she
had for me, or how she sti l l travai l ed for me i n the spi ri t wi th a far keener angui sh
than when she bore me i n the fl esh.
17. I cannot concei ve, therefore, how she coul d have been heal ed i f my death
(sti l l i n my si ns) had pi erced her i nmost l ove. Where, then, woul d have been al l her
earnest, frequent, and ceasel ess prayers to thee? Nowhere but wi th thee. But
coul dst thou, O most merci ful God, despi se the contri te and humbl e heart
139
of
that pure and prudent wi dow, who was so constant i n her al ms, so graci ous and
attenti ve to thy sai nts, never mi ssi ng a vi si t to church twi ce a day, morni ng and
eveni ng--and thi s not for vai n gossi pi ng, nor ol d wi ves fabl es, but i n order that she
mi ght l i sten to thee i n thy sermons, and thou to her i n her prayers? Coul dst thou,
by whose gi fts she was so i nspi red, despi se and di sregard the tears of such a one
wi thout comi ng to her ai d--those tears by whi ch she entreated thee, not for gol d or
si l ver, and not for any changi ng or fl eeti ng good, but for the sal vati on of the soul of
her son? By no means, O Lord. I t i s certai n that thou wast near and wast heari ng
and wast carryi ng out the pl an by whi ch thou hadst predetermi ned i t shoul d be
done. Far be i t from thee that thou shoul dst have del uded her i n those vi si ons and
the answers she had recei ved from thee--some of whi ch I have menti oned, and
others not--whi ch she kept i n her fai thful heart, and, forever beseechi ng, urged
them on thee as i f they had thy own si gnature. For thou, because thy mercy
endureth forever,
140
hast so condescended to those whose debts thou hast pardoned
that thou l i kewi se dost become a debtor by thy promi ses.
137
Cf. Eph. 2:15.
138
Bk. I , Ch. XI , 17.
139
Cf. Ps. 51:17.
140
A constant theme i n The Psal ms and el sewhere; cf. Ps. 136.
CHAPTER X
18. Thou di dst restore me then from that i l l ness, and di dst heal the son of thy
handmai d i n hi s body, that he mi ght l i ve for thee and that thou mi ghtest endow hi m
wi th a better and more certai n heal th. After thi s, at Rome, I agai n joi ned those
del udi ng and del uded sai nts; and not thei r hearers onl y, such as the man was i n
whose house I had fal l en si ck, but al so wi th those whom they cal l ed the el ect. For
i t sti l l seemed to me that i t i s not we who si n, but some other nature si nned i n us.
And i t grati fi ed my pri de to be beyond bl ame, and when I di d anythi ng wrong not to
have to confess that I had done wrong--that thou mi ghtest heal my soul because i t
had si nned agai nst thee
141
--and I l oved to excuse my soul and to accuse somethi ng
el se i nsi de me (I knew not what) but whi ch was not I . But, assuredl y, i t was I , and i t
was my i mpi ety that had di vi ded me agai nst mysel f. That si n then was al l the more
i ncurabl e because I di d not deem mysel f a si nner. I t was an execrabl e i ni qui ty, O
God Omni potent, that I woul d have preferred to have thee defeated i n me, to my
destructi on, than to be defeated by thee to my sal vati on. Not yet, therefore, hadst
thou set a watch upon my mouth and a door around my l i ps that my heart mi ght
not i ncl i ne to evi l speech, to make excuse for si n wi th men that work i ni qui ty.
142
And, therefore, I conti nued sti l l i n the company of thei r el ect.
19. But now, hopel ess of gai ni ng any profi t from that fal se doctri ne, I began
to hol d more l oosel y and negl i gentl y even to those poi nts whi ch I had deci ded to rest
content wi th, i f I coul d fi nd nothi ng better. I was now hal f i ncl i ned to bel i eve that
those phi l osophers whom they cal l The Academi cs
143
were wi ser than the rest i n
hol di ng that we ought to doubt everythi ng, and i n mai ntai ni ng that man does not
have the power of comprehendi ng any certai n truth, for, al though I had not yet
understood thei r meani ng, I was ful l y persuaded that they thought just as they are
commonl y reputed to do. And I di d not fai l openl y to di ssuade my host from hi s
confi dence whi ch I observed that he had i n those fi cti ons of whi ch the works of Mani
are ful l . For al l thi s, I was sti l l on terms of more i nti mate fri endshi p wi th these
peopl e than wi th others who were not of thei r heresy. I di d not i ndeed defend i t wi th
my former ardor; but my fami l i ari ty wi th that group--and there were many of them
conceal ed i n Rome at that ti me
144
--made me sl ower to seek any other way. Thi s was
parti cul arl y easy si nce I had no hope of fi ndi ng i n thy Church the truth from whi ch
they had turned me asi de, O Lord of heaven and earth, Creator of al l thi ngs vi si bl e
and i nvi si bl e. And i t sti l l seemed to me most unseeml y to bel i eve that thou coul dst
have the form of human fl esh and be bounded by the bodi l y shape of our l i mbs. And
when I desi red to medi tate on my God, I di d not know what to thi nk of but a huge
extended body--for what di d not have bodi l y extensi on di d not seem to me to exi st--
and thi s was the greatest and al most the sol e cause of my unavoi dabl e errors.
20. And thus I al so bel i eved that evi l was a si mi l ar ki nd of substance, and
that i t had i ts own hi deous and deformed extended body--ei ther i n a dense form
whi ch they cal l ed the earth or i n a thi n and subtl e form as, for exampl e, the
substance of the ai r, whi ch they i magi ned as some mal i gnant spi ri t penetrati ng that
141
Cf. Ps. 41:4.
142
Cf. Ps 141:3f.
143
Fol l owers of the skepti cal tradi ti on establ i shed i n the Pl atoni c Academy by Arcesi l aus and
Carneades i n the thi rd century B.C. They taught the necessi ty of , suspended judgment, i n al l
questi ons of truth, and woul d al l ow nothi ng more than the consent of probabi l i ty. Thi s tradi ti on was
known i n Augusti ne's ti me chi efl y through the wri ti ngs of Ci cero; cf. hi s Academica. Thi s ki nd of
skepti ci sm shook Augusti ne's compl acency severel y, and he wrote one of hi s fi rst di al ogues, Contra
Academicos, i n an effort to cl ear up the probl em posed thereby.
144
The Mani cheans were under an offi ci al ban i n Rome.
earth. And because my pi ety--such as i t was--sti l l compel l ed me to bel i eve that the
good God never created any evi l substance, I formed the i dea of two masses, one
opposed to the other, both i nfi ni te but wi th the evi l more contracted and the good
more expansi ve. And from thi s di seased begi nni ng, the other sacri l eges fol l owed
after.
For when my mi nd tri ed to turn back to the Cathol i c fai th, I was cast down,
si nce the Cathol i c fai th was not what I judged i t to be. And i t seemed to me a
greater pi ety to regard thee, my God--to whom I make confessi on of thy merci es--as
i nfi ni te i n al l respects save that one: where the extended mass of evi l stood opposed
to thee, where I was compel l ed to confess that thou art fi ni te--than i f I shoul d thi nk
that thou coul dst be confi ned by the form of a human body on every si de. And i t
seemed better to me to bel i eve that no evi l had been created by thee--for i n my
i gnorance evi l appeared not onl y to be some ki nd of substance but a corporeal one at
that. Thi s was because I had, thus far, no concepti on of mi nd, except as a subtl e
body di ffused throughout l ocal spaces. Thi s seemed better than to bel i eve that
anythi ng coul d emanate from thee whi ch had the character that I consi dered evi l to
be i n i ts nature. And I bel i eved that our Savi our hi msel f al so--thy Onl y Begotten--
had been brought forth, as i t were, for our sal vati on out of the mass of thy bri ght
shi ni ng substance. So that I coul d bel i eve nothi ng about hi m except what I was abl e
to harmoni ze wi th these vai n i magi nati ons. I thought, therefore, that such a nature
coul d not be born of the Vi rgi n Mary wi thout bei ng mi ngl ed wi th the fl esh, and I
coul d not see how the di vi ne substance, as I had concei ved i t, coul d be mi ngl ed thus
wi thout bei ng contami nated. I was afrai d, therefore, to bel i eve that he had been
born i n the fl esh, l est I shoul d al so be compel l ed to bel i eve that he had been
contami nated by the fl esh. Now wi l l thy spi ri tual ones smi l e bl andl y and l ovi ngl y at
me i f they read these confessi ons. Yet such was I .
CHAPTER XI
21. Furthermore, the thi ngs they censured i n thy Scri ptures I thought
i mpossi bl e to be defended. And yet, occasi onal l y, I desi red to confer on vari ous
matters wi th someone wel l l earned i n those books, to test what he thought of them.
For al ready the words of one El pi di us, who spoke and di sputed face to face agai nst
these same Mani cheans, had begun to i mpress me, even when I was at Carthage;
because he brought forth thi ngs out of the Scri ptures that were not easi l y wi thstood,
to whi ch thei r answers appeared to me feebl e. One of thei r answers they di d not
gi ve forth publ i cl y, but onl y to us i n pri vate--when they sai d that the wri ti ngs of the
New Testament had been tampered wi th by unknown persons who desi red to
i ngraft the Jewi sh l aw i nto the Chri sti an fai th. But they themsel ves never brought
forward any uncorrupted copi es. Sti l l thi nki ng i n corporeal categori es and very
much ensnared and to some extent sti fl ed, I was borne down by those concepti ons of
bodi l y substance. I panted under thi s l oad for the ai r of thy truth, but I was not abl e
to breathe i t pure and undefi l ed.
CHAPTER XI I
22. I set about di l i gentl y to practi ce what I came to Rome to do--the teachi ng
of rhetori c. The fi rst task was to bri ng together i n my home a few peopl e to whom
and through whom I had begun to be known. And l o, I then began to l earn that
other offenses were commi tted i n Rome whi ch I had not had to bear i n Afri ca. Just
as I had been tol d, those ri otous di srupti ons by young bl ackguards were not
practi ced here. Yet, now, my fri ends tol d me, many of the Roman students--breakers
of fai th, who, for the l ove of money, set a smal l val ue on justi ce--woul d conspi re
together and suddenl y transfer to another teacher, to evade payi ng thei r masters
fees. My heart hated such peopl e, though not wi th a perfect hatred
145
; for
doubtl ess I hated them more because I was to suffer from them than on account of
thei r own i l l i ci t acts. Sti l l , such peopl e are base i ndeed; they forni cate agai nst thee,
for they l ove the transi tory mockeri es of temporal thi ngs and the fi l thy gai n whi ch
begri mes the hand that grabs i t; they embrace the fl eeti ng worl d and scorn thee,
who abi dest and i nvi test us to return to thee and who pardonest the prosti tuted
human soul when i t does return to thee. Now I hate such crooked and perverse men,
al though I l ove them i f they wi l l be corrected and come to prefer the l earni ng they
obtai n to money and, above al l , to prefer thee to such l earni ng, O God, the truth and
ful l ness of our posi ti ve good, and our most pure peace. But then the wi sh was
stronger i n me for my own sake not to suffer evi l from them than was my desi re
that they shoul d become good for thy sake.
CHAPTER XI I I
23. When, therefore, the offi ci al s of Mi l an sent to Rome, to the prefect of the
ci ty, to ask that he provi de them wi th a teacher of rhetori c for thei r ci ty and to send
hi m at the publ i c expense, I appl i ed for the job through those same persons, drunk
wi th the Mani chean vani ti es, to be freed from whom I was goi ng away--though
nei ther they nor I were aware of i t at the ti me. They recommended that
Symmachus, who was then prefect, after he had proved me by audi ti on, shoul d
appoi nt me.
And to Mi l an I came, to Ambrose the bi shop, famed through the whol e worl d
as one of the best of men, thy devoted servant. Hi s el oquent di scourse i n those ti mes
abundantl y provi ded thy peopl e wi th the fl our of thy wheat, the gl adness of thy oi l ,
and the sober i ntoxi cati on of thy wi ne.
146
To hi m I was l ed by thee wi thout my
knowl edge, that by hi m I mi ght be l ed to thee i n ful l knowl edge. That man of God
recei ved me as a father woul d, and wel comed my comi ng as a good bi shop shoul d.
And I began to l ove hi m, of course, not at the fi rst as a teacher of the truth, for I had
enti rel y despai red of fi ndi ng that i n thy Church--but as a fri endl y man. And I
studi ousl y l i stened to hi m--though not wi th the ri ght moti ve--as he preached to the
peopl e. I was tryi ng to di scover whether hi s el oquence came up to hi s reputati on,
and whether i t fl owed ful l er or thi nner than others sai d i t di d. And thus I hung on
hi s words i ntentl y, but, as to hi s subject matter, I was onl y a carel ess and
contemptuous l i stener. I was del i ghted wi th the charm of hi s speech, whi ch was
more erudi te, though l ess cheerful and soothi ng, than Faustus styl e. As for subject
matter, however, there coul d be no compari son, for the l atter was wanderi ng around
i n Mani chean decepti ons, whi l e the former was teachi ng sal vati on most soundl y.
But sal vati on i s far from the wi cked,
147
such as I was then when I stood before
hi m. Yet I was drawi ng nearer, gradual l y and unconsci ousl y.
CHAPTER XI V
24. For, al though I took no troubl e to l earn what he sai d, but onl y to hear how
145
Ps. 139:22.
146
A mi xed fi gure here, put together from Ps. 4:7; 45:7; 104:15; the phrase sobriam vini ebrietatem i s
al most certai nl y an echo of a stanza of one of Ambrose's own hymns, Splendor paternae gloriae,
whi ch Augusti ne had doubtl ess l earned i n Mi l an: "Bibamus sobriam ebrietatem spiritus." Cf. W.I .
Merri l l , Latin Hymns (Boston, 1904), pp. 4, 5.
147
Ps. 119:155.
he sai d i t--for thi s empty concern remai ned foremost wi th me as l ong as I despai red
of fi ndi ng a cl ear path from man to thee--yet, al ong wi th the el oquence I pri zed,
there al so came i nto my mi nd the i deas whi ch I i gnored; for I coul d not separate
them. And, whi l e I opened my heart to acknowl edge how ski l l ful l y he spoke, there
al so came an awareness of how truly he spoke--but onl y gradual l y. Fi rst of al l , hi s
i deas had al ready begun to appear to me defensi bl e; and the Cathol i c fai th, for
whi ch I supposed that nothi ng coul d be sai d agai nst the onsl aught of the
Mani cheans, I now real i zed coul d be mai ntai ned wi thout presumpti on. Thi s was
especi al l y cl ear after I had heard one or two parts of the Ol d Testament expl ai ned
al l egori cal l y--whereas before thi s, when I had i nterpreted them l i teral l y, they had
ki l l ed me spi ri tual l y.
148
However, when many of these passages i n those books
were expounded to me thus, I came to bl ame my own despai r for havi ng bel i eved
that no repl y coul d be gi ven to those who hated and scoffed at the Law and the
Prophets. Yet I di d not see that thi s was reason enough to fol l ow the Cathol i c way,
just because i t had l earned advocates who coul d answer objecti ons adequatel y and
wi thout absurdi ty. Nor coul d I see that what I had hel d to heretofore shoul d now be
condemned, because both si des were equal l y defensi bl e. For that way di d not appear
to me yet vanqui shed; but nei ther di d i t seem yet vi ctori ous.
25. But now I earnestl y bent my mi nd to requi re i f there was possi bl e any
way to prove the Mani cheans gui l ty of fal sehood. I f I coul d have concei ved of a
spi ri tual substance, al l thei r stronghol ds woul d have col l apsed and been cast out of
my mi nd. But I coul d not. Sti l l , concerni ng the body of thi s worl d, nature as a whol e-
-now that I was abl e to consi der and compare such thi ngs more and more--I now
deci ded that the majori ty of the phi l osophers hel d the more probabl e vi ews. So, i n
what I thought was the method of the Academi cs--doubti ng everythi ng and
fl uctuati ng between al l the opti ons--I came to the concl usi on that the Mani cheans
were to be abandoned. For I judged, even i n that peri od of doubt, that I coul d not
remai n i n a sect to whi ch I preferred some of the phi l osophers. But I refused to
commi t the cure of my fai nti ng soul to the phi l osophers, because they were wi thout
the savi ng name of Chri st. I resol ved, therefore, to become a catechumen i n the
Cathol i c Church--whi ch my parents had so much urged upon me--unti l somethi ng
certai n shone forth by whi ch I mi ght gui de my course.
148
Cf. 2 Cor. 3:6. The di scovery of the al l egori cal method of i nterpretati on opened new hori zons for
Augusti ne i n Bi bl i cal i nterpretati on and he adopted i t as a settl ed pri nci pl e i n hi s sermons and
commentari es; cf. M. Pontet, L'Exgse de Saint Augustin prdicateur (Lyons, 1946).
BOOK SI X
Turmoil in the twenties. Monica follows Augustine to Milan and finds him a
catechumen in the Catholic Church. Both admire Ambrose but Augustine gets no
help from him on his personal problems. Ambition spurs and Alypius and Nebridius
join him in a confused quest for the happy life. Augustine becomes engaged,
dismisses his first mistress, takes another, and continues his fruitless search for
truth.
CHAPTER I
1. O Hope from my youth,
149
where wast thou to me and where hadst thou
gone away?
150
For hadst thou not created me and di fferenti ated me from the beasts
of the fi el d and the bi rds of the ai r, maki ng me wi ser than they? And yet I was
wanderi ng about i n a dark and sl i ppery way, seeki ng thee outsi de mysel f and thus
not fi ndi ng the God of my heart. I had gone down i nto the depths of the sea and had
l ost fai th, and had despai red of ever fi ndi ng the truth.
By thi s ti me my mother had come to me, havi ng mustered the courage of
pi ety, fol l owi ng over sea and l and, secure i n thee through al l the peri l s of the
journey. For i n the dangers of the voyage she comforted the sai l ors--to whom the
i nexperi enced voyagers, when al armed, were accustomed to go for comfort--and
assured them of a safe arri val because she had been so assured by thee i n a vi si on.
She found me i n deadl y peri l through my despai r of ever fi ndi ng the truth.
But when I tol d her that I was now no l onger a Mani chean, though not yet a
Cathol i c Chri sti an, she di d not l eap for joy as i f thi s were unexpected; for she had
al ready been reassured about that part of my mi sery for whi ch she had mourned me
as one dead, but al so as one who woul d be rai sed to thee. She had carri ed me out on
the bi er of her thoughts, that thou mi ghtest say to the wi dows son, Young man, I
say unto you, ari se!
151
and then he woul d revi ve and begi n to speak, and thou
woul dst del i ver hi m to hi s mother. Therefore, her heart was not agi tated wi th any
vi ol ent exul tati on when she heard that so great a part of what she dai l y entreated
thee to do had actual l y al ready been done--that, though I had not yet grasped the
truth, I was rescued from fal sehood. I nstead, she was ful l y confi dent that thou who
hadst promi sed the whol e woul d gi ve her the rest, and thus most cal ml y, and wi th a
ful l y confi dent heart, she repl i ed to me that she bel i eved, i n Chri st, that before she
di ed she woul d see me a fai thful Cathol i c. And she sai d no more than thi s to me.
But to thee, O Fountai n of mercy, she poured out sti l l more frequent prayers and
tears that thou woul dst hasten thy ai d and enl i ghten my darkness, and she hurri ed
al l the more zeal ousl y to the church and hung upon the words of Ambrose, prayi ng
for the fountai n of water that spri ngs up i nto everl asti ng l i fe.
152
For she l oved that
man as an angel of God, si nce she knew that i t was by hi m that I had been brought
thus far to that waveri ng state of agi tati on I was now i n, through whi ch she was
ful l y persuaded I shoul d pass from si ckness to heal th, even though i t woul d be after
a sti l l sharper convul si on whi ch physi ci ans cal l the cri si s.
149
Cf. Ps. 71:5.
150
Cf. Ps. 10:1.
151
Cf. Luke 7:11-17.
152
Cf. John 4:14.
CHAPTER I I
2. So al so my mother brought to certai n oratori es, erected i n the memory of
the sai nts, offeri ngs of porri dge, bread, and wi ne--as had been her custom i n Afri ca--
and she was forbi dden to do so by the doorkeeper [ostiarius]. And as soon as she
l earned that i t was the bi shop who had forbi dden i t, she acqui esced so devoutl y and
obedi entl y that I mysel f marvel ed how readi l y she coul d bri ng hersel f to turn cri ti c
of her own customs, rather than questi on hi s prohi bi ti on. For wi nebi bbi ng had not
taken possessi on of her spi ri t, nor di d the l ove of wi ne sti mul ate her to hate the
truth, as i t does too many, both mal e and femal e, who turn as si ck at a hymn to
sobri ety as drunkards do at a draught of water. When she had brought her basket
wi th the festi ve gi fts, whi ch she woul d taste fi rst hersel f and gi ve the rest away, she
woul d never al l ow hersel f more than one l i ttl e cup of wi ne, di l uted accordi ng to her
own temperate pal ate, whi ch she woul d taste out of courtesy. And, i f there were
many oratori es of departed sai nts that ought to be honored i n the same way, she
sti l l carri ed around wi th her the same l i ttl e cup, to be used everywhere. Thi s
became not onl y very much watered but al so qui te tepi d wi th carryi ng i t about. She
woul d di stri bute i t by smal l si ps to those around, for she sought to sti mul ate thei r
devoti on, not pl easure.
But as soon as she found that thi s custom was forbi dden by that famous
preacher and most pi ous prel ate, even to those who woul d use i t i n moderati on, l est
thereby i t mi ght be an occasi on of gl uttony for those who were al ready drunken (and
al so because these funereal memori al s were very much l i ke some of the
supersti ti ous practi ces of the pagans), she most wi l l i ngl y abstai ned from i t. And, i n
pl ace of a basket fi l l ed wi th frui ts of the earth, she had l earned to bri ng to the
oratori es of the martyrs a heart ful l of purer peti ti ons, and to gi ve al l that she coul d
to the poor--so that the Communi on of the Lords body mi ght be ri ghtl y cel ebrated i n
those pl aces where, after the exampl e of hi s Passi on, the martyrs had been
sacri fi ced and crowned. But yet i t seems to me, O Lord my God--and my heart
thi nks of i t thi s way i n thy si ght--that my mother woul d probabl y not have gi ven
way so easi l y to the rejecti on of thi s custom i f i t had been forbi dden by another,
whom she di d not l ove as she di d Ambrose. For, out of her concern for my sal vati on,
she l oved hi m most dearl y; and he l oved her trul y, on account of her fai thful
rel i gi ous l i fe, i n whi ch she frequented the church wi th good works, fervent i n
spi ri t.
153
Thus he woul d, when he saw me, often burst forth i nto prai se of her,
congratul ati ng me that I had such a mother--l i ttl e knowi ng what a son she had i n
me, who was sti l l a skepti c i n al l these matters and who coul d not concei ve that the
way of l i fe coul d be found out.
CHAPTER I I I
3. Nor had I come yet to groan i n my prayers that thou woul dst hel p me. My
mi nd was whol l y i ntent on knowl edge and eager for di sputati on. Ambrose hi msel f I
esteemed a happy man, as the worl d counted happi ness, because great personages
hel d hi m i n honor. Onl y hi s cel i bacy appeared to me a pai nful burden. But what
hope he cheri shed, what struggl es he had agai nst the temptati ons that beset hi s
hi gh stati on, what sol ace i n adversi ty, and what savory joys thy bread possessed for
the hi dden mouth of hi s heart when feedi ng on i t, I coul d nei ther
conjecture nor experi ence.
Nor di d he know my own frustrati ons, nor the pi t of my danger. For I coul d
153
Rom. 12:11.
not request of hi m what I wanted as I wanted i t, because I was debarred from
heari ng and speaki ng to hi m by crowds of busy peopl e to whose i nfi rmi ti es he
devoted hi msel f. And when he was not engaged wi th them--whi ch was never for
l ong at a ti me--he was ei ther refreshi ng hi s body wi th necessary food or hi s mi nd
wi th readi ng.
Now, as he read, hi s eyes gl anced over the pages and hi s heart searched out
the sense, but hi s voi ce and tongue were si l ent. Often when we came to hi s room--for
no one was forbi dden to enter, nor was i t hi s custom that the arri val of vi si tors
shoul d be announced to hi m--we woul d see hi m thus readi ng to hi msel f. After we
had sat for a l ong ti me i n si l ence--for who woul d dare i nterrupt one so i ntent?--we
woul d then depart, real i zi ng that he was unwi l l i ng to be di stracted i n the l i ttl e ti me
he coul d gai n for the recrui ti ng of hi s mi nd, free from the cl amor of other mens
busi ness. Perhaps he was fearful l est, i f the author he was studyi ng shoul d express
hi msel f vaguel y, some doubtful and attenti ve hearer woul d ask hi m to expound i t or
di scuss some of the more abstruse questi ons, so that he coul d not get over as much
materi al as he wi shed, i f hi s ti me was occupi ed wi th others. And even a truer reason
for hi s readi ng to hi msel f mi ght have been the care for preservi ng hi s voi ce, whi ch
was very easi l y weakened. Whatever hi s moti ve was i n so doi ng, i t was doubtl ess, i n
such a man, a good one.
4. But actual l y I coul d fi nd no opportuni ty of putti ng the questi ons I desi red
to that hol y oracl e of thi ne i n hi s heart, unl ess i t was a matter whi ch coul d be deal t
wi th bri efl y. However, those surgi ngs i n me requi red that he shoul d gi ve me hi s ful l
l ei sure so that I mi ght pour them out to hi m; but I never found hi m so. I heard hi m,
i ndeed, every Lords Day, ri ghtl y di vi di ng the word of truth
154
among the peopl e.
And I became al l the more convi nced that al l those knots of crafty cal umni es whi ch
those decei vers of ours had kni t together agai nst the di vi ne books coul d be
unravel ed.
I soon understood that the statement that man was made after the i mage of
Hi m that created hi m
155
was not understood by thy spi ri tual sons--whom thou
hadst regenerated through the Cathol i c Mother
156
through grace--as i f they bel i eved
and i magi ned that thou wert bounded by a human form, al though what was the
nature of a spi ri tual substance I had not the fai ntest or vaguest noti on. Sti l l
rejoi ci ng, I bl ushed that for so many years I had bayed, not agai nst the Cathol i c
fai th, but agai nst the fabl es of fl eshl y i magi nati on. For I had been both i mpi ous and
rash i n thi s, that I had condemned by pronouncement what I ought to have l earned
by i nqui ry. For thou, O Most Hi gh, and most near, most secret, yet most present,
who dost not have l i mbs, some of whi ch are l arger and some smal l er, but who art
whol l y everywhere and nowhere i n space, and art not shaped by some corporeal
form: thou di dst create man after thy own i mage and, see, he dwel l s i n space, both
head and feet.
CHAPTER I V
5. Si nce I coul d not then understand how thi s i mage of thi ne coul d subsi st, I
shoul d have knocked on the door and propounded the doubt as to how i t was to be
bel i eved, and not have i nsul ti ngl y opposed i t as i f i t were actual l y bel i eved.
Therefore, my anxi ety as to what I coul d retai n as certai n gnawed al l the more
sharpl y i nto my soul , and I fel t qui te ashamed because duri ng the l ong ti me I had
154
2 Ti m. 2:15.
155
Cf. Gen. 1:26f.
156
The Church.
been del uded and decei ved by the [Mani chean] promi ses of certai nti es, I had, wi th
chi l di sh petul ance, prated of so many uncertai nti es as i f they were certai n. That
they were fal sehoods became apparent to me onl y afterward. However, I was certai n
that they were uncertai n and si nce I had hel d them as certai nl y uncertai n I had
accused thy Cathol i c Church wi th a bl i nd contenti ousness. I had not yet di scovered
that i t taught the truth, but I now knew that i t di d not teach what I had so
vehementl y accused i t of. I n thi s respect, at l east, I was confounded and converted;
and I rejoi ced, O my God, that the one Church, the body of thy onl y Son--i n whi ch
the name of Chri st had been seal ed upon me as an i nfant--di d not rel i sh these
chi l di sh tri fl es and di d not mai ntai n i n i ts sound doctri ne any tenet that woul d
i nvol ve pressi ng thee, the Creator of al l , i nto space, whi ch, however extended and
i mmense, woul d sti l l be bounded on al l si des--l i ke the shape of a human body.
6. I was al so gl ad that the ol d Scri ptures of the Law and the Prophets were
l ai d before me to be read, not now wi th an eye to what had seemed absurd i n them
when formerl y I censured thy hol y ones for thi nki ng thus, when they actual l y di d
not thi nk i n that way. And I l i stened wi th del i ght to Ambrose, i n hi s sermons to the
peopl e, often recommendi ng thi s text most di l i gentl y as a rul e: The l etter ki l l s, but
the spi ri t gi ves l i fe,
157
whi l e at the same ti me he drew asi de the mysti c vei l and
opened to vi ew the spi ri tual meani ng of what seemed to teach perverse doctri ne i f i t
were taken accordi ng to the l etter. I found nothi ng i n hi s teachi ngs that offended
me, though I coul d not yet know for certai n whether what he taught was true. For
al l thi s ti me I restrai ned my heart from assenti ng to anythi ng, feari ng to fal l
headl ong i nto error. I nstead, by thi s hangi ng i n suspense, I was bei ng strangl ed.
158
For my desi re was to be as certai n of i nvi si bl e thi ngs as I was that seven and three
are ten. I was not so deranged as to bel i eve that this coul d not be comprehended,
but my desi re was to have other thi ngs as cl ear as thi s, whether they were physi cal
objects, whi ch were not present to my senses, or spi ri tual objects, whi ch I di d not
know how to concei ve of except i n physi cal terms.
I f I coul d have bel i eved, I mi ght have been cured, and, wi th the si ght of my
soul cl eared up, i t mi ght i n some way have been di rected toward thy truth, whi ch
al ways abi des and fai l s i n nothi ng. But, just as i t happens that a man who has tri ed
a bad physi ci an fears to trust hi msel f wi th a good one, so i t was wi th the heal th of
my soul , whi ch coul d not be heal ed except by bel i evi ng. But l est i t shoul d bel i eve
fal sehoods, i t refused to be cured, resi sti ng thy hand, who hast prepared for us the
medi ci nes of fai th and appl i ed them to the mal adi es of the whol e worl d, and
endowed them wi th such great effi cacy.
CHAPTER V
7. Sti l l , from thi s ti me forward, I began to prefer the Cathol i c doctri ne. I fel t
that i t was wi th moderati on and honesty that i t commanded thi ngs to be bel i eved
that were not demonstrated--whether they coul d be demonstrated, but not to
everyone, or whether they coul d not be demonstrated at al l . Thi s was far better than
the method of the Mani cheans, i n whi ch our credul i ty was mocked by an audaci ous
promi se of knowl edge and then many fabul ous and absurd thi ngs were forced upon
bel i evers because they were i ncapabl e of demonstrati on. After that, O Lord, l i ttl e by
l i ttl e, wi th a gentl e and most merci ful hand, drawi ng and cal mi ng my heart, thou
di dst persuade me that, i f I took i nto account the mul ti tude of thi ngs I had never
157
2 Cor. 3:6.
158
Another reference to the Academi c doctri ne of suspendium (); cf. Bk. V, Ch. X, 19, and al so
Enchiridion, VI I , 20.
seen, nor been present when they were enacted--such as many of the events of
secul ar hi story; and the numerous reports of pl aces and ci ti es whi ch I had not seen;
or such as my rel ati ons wi th many fri ends, or physi ci ans, or wi th these men and
those--that unl ess we shoul d bel i eve, we shoul d do nothi ng at al l i n thi s l i fe.
159
Fi nal l y, I was i mpressed wi th what an unal terabl e assurance I bel i eved whi ch two
peopl e were my parents, though thi s was i mpossi bl e for me to know otherwi se than
by hearsay. By bri ngi ng al l thi s i nto my consi derati on, thou di dst persuade me that
i t was not the ones who bel i eved thy books--whi ch wi th so great authori ty thou hast
establ i shed among nearl y al l nati ons--but those who di d not bel i eve them who were
to be bl amed. Moreover, those men were not to be l i stened to who woul d say to me,
How do you know that those Scri ptures were i mparted to manki nd by the Spi ri t of
the one and most true God? For thi s was the poi nt that was most of al l to be
bel i eved, si nce no wrangl i ngs of bl asphemous questi ons such as I had read i n the
books of the sel f-contradi cti ng phi l osophers coul d once snatch from me the bel i ef
that thou dost exi st--al though what thou art I di d not know--and that to thee
bel ongs the governance of human affai rs.
8. Thi s much I bel i eved, some ti mes more strongl y than other ti mes. But I
al ways bel i eved both that thou art and that thou hast a care for us,
160
al though I
was i gnorant both as to what shoul d be thought about thy substance and as to
whi ch way l ed, or l ed back, to thee. Thus, si nce we are too weak by unai ded reason
to fi nd out truth, and si nce, because of thi s, we need the authori ty of the Hol y
Wri ti ngs, I had now begun to bel i eve that thou woul dst not, under any
ci rcumstances, have gi ven such emi nent authori ty to those Scri ptures throughout
al l l ands i f i t had not been that through them thy wi l l may be bel i eved i n and that
thou mi ghtest be sought. For, as to those passages i n the Scri pture whi ch had
heretofore appeared i ncongruous and offensi ve to me, now that I had heard several
of them expounded reasonabl y, I coul d see that they were to be resol ved by the
mysteri es of spi ri tual i nterpretati on. The authori ty of Scri pture seemed to me al l
the more revered and worthy of devout bel i ef because, al though i t was vi si bl e for al l
to read, i t reserved the ful l majesty of i ts secret wi sdom wi thi n i ts spi ri tual
profundi ty. Whi l e i t stooped to al l i n the great pl ai nness of i ts l anguage and
si mpl i ci ty of styl e, i t yet requi red the cl osest attenti on of the most seri ous-mi nded--
so that i t mi ght recei ve al l i nto i ts common bosom, and di rect some few through i ts
narrow passages toward thee, yet many more than woul d have been the case had
there not been i n i t such a l ofty authori ty, whi ch neverthel ess al l ured mul ti tudes to
i ts bosom by i ts hol y humi l i ty. I conti nued to refl ect upon these thi ngs, and thou
wast wi th me. I si ghed, and thou di dst hear me. I vaci l l ated, and thou gui dedst me.
I roamed the broad way of the worl d, and thou di dst not desert me.
CHAPTER VI
9. I was sti l l eagerl y aspi ri ng to honors, money, and matri mony; and thou
di dst mock me. I n pursui t of these ambi ti ons I endured the most bi tter hardshi ps, i n
whi ch thou wast bei ng the more graci ous the l ess thou woul dst al l ow anythi ng that
was not thee to grow sweet to me. Look i nto my heart, O Lord, whose prompti ng i t i s
that I shoul d recal l al l thi s, and confess i t to thee. Now l et my soul cl eave to thee,
159
Nisi crederentur, omnino in hac vita nihil ageremus, whi ch shoul d be set al ongsi de the more
famous nisi crederitis, non intelligetis (Enchiridion, XI I I , 14). Thi s i s the basi c assumpti on of
Augusti ne's whol e epi stemol ogy. See Robert E. Cushman, "Fai th and Reason i n the Thought of St.
Augusti ne," i n Church History (XI X, 4, 1950), pp. 271-294.
160
Cf. Heb. 11:6.
now that thou hast freed her from that fast-sti cki ng gl ue of death.
How wretched she was! And thou di dst i rri tate her sore wound so that she
mi ght forsake al l el se and turn to thee--who art above al l and wi thout whom al l
thi ngs woul d be nothi ng at al l --so that she shoul d be converted and heal ed. How
wretched I was at that ti me, and how thou di dst deal wi th me so as to make me
aware of my wretchedness, I recal l from the i nci dent of the day on whi ch I was
prepari ng to reci te a panegyri c on the emperor. I n i t I was to del i ver many a l i e, and
the l yi ng was to be appl auded by those who knew I was l yi ng. My heart was
agi tated wi th thi s sense of gui l t and i t seethed wi th the fever of my uneasi ness. For,
whi l e wal ki ng al ong one of the streets of Mi l an, I saw a poor beggar--wi th what I
bel i eve was a ful l bel l y--joki ng and hi l ari ous. And I si ghed and spoke to the fri ends
around me of the many sorrows that fl owed from our madness, because i n spi te of
al l our exerti ons--such as those I was then l abori ng i n, draggi ng the burden of my
unhappi ness under the spur of ambi ti on, and, by draggi ng i t, i ncreasi ng i t at the
same ti me--sti l l and al l we ai med onl y to attai n that very happi ness whi ch thi s
beggar had reached before us; and there was a gri m chance that we shoul d never
attai n i t! For what he had obtai ned through a few coi ns, got by hi s beggi ng, I was
sti l l schemi ng for by many a wretched and tortuous turni ng--namel y, the joy of a
passi ng fel i ci ty. He had not, i ndeed, gai ned true joy, but, at the same ti me, wi th al l
my ambi ti ons, I was seeki ng one sti l l more untrue. Anyhow, he was now joyous and
I was anxi ous. He was free from care, and I was ful l of al arms. Now, i f anyone
shoul d i nqui re of me whether I shoul d prefer to be merry or anxi ous, I woul d repl y,
Merry. Agai n, i f I had been asked whether I shoul d prefer to be as he was or as I
mysel f then was, I woul d have chosen to be mysel f; though I was beset wi th cares
and al arms. But woul d not thi s have been a fal se choi ce? Was the contrast val i d?
Actual l y, I ought not to prefer mysel f to hi m because I happened to be more l earned
than he was; for I got no great pl easure from my l earni ng, but sought, rather, to
pl ease men by i ts exhi bi ti on--and thi s not to i nstruct, but onl y to pl ease. Thus thou
di dst break my bones wi th the rod of thy correcti on.
10. Let my soul take i ts l eave of those who say: I t makes a di fference as to
the object from whi ch a man deri ves hi s joy. The beggar rejoi ced i n drunkenness;
you l onged to rejoi ce i n gl ory. What gl ory, O Lord? The ki nd that i s not i n thee, for,
just as hi s was no true joy, so was mi ne no true gl ory; but i t turned my head al l the
more. He woul d get over hi s drunkenness that same ni ght, but I had sl ept wi th
mi ne many a ni ght and ri sen agai n wi th i t, and was to sl eep agai n and ri se agai n
wi th i t, I know not how many ti mes. I t does i ndeed make a di fference as to the
object from whi ch a mans joy i s gai ned. I know thi s i s so, and I know that the joy of
a fai thful hope i s i ncomparabl y beyond such vani ty. Yet, at the same ti me, thi s
beggar was beyond me, for he trul y was the happi er man--not onl y because he was
thoroughl y steeped i n hi s mi rth whi l e I was torn to pi eces wi th my cares, but
because he had gotten hi s wi ne by gi vi ng good wi shes to the passers-by whi l e I was
fol l owi ng after the ambi ti on of my pri de by l yi ng. Much to thi s effect I sai d to my
good compani ons, and I saw how readi l y they reacted pretty much as I di d. Thus I
found that i t went i l l wi th me; and I fretted, and doubl ed that very i l l . And i f any
prosperi ty smi l ed upon me, I l oathed to sei ze i t, for al most before I coul d grasp i t, i t
woul d fl y away.
CHAPTER VI I
11. Those of us who were l i vi ng l i ke fri ends together used to bemoan our l ot
i n our common tal k; but I di scussed i t wi th Al ypi us and Nebri di us more especi al l y
and i n very fami l i ar terms. Al ypi us had been born i n the same town as I ; hi s
parents were of the hi ghest rank there, but he was a bi t younger than I . He had
studi ed under me when I fi rst taught i n our town, and then afterward at Carthage.
He esteemed me hi ghl y because I appeared to hi m good and l earned, and I esteemed
hi m for hi s i nborn l ove of vi rtue, whi ch was uncommonl y marked i n a man so young.
But i n the whi rl pool of Carthagi ni an fashi on--where fri vol ous spectacl es are hotl y
fol l owed--he had been i nvei gl ed i nto the madness of the gl adi atori al games. Whi l e
he was mi serabl y tossed about i n thi s fad, I was teachi ng rhetori c there i n a publ i c
school . At that ti me he was not attendi ng my cl asses because of some i l l feel i ng that
had ari sen between me and hi s father. I then came to di scover how fatal l y he doted
upon the ci rcus, and I was deepl y gri eved, for he seemed l i kel y to cast away hi s very
great promi se--i f, i ndeed, he had not al ready done so. Yet I had no means of
advi si ng hi m, or any way of recl ai mi ng hi m through restrai nt, ei ther by the
ki ndness of a fri end or by the authori ty of a teacher. For I i magi ned that hi s feel i ngs
toward me were the same as hi s fathers. But thi s turned out not to be the case.
I ndeed, di sregardi ng hi s fathers wi l l i n the matter, he began to be fri endl y and to
vi si t my l ecture room, to l i sten for a whi l e and then depart.
12. But i t sl i pped my memory to try to deal wi th hi s probl em, to prevent hi m
from rui ni ng hi s excel l ent mi nd i n hi s bl i nd and headstrong passi on for fri vol ous
sport. But thou, O Lord, who hol dest the hel m of al l that thou hast created,
161
thou
hadst not forgotten hi m who was one day to be numbered among thy sons, a chi ef
mi ni ster of thy sacrament.
162
And i n order that hi s amendment mi ght pl ai nl y be
attri buted to thee, thou broughtest i t about through me whi l e I knew nothi ng of i t.
One day, when I was si tti ng i n my accustomed pl ace wi th my schol ars before
me, he came i n, greeted me, sat hi msel f down, and fi xed hi s attenti on on the subject
I was then di scussi ng. I t so happened that I had a passage i n hand and, whi l e I was
i nterpreti ng i t, a si mi l e occurred to me, taken from the gl adi atori al games. I t struck
me as rel evant to make more pl easant and pl ai n the poi nt I wanted to convey by
addi ng a bi ti ng gi be at those whom that madness had enthral l ed. Thou knowest, O
our God, that I had no thought at that ti me of curi ng Al ypi us of that pl ague. But he
took i t to hi msel f and thought that I woul d not have sai d i t but for hi s sake. And
what any other man woul d have taken as an occasi on of offense agai nst me, thi s
worthy young man took as a reason for bei ng offended at hi msel f, and for l ovi ng me
the more ferventl y. Thou hast sai d i t l ong ago and wri tten i n thy Book, Rebuke a
wi se man, and he wi l l l ove you.
163
Now I had not rebuked hi m; but thou who canst
make use of everythi ng, both wi tti ng and unwi tti ng, and i n the order whi ch thou
thysel f knowest to be best--and that order i s ri ght--thou madest my heart and
tongue i nto burni ng coal s wi th whi ch thou mi ghtest cauteri ze and cure the hopeful
mi nd thus l angui shi ng. Let hi m be si l ent i n thy prai se who does not medi tate on thy
mercy, whi ch ri ses up i n my i nmost parts to confess to thee. For after that speech
Al ypi us rushed up out of that deep pi t i nto whi ch he had wi l l ful l y pl unged and i n
whi ch he had been bl i nded by i ts mi serabl e pl easures. And he roused hi s mi nd wi th
a resol ve to moderati on. When he had done thi s, al l the fi l th of the gl adi atori al
pl easures dropped away from hi m, and he went to them no more. Then he al so
prevai l ed upon hi s rel uctant father to l et hi m be my pupi l . And, at the sons urgi ng,
the father at l ast consented. Thus Al ypi us began agai n to hear my l ectures and
became i nvol ved wi th me i n the same supersti ti on, l ovi ng i n the Mani cheans that
outward di spl ay of asceti c di sci pl i ne whi ch he bel i eved was true and unfei gned. I t
161
Cf. Pl ato, Politicus, 273 D.
162
Al ypi us was more than Augusti ne's cl ose fri end; he became bi shop of Tagaste and was promi nent
i n l ocal Church affai rs i n the provi nce of Afri ca.
163
Prov. 9:8.
was, however, a sensel ess and seduci ng conti nence, whi ch ensnared preci ous soul s
who were not abl e as yet to reach the hei ght of true vi rtue, and who were easi l y
begui l ed wi th the veneer of what was onl y a shadowy and fei gned vi rtue.
CHAPTER VI I I
13. He had gone on to Rome before me to study l aw--whi ch was the worl dl y
way whi ch hi s parents were forever urgi ng hi m to pursue--and there he was carri ed
away agai n wi th an i ncredi bl e passi on for the gl adi atori al shows. For, al though he
had been utterl y opposed to such spectacl es and detested them, one day he met by
chance a company of hi s acquai ntances and fel l ow students returni ng from di nner;
and, wi th a fri endl y vi ol ence, they drew hi m, resi sti ng and objecti ng vehementl y,
i nto the amphi theater, on a day of those cruel and murderous shows. He protested
to them: Though you drag my body to that pl ace and set me down there, you cannot
force me to gi ve my mi nd or l end my eyes to these shows. Thus I wi l l be absent
whi l e present, and so overcome both you and them. When they heard thi s, they
dragged hi m on i n, probabl y i nterested to see whether he coul d do as he sai d. When
they got to the arena, and had taken what seats they coul d get, the whol e pl ace
became a tumul t of i nhuman frenzy. But Al ypi us kept hi s eyes cl osed and forbade
hi s mi nd to roam abroad after such wi ckedness. Woul d that he had shut hi s ears
al so! For when one of the combatants fel l i n the fi ght, a mi ghty cry from the whol e
audi ence sti rred hi m so strongl y that, overcome by curi osi ty and sti l l prepared (as
he thought) to despi se and ri se superi or to i t no matter what i t was, he opened hi s
eyes and was struck wi th a deeper wound i n hi s soul than the vi cti m whom he
desi red to see had been i n hi s body. Thus he fel l more mi serabl y than the one whose
fal l had rai sed that mi ghty cl amor whi ch had entered through hi s ears and
unl ocked hi s eyes to make way for the woundi ng and beati ng down of hi s soul ,
whi ch was more audaci ous than trul y val i ant--al so i t was weaker because i t
presumed on i ts own strength when i t ought to have depended on Thee. For, as soon
as he saw the bl ood, he drank i n wi th i t a savage temper, and he di d not turn away,
but fi xed hi s eyes on the bl oody pasti me, unwi tti ngl y dri nki ng i n the madness--
del i ghted wi th the wi cked contest and drunk wi th bl ood l ust. He was now no l onger
the same man who came i n, but was one of the mob he came i nto, a true compani on
of those who had brought hi m thi ther. Why need I say more? He l ooked, he shouted,
he was exci ted, and he took away wi th hi m the madness that woul d sti mul ate hi m
to come agai n: not onl y wi th those who fi rst enti ced hi m, but even wi thout them;
i ndeed, draggi ng i n others besi des. And yet from al l thi s, wi th a most powerful and
most merci ful hand, thou di dst pl uck hi m and taught hi m not to rest hi s confi dence
i n hi msel f but i n thee--but not ti l l l ong after.
CHAPTER I X
14. But thi s was al l bei ng stored up i n hi s memory as medi ci ne for the future.
So al so was that other i nci dent when he was sti l l studyi ng under me at Carthage
and was medi tati ng at noonday i n the market pl ace on what he had to reci te--as
schol ars usual l y have to do for practi ce--and thou di dst al l ow hi m to be arrested by
the pol i ce offi cers i n the market pl ace as a thi ef. I bel i eve, O my God, that thou di dst
al l ow thi s for no other reason than that thi s man who was i n the future to prove so
great shoul d now begi n to l earn that, i n maki ng just deci si ons, a man shoul d not
readi l y be condemned by other men wi th reckl ess credul i ty.
For as he was wal ki ng up and down al one before the judgment seat wi th hi s
tabl ets and pen, l o, a young man--another one of the schol ars, who was the real
thi ef--secretl y brought a hatchet and, wi thout Al ypi us seei ng hi m, got i n as far as
the l eaden bars whi ch protected the si l versmi th shop and began to hack away at the
l ead grati ngs. But when the noi se of the hatchet was heard the si l versmi ths bel ow
began to cal l to each other i n whi spers and sent men to arrest whomsoever they
shoul d fi nd. The thi ef heard thei r voi ces and ran away, l eavi ng hi s hatchet because
he was afrai d to be caught wi th i t. Now Al ypi us, who had not seen hi m come i n, got
a gl i mpse of hi m as he went out and noti ced that he went off i n great haste. Bei ng
curi ous to know the reasons, he went up to the pl ace, where he found the hatchet,
and stood wonderi ng and ponderi ng when, behol d, those that were sent caught hi m
al one, hol di ng the hatchet whi ch had made the noi se whi ch had startl ed them and
brought them there. They sei zed hi m and dragged hi m away, gatheri ng the tenants
of the market pl ace about them and boasti ng that they had caught a notori ous thi ef.
Thereupon he was l ed away to appear before the judge.
15. But thi s i s as far as hi s l esson was to go. For i mmedi atel y, O Lord, thou
di dst come to the rescue of hi s i nnocence, of whi ch thou wast the sol e wi tness. As he
was bei ng l ed off to pri son or puni shment, they were met by the master bui l der who
had charge of the publ i c bui l di ngs. The captors were especi al l y gl ad to meet hi m
because he had more than once suspected them of steal i ng the goods that had been
l ost out of the market pl ace. Now, at l ast, they thought they coul d convi nce hi m who
i t was that had commi tted the thefts. But the custodi an had often met Al ypi us at
the house of a certai n senator, whose recepti ons he used to attend. He recogni zed
hi m at once and, taki ng hi s hand, l ed hi m apart from the throng, i nqui red the cause
of al l the troubl e, and l earned what had occurred. He then commanded al l the
rabbl e sti l l around--and very uproari ous and ful l of threateni ngs they were--to come
al ong wi th hi m, and they came to the house of the young man who had commi tted
the deed. There, before the door, was a sl ave boy so young that he was not
restrai ned from tel l i ng the whol e story by fear of harmi ng hi s master. And he had
fol l owed hi s master to the market pl ace. Al ypi us recogni zed hi m, and whi spered to
the archi tect, who showed the boy the hatchet and asked whose i t was. Ours, he
answered di rectl y. And, bei ng further questi oned, he di scl osed the whol e affai r.
Thus the gui l t was shi fted to that househol d and the rabbl e, who had begun to
tri umph over Al ypi us, were shamed. And so he went away home, thi s man who was
to be the future steward of thy Word and judge of so many causes i n thy Church--a
wi ser and more experi enced man.
CHAPTER X
16. I found hi m at Rome, and he was bound to me wi th the strongest possi bl e
ti es, and he went wi th me to Mi l an, i n order that he mi ght not be separated from
me, and al so that he mi ght obtai n some l aw practi ce, for whi ch he had qual i fi ed
wi th a vi ew to pl easi ng hi s parents more than hi msel f. He had al ready sat three
ti mes as assessor, showi ng an i ntegri ty that seemed strange to many others, though
he thought them strange who coul d prefer gol d to i ntegri ty. Hi s character had al so
been tested, not onl y by the bai t of covetousness, but by the spur of fear. At Rome he
was assessor to the secretary of the I tal i an Treasury. There was at that ti me a very
powerful senator to whose favors many were i ndebted, and of whom many stood i n
fear. I n hi s usual hi ghhanded way he demanded to have a favor granted hi m that
was forbi dden by the l aws. Thi s Al ypi us resi sted. A bri be was promi sed, but he
scorned i t wi th al l hi s heart. Threats were empl oyed, but he trampl ed them
underfoot--so that al l men marvel ed at so rare a spi ri t, whi ch nei ther coveted the
fri endshi p nor feared the enmi ty of a man at once so powerful and so wi del y known
for hi s great resources of hel pi ng hi s fri ends and doi ng harm to hi s enemi es. Even
the offi ci al whose counsel or Al ypi us was--al though he was unwi l l i ng that the favor
shoul d be granted--woul d not openl y refuse the request, but passed the
responsi bi l i ty on to Al ypi us, al l egi ng that he woul d not permi t hi m to gi ve hi s
assent. And the truth was that even i f the judge had agreed, Al ypi us woul d have
si mpl y l eft the court.
There was one matter, however, whi ch appeal ed to hi s l ove of l earni ng, i n
whi ch he was very nearl y l ed astray. He found out that he mi ght have books copi ed
for hi msel f at praetori an rates [i .e., at publ i c expense]. But hi s sense of justi ce
prevai l ed, and he changed hi s mi nd for the better, thi nki ng that the rul e that
forbade hi m was sti l l more profi tabl e than the pri vi l ege that hi s offi ce woul d have
al l owed hi m. These are l i ttl e thi ngs, but he that i s fai thful i n a l i ttl e matter i s
fai thful al so i n a great one.
164
Nor can that possi bl y be voi d whi ch was uttered by
the mouth of Thy truth: I f, therefore, you have not been fai thful i n the unri ghteous
mammon, who wi l l commi t to your trust the true ri ches? And i f you have not been
fai thful i n that whi ch i s another mans, who shal l gi ve you that whi ch i s your
own?
165
Such a man was Al ypi us, who cl ung to me at that ti me and who wavered
i n hi s purpose, just as I di d, as to what course of l i fe to fol l ow.
17. Nebri di us al so had come to Mi l an for no other reason than that he mi ght
l i ve wi th me i n a most ardent search after truth and wi sdom. He had l eft hi s nati ve
pl ace near Carthage--and Carthage i tsel f, where he usual l y l i ved--l eavi ng behi nd
hi s fi ne fami l y estate, hi s house, and hi s mother, who woul d not fol l ow hi m. Li ke
me, he si ghed; l i ke me, he wavered; an ardent seeker after the true l i fe and a most
acute anal yst of the most abstruse questi ons. So there were three beggi ng mouths,
si ghi ng out thei r wants one to the other, and wai ti ng upon thee, that thou mi ghtest
gi ve them thei r meat i n due season.
166
And i n al l the vexati ons wi th whi ch thy
mercy fol l owed our worl dl y pursui ts, we sought for the reason why we suffered so--
and al l was darkness! We turned away groani ng and excl ai mi ng, How l ong shal l
these thi ngs be? And thi s we often asked, yet for al l our aski ng we di d not
rel i nqui sh them; for as yet we had not di scovered anythi ng certai n whi ch, when we
gave those others up, we mi ght grasp i n thei r stead.
CHAPTER XI
18. And I especi al l y puzzl ed and wondered when I remembered how l ong a
ti me had passed si nce my ni neteenth year, i n whi ch I had fi rst fal l en i n l ove wi th
wi sdom and had determi ned as soon as I coul d fi nd her to abandon the empty hopes
and mad del usi ons of vai n desi res. Behol d, I was now getti ng cl ose to thi rty, sti l l
stuck fast i n the same mi re, sti l l greedy of enjoyi ng present goods whi ch fl y away
and di stract me; and I was sti l l sayi ng, Tomorrow I shal l di scover i t; behol d, i t wi l l
become pl ai n, and I shal l see i t; behol d, Faustus wi l l come and expl ai n everythi ng.
Or I woul d say
167
:O you mi ghty Academi cs, i s there no certai nty that man can
grasp for the gui dance of hi s l i fe? No, l et us search the more di l i gentl y, and l et us
not despai r. See, the thi ngs i n the Churchs books that appeared so absurd to us
before do not appear so now, and may be otherwi se and honestl y i nterpreted. I wi l l
set my feet upon that step where, as a chi l d, my parents pl aced me, unti l the cl ear
truth i s di scovered. But where and when shal l i t be sought? Ambrose has no l ei sure-
164
Luke 16:10.
165
Luke 16:11, 12.
166
Cf. Ps. 145:15.
167
Here begi ns a l ong sol i l oquy whi ch sums up hi s turmoi l over the past decade and hi s present
pl i ght of confusi on and i ndeci si on.
-we have no l ei sure to read. Where are we to fi nd the books? How or where coul d I
get hol d of them? From whom coul d I borrow them? Let me set a schedul e for my
days and set apart certai n hours for the heal th of the soul . A great hope has ri sen
up i n us, because the Cathol i c fai th does not teach what we thought i t di d, and
vai nl y accused i t of. I ts teachers hol d i t as an abomi nati on to bel i eve that God i s
l i mi ted by the form of a human body. And do I doubt that I shoul d knock i n order
for the rest al so to be opened unto me? My pupi l s take up the morni ng hours; what
am I doi ng wi th the rest of the day? Why not do thi s? But, then, when am I to vi si t
my i nfl uenti al fri ends, whose favors I need? When am I to prepare the orati ons that
I sel l to the cl ass? When woul d I get some recreati on and rel ax my mi nd from the
strai n of work?
19. Peri sh everythi ng and l et us di smi ss these i dl e tri fl i ngs. Let me devote
mysel f sol el y to the search for truth. Thi s l i fe i s unhappy, death uncertai n. I f i t
comes upon me suddenl y, i n what state shal l I go hence and where shal l I l earn
what here I have negl ected? Shoul d I not i ndeed suffer the puni shment of my
negl i gence here? But suppose death cuts off and fi ni shes al l care and feel i ng. Thi s
too i s a questi on that cal l s for i nqui ry. God forbi d that i t shoul d be so. I t i s not
wi thout reason, i t i s not i n vai n, that the statel y authori ty of the Chri sti an fai th has
spread over the enti re worl d, and God woul d never have done such great thi ngs for
us i f the l i fe of the soul peri shed wi th the death of the body. Why, therefore, do I
del ay i n abandoni ng my hopes of thi s worl d and gi vi ng mysel f whol l y to seek after
God and the bl essed l i fe?
But wai t a moment. Thi s l i fe al so i s pl easant, and i t has a sweetness of i ts
own, not at al l negl i gi bl e. We must not abandon i t l i ghtl y, for i t woul d be shameful
to l apse back i nto i t agai n. See now, i t i s i mportant to gai n some post of honor. And
what more shoul d I desi re? I have crowds of i nfl uenti al fri ends, i f nothi ng el se; and,
i f I push my cl ai ms, a governorshi p may be offered me, and a wi fe wi th some money,
so that she woul d not be an added expense. Thi s woul d be the hei ght of my desi re.
Many men, who are great and worthy of i mi tati on, have combi ned the pursui t of
wi sdom wi th a marri age l i fe.
20. Whi l e I tal ked about these thi ngs, and the wi nds of opi ni ons veered about
and tossed my heart hi ther and thi ther, ti me was sl i ppi ng away. I del ayed my
conversi on to the Lord; I postponed from day to day the l i fe i n thee, but I coul d not
postpone the dai l y death i n mysel f. I was enamored of a happy l i fe, but I sti l l feared
to seek i t i n i ts own abode, and so I fl ed from i t whi l e I sought i t. I thought I shoul d
be mi serabl e i f I were depri ved of the embraces of a woman, and I never gave a
thought to the medi ci ne that thy mercy has provi ded for the heal i ng of that
i nfi rmi ty, for I had never tri ed i t. As for conti nence, I i magi ned that i t depended on
ones own strength, though I found no such strength i n mysel f, for i n my fol l y I
knew not what i s wri tten, None can be conti nent unl ess thou dost grant i t.
168
Certai nl y thou woul dst have gi ven i t, i f I had beseeched thy ears wi th heartfel t
groani ng, and i f I had cast my care upon thee wi th fi rm fai th.
CHAPTER XI I
21. Actual l y, i t was Al ypi us who prevented me from marryi ng, urgi ng that i f I
di d so i t woul d not be possi bl e for us to l i ve together and to have as much
undi stracted l ei sure i n the l ove of wi sdom as we had l ong desi red. For he hi msel f
was so chaste that i t was wonderful , al l the more because i n hi s earl y youth he had
entered upon the path of promi scui ty, but had not conti nued i n i t. I nstead, feel i ng
168
Cf. Wi s. 8:21 (LXX).
sorrow and di sgust at i t, he had l i ved from that ti me down to the present most
conti nentl y. I quoted agai nst hi m the exampl es of men who had been marri ed and
sti l l l overs of wi sdom, who had pl eased God and had been l oyal and affecti onate to
thei r fri ends. I fel l far short of them i n greatness of soul , and, enthral l ed wi th the
di sease of my carnal i ty and i ts deadl y sweetness, I dragged my chai n al ong, feari ng
to be l oosed of i t. Thus I rejected the words of hi m who counsel ed me wi sel y, as i f
the hand that woul d have l oosed the chai n onl y hurt my wound. Moreover, the
serpent spoke to Al ypi us hi msel f by me, weavi ng and l yi ng i n hi s path, by my
tongue to catch hi m wi th pl easant snares i n whi ch hi s honorabl e and free feet mi ght
be entangl ed.
22. For he wondered that I , for whom he had such a great esteem, shoul d be
stuck so fast i n the gl uepot of pl easure as to mai ntai n, whenever we di scussed the
subject, that I coul d not possi bl y l i ve a cel i bate l i fe. And when I urged i n my defense
agai nst hi s accusi ng questi ons that the hasty and stol en del i ght, whi ch he had
tasted and now hardl y remembered, and therefore too easi l y di sparaged, was not to
be compared wi th a settl ed acquai ntance wi th i t; and that, i f to thi s stabl e
acquai ntance were added the honorabl e name of marri age, he woul d not then be
astoni shed at my i nabi l i ty to gi ve i t up--when I spoke thus, then he al so began to
wi sh to be marri ed, not because he was overcome by the l ust for such pl easures, but
out of curi osi ty. For, he sai d, he l onged to know what that coul d be wi thout whi ch
my l i fe, whi ch he thought was so happy, seemed to me to be no l i fe at al l , but a
puni shment. For he who wore no chai n was amazed at my sl avery, and hi s
amazement awoke the desi re for experi ence, and from that he woul d have gone on
to the experi ment i tsel f, and then perhaps he woul d have fal l en i nto the very
sl avery that amazed hi m i n me, si nce he was ready to enter i nto a covenant wi th
death,
169
for he that l oves danger shal l fal l i nto i t.
170
Now, the questi on of conjugal honor i n the orderi ng of a good marri ed l i fe and
the bri ngi ng up of chi l dren i nterested us but sl i ghtl y. What affl i cted me most and
what had made me al ready a sl ave to i t was the habi t of sati sfyi ng an i nsati abl e
l ust; but Al ypi us was about to be ensl aved by a merel y curi ous wonder. Thi s i s the
state we were i n unti l thou, O Most Hi gh, who never forsakest our l owl i ness, di dst
take pi ty on our mi sery and di dst come to our rescue i n wonderful and secret ways.
CHAPTER XI I I
23. Acti ve efforts were made to get me a wi fe. I wooed; I was engaged; and my
mother took the greatest pai ns i n the matter. For her hope was that, when I was
once marri ed, I mi ght be washed cl ean i n heal th-gi vi ng bapti sm for whi ch I was
bei ng dai l y prepared, as she joyful l y saw, taki ng note that her desi res and promi ses
were bei ng ful fi l l ed i n my fai th. Yet, when, at my request and her own i mpul se, she
cal l ed upon thee dai l y wi th strong, heartfel t cri es, that thou woul dst, by a vi si on,
di scl ose unto her a l eadi ng about my future marri age, thou woul dst not. She di d,
i ndeed, see certai n vai n and fantasti c thi ngs, such as are conjured up by the strong
preoccupati on of the human spi ri t, and these she supposed had some reference to
me. And she tol d me about them, but not wi th the confi dence she usual l y had when
thou hadst shown her anythi ng. For she al ways sai d that she coul d di sti ngui sh, by a
certai n feel i ng i mpossi bl e to descri be, between thy revel ati ons and the dreams of
her own soul . Yet the matter was pressed forward, and proposal s were made for a
169
I sa. 28:15.
170
Eccl us. 3:26.
gi rl who was as yet some two years too young to marry.
171
And because she pl eased
me, I agreed to wai t for her.
CHAPTER XI V
24. Many i n my band of fri ends, consul ti ng about and abhorri ng the turbul ent
vexati ons of human l i fe, had often consi dered and were now al most determi ned to
undertake a peaceful l i fe, away from the turmoi l of men. Thi s we thought coul d be
obtai ned by bri ngi ng together what we several l y owned and thus maki ng of i t a
common househol d, so that i n the si nceri ty of our fri endshi p nothi ng shoul d bel ong
more to one than to the other; but al l were to have one purse and the whol e was to
bel ong to each and to al l . We thought that thi s group mi ght consi st of ten persons,
some of whom were very ri ch--especi al l y Romani anus, my fel l ow townsman, an
i nti mate fri end from chi l dhood days. He had been brought up to the court on grave
busi ness matters and he was the most earnest of us al l about the project and hi s
voi ce was of great wei ght i n commendi ng i t because hi s estate was far more ampl e
than that of the others. We had resol ved, al so, that each year two of us shoul d be
managers and provi de al l that was needful , whi l e the rest were l eft undi sturbed.
But when we began to refl ect whether thi s woul d be permi tted by our wi ves, whi ch
some of us had al ready and others hoped to have, the whol e pl an, so excel l entl y
framed, col l apsed i n our hands and was utterl y wrecked and cast asi de. From thi s
we fel l agai n i nto si ghs and groans, and our steps fol l owed the broad and beaten
ways of the worl d; for many thoughts were i n our hearts, but Thy counsel standeth
fast forever.
172
I n thy counsel thou di dst mock ours, and di dst prepare thy own
pl an, for i t was thy purpose to gi ve us meat i n due season, to open thy hand, and to
fi l l our soul s wi th bl essi ng.
173
CHAPTER XV
25. Meanwhi l e my si ns were bei ng mul ti pl i ed. My mi stress was torn from my
si de as an i mpedi ment to my marri age, and my heart whi ch cl ung to her was torn
and wounded ti l l i t bl ed. And she went back to Afri ca, vowi ng to thee never to know
any other man and l eavi ng wi th me my natural son by her. But I , unhappy as I was,
and weaker than a woman, coul d not bear the del ay of the two years that shoul d
el apse before I coul d obtai n the bri de I sought. And so, si nce I was not a l over of
wedl ock so much as a sl ave of l ust, I procured another mi stress--not a wi fe, of
course. Thus i n bondage to a l asti ng habi t, the di sease of my soul mi ght be nursed
up and kept i n i ts vi gor or even i ncreased unti l i t reached the real m of matri mony.
Nor i ndeed was the wound heal ed that had been caused by cutti ng away my former
mi stress; onl y i t ceased to burn and throb, and began to fester, and was more
dangerous because i t was l ess pai nful .
CHAPTER XVI
26. Thi ne be the prai se; unto thee be the gl ory, O Fountai n of merci es. I
became more wretched and thou di dst come nearer. Thy ri ght hand was ever ready
to pl uck me out of the mi re and to cl eanse me, but I di d not know i t. Nor di d
anythi ng cal l me back from a sti l l deeper pl unge i nto carnal pl easure except the fear
171
The normal mi ni mum l egal age for marri age was twel ve! Cf. Justi ni an, I nstitutiones, I , 10:22.
172
Cf. Ps. 33:11.
173
Cf. Ps. 145:15, 16.
of death and of thy future judgment, whi ch, ami d al l the waveri ngs of my opi ni ons,
never faded from my breast. And I di scussed wi th my fri ends, Al ypi us and
Nebri di us, the nature of good and evi l , mai ntai ni ng that, i n my judgment, Epi curus
woul d have carri ed off the pal m i f I had not bel i eved what Epi curus woul d not
bel i eve: that after death there remai ns a l i fe for the soul , and pl aces of recompense.
And I demanded of them: Suppose we are i mmortal and l i ve i n the enjoyment of
perpetual bodi l y pl easure, and that wi thout any fear of l osi ng i t--why, then, shoul d
we not be happy, or why shoul d we search for anythi ng el se? I di d not know that
thi s was i n fact the root of my mi sery: that I was so fal l en and bl i nded that I coul d
not di scern the l i ght of vi rtue and of beauty whi ch must be embraced for i ts own
sake, whi ch the eye of fl esh cannot see, and onl y the i nner vi si on can see. Nor di d I ,
al as, consi der the reason why I found del i ght i n di scussi ng these very perpl exi ti es,
shameful as they were, wi th my fri ends. For I coul d not be happy wi thout fri ends,
even accordi ng to the noti ons of happi ness I had then, and no matter how ri ch the
store of my carnal pl easures mi ght be. Yet of a truth I l oved my fri ends for thei r
own sakes, and fel t that they i n turn l oved me for my own sake.
O crooked ways! Woe to the audaci ous soul whi ch hoped that by forsaki ng
thee i t woul d fi nd some better thi ng! I t tossed and turned, upon back and si de and
bel l y--but the bed i s hard, and thou al one gi vest i t rest.
174
And l o, thou art near, and
thou del i verest us from our wretched wanderi ngs and establ i shest us i n thy way,
and thou comfortest us and sayest, Run, I wi l l carry you; yea, I wi l l l ead you home
and then I wi l l set you free.
175
174
A vari ati on on "restl ess i s our heart unti l i t comes to fi nd rest i n Thee," Bk. I , Ch. I , 1.
175
I sa. 46:4.
BOOK SEVEN
The conversion to Neoplatonism. Augustine traces his growing disenchantment with
the Manichean conceptions of God and evil and the dawning understanding of Gods
incorruptibility. But his thought is still bound by his materialistic notions of reality.
He rejects astrology and turns to the stud of Neoplatonism. There follows an analysis
of the differences between Platonism and Christianity and a remarkable account of
his appropriation of Plotinian wisdom and his experience of a Plotinian ecstasy.
From this, he comes finally to the diligent study of the Bible, especially the writings
of the apostle Paul. His pilgrimage is drawing toward its goal, as he begins to know
J esus Christ and to be drawn to him in hesitant faith.
CHAPTER I
1. Dead now was that evi l and shameful youth of mi ne, and I was passi ng
i nto ful l manhood.
176
As I i ncreased i n years, the worse was my vani ty. For I coul d
not concei ve of any substance but the sort I coul d see wi th my own eyes. I no l onger
thought of thee, O God, by the anal ogy of a human body. Ever si nce I i ncl i ned my
ear to phi l osophy I had avoi ded thi s error--and the truth on thi s poi nt I rejoi ced to
fi nd i n the fai th of our spi ri tual mother, thy Cathol i c Church. Yet I coul d not see
how el se to concei ve thee. And I , a man--and such a man!-sought to concei ve thee,
the soverei gn and onl y true God. I n my i nmost heart, I bel i eved that thou art
i ncorrupti bl e and i nvi ol abl e and unchangeabl e, because--though I knew not how or
why--I coul d sti l l see pl ai nl y and wi thout doubt that the corrupti bl e i s i nferi or to the
i ncorrupti bl e, the i nvi ol abl e obvi ousl y superi or to i ts opposi te, and the
unchangeabl e better than the changeabl e.
My heart cri ed out vi ol entl y agai nst al l fantasms,
177
and wi th thi s one cl ear
certai nty I endeavored to brush away the swarm of uncl ean fl i es that swarmed
around the eyes of my mi nd. But behol d they were scarcel y scattered before they
gathered agai n, buzzed agai nst my face, and becl ouded my vi si on. I no l onger
thought of God i n the anal ogy of a human body, yet I was constrai ned to concei ve
thee to be some ki nd of body i n space, ei ther i nfused i nto the worl d, or i nfi ni tel y
di ffused beyond the worl d--and thi s was the i ncorrupti bl e, i nvi ol abl e, unchangeabl e
substance, whi ch I thought was better than the corrupti bl e, the vi ol abl e, and the
changeabl e.
178
For whatever I concei ved to be depri ved of the di mensi ons of space
appeared to me to be nothi ng, absol utel y nothi ng; not even a voi d, for i f a body i s
taken out of space, or i f space i s empti ed of al l i ts contents (of earth, water, ai r, or
heaven), yet i t remai ns an empty space--a spaci ous nothi ng, as i t were.
2. Bei ng thus gross-hearted and not cl ear even to mysel f, I then hel d that
whatever had nei ther l ength nor breadth nor densi ty nor sol i di ty, and di d not or
coul d not recei ve such di mensi ons, was absol utel y nothi ng. For at that ti me my
mi nd dwel t onl y wi th i deas, whi ch resembl ed the forms wi th whi ch my eyes are sti l l
fami l i ar, nor coul d I see that the act of thought, by whi ch I formed those i deas, was
i tsel f i mmateri al , and yet i t coul d not have formed them i f i t were not i tsel f a
measurabl e enti ty.
176
Thi rty years ol d; al though the term "youth" (juventus) normal l y i ncl uded the years twenty to
forty.
177
Phantasmata, mental constructs, whi ch may be i nternal l y coherent but correspond to no real i ty
outsi de the mi nd.
178
Echoes here of Pl ato's Timaeus and Pl oti nus' Enneads, al though wi th no effort to recal l the
sources or el aborate the ontol ogi cal theory.
So al so I thought about thee, O Li fe of my l i fe, as stretched out through
i nfi ni te space, i nterpenetrati ng the whol e mass of the worl d, reachi ng out beyond i n
al l di recti ons, to i mmensi ty wi thout end; so that the earth shoul d have thee, the
heaven have thee, al l thi ngs have thee, and al l of them be l i mi ted i n thee, whi l e
thou art pl aced nowhere at al l . As the body of the ai r above the earth does not bar
the passage of the l i ght of the sun, so that the l i ght penetrates i t, not by bursti ng
nor di vi di ng, but fi l l i ng i t enti rel y, so I i magi ned that the body of heaven and ai r
and sea, and even of the earth, was al l open to thee and, i n al l i ts greatest parts as
wel l as the smal l est, was ready to recei ve thy presence by a secret i nspi rati on
whi ch, from wi thi n or wi thout al l , orders al l thi ngs thou hast created. Thi s was my
conjecture, because I was unabl e to thi nk of anythi ng el se; yet i t was untrue. For i n
thi s way a greater part of the earth woul d contai n a greater part of thee; a smal l er
part, a smal l er fracti on of thee. Al l thi ngs woul d be ful l of thee i n such a sense that
there woul d be more of thee i n an el ephant than i n a sparrow, because one i s l arger
than the other and fi l l s a l arger space. And thi s woul d make the porti ons of thysel f
present i n the several porti ons of the worl d i n fragments, great to the great, smal l to
the smal l . But thou art not such a one. But as yet thou hadst not enl i ghtened my
darkness.
CHAPTER I I
3. But i t was not suffi ci ent for me, O Lord, to be abl e to oppose those decei ved
decei vers and those dumb orators--dumb because thy Word di d not sound forth from
them--to oppose them wi th the answer whi ch, i n the ol d Carthagi ni an days,
Nebri di us used to propound, shaki ng al l of us who heard i t: What coul d thi s
i magi nary peopl e of darkness, whi ch the Mani cheans usual l y set up as an army
opposed to thee, have done to thee i f thou hadst decl i ned the combat? I f they
repl i ed that i t coul d have hurt thee, they woul d then have made thee vi ol abl e and
corrupti bl e. I f, on the other hand, the dark coul d have done thee no harm, then
there was no cause for any battl e at al l ; there was l ess cause for a battl e i n whi ch a
part of thee, one of thy members, a chi l d of thy own substance, shoul d be mi xed up
wi th opposi ng powers, not of thy creati on; and shoul d be corrupted and deteri orated
and changed by them from happi ness i nto mi sery, so that i t coul d not be del i vered
and cl eansed wi thout thy hel p. Thi s offspri ng of thy substance was supposed to be
the human soul to whi ch thy Word--free, pure, and enti re--coul d bri ng hel p when i t
was bei ng ensl aved, contami nated, and corrupted. But on thei r hypothesi s that
Word was i tsel f corrupti bl e because i t i s one and the same substance as the soul .
And therefore i f they admi tted that thy nature--whatsoever thou art--i s
i ncorrupti bl e, then al l these asserti ons of thei rs are fal se and shoul d be rejected
wi th horror. But i f thy substance i s corrupti bl e, then thi s i s sel f-evi dentl y fal se and
shoul d be abhorred at fi rst utterance. Thi s l i ne of argument, then, was enough
agai nst those decei vers who ought to be cast forth from a surfei ted stomach--for out
of thi s di l emma they coul d fi nd no way of escape wi thout dreadful sacri l ege of mi nd
and tongue, when they thi nk and speak such thi ngs about thee.
CHAPTER I I I
4. But as yet, al though I sai d and was fi rml y persuaded that thou our Lord,
the true God, who madest not onl y our soul s but our bodi es as wel l --and not onl y our
soul s and bodi es but al l creatures and al l thi ngs--wast free from stai n and al terati on
and i n no way mutabl e, yet I coul d not readi l y and cl earl y understand what was the
cause of evi l . Whatever i t was, I real i zed that the questi on must be so anal yzed as
not to constrai n me by any answer to bel i eve that the i mmutabl e God was mutabl e,
l est I shoul d mysel f become the thi ng that I was seeki ng out. And so I pursued the
search wi th a qui et mi nd, now i n a confi dent feel i ng that what had been sai d by the
Mani cheans--and I shrank from them wi th my whol e heart--coul d not be true. I now
real i zed that when they asked what was the ori gi n of evi l thei r answer was di ctated
by a wi cked pri de, whi ch woul d rather affi rm that thy nature i s capabl e of sufferi ng
evi l than that thei r own nature i s capabl e of doi ng i t.
5. And I di rected my attenti on to understand what I now was tol d, that free
wi l l i s the cause of our doi ng evi l and that thy just judgment i s the cause of our
havi ng to suffer from i ts consequences. But I coul d not see thi s cl earl y. So then,
tryi ng to draw the eye of my mi nd up out of that pi t, I was pl unged back i nto i t
agai n, and tryi ng often was just as often pl unged back down. But one thi ng l i fted
me up toward thy l i ght: i t was that I had come to know that I had a wi l l as certai nl y
as I knew that I had l i fe. When, therefore, I wi l l ed or was unwi l l i ng to do
somethi ng, I was utterl y certai n that i t was none but mysel f who wi l l ed or was
unwi l l i ng--and i mmedi atel y I real i zed that there was the cause of my si n. I coul d
see that what I di d agai nst my wi l l I suffered rather than di d; and I di d not regard
such acti ons as faul ts, but rather as puni shments i n whi ch I mi ght qui ckl y confess
that I was not unjustl y puni shed, si nce I bel i eved thee to be most just. Who was i t
that put thi s i n me, and i mpl anted i n me the root of bi tterness, i n spi te of the fact
that I was al together the handi work of my most sweet God? I f the devi l i s to bl ame,
who made the devi l hi msel f? And i f he was a good angel who by hi s own wi cked wi l l
became the devi l , how di d there happen to be i n hi m that wi cked wi l l by whi ch he
became a devi l , si nce a good Creator made hi m whol l y a good angel ? By these
refl ecti ons was I agai n cast down and stul ti fi ed. Yet I was not pl unged i nto that hel l
of error--where no man confesses to thee--where I thought that thou di dst suffer
evi l , rather than that men do i t.
CHAPTER I V
6. For i n my struggl e to sol ve the rest of my di ffi cul ti es, I now assumed
henceforth as settl ed truth that the i ncorrupti bl e must be superi or to the
corrupti bl e, and I di d acknowl edge that thou, whatever thou art, art i ncorrupti bl e.
For there never yet was, nor wi l l be, a soul abl e to concei ve of anythi ng better than
thee, who art the hi ghest and best good.
179
And si nce most trul y and certai nl y the
i ncorrupti bl e i s to be pl aced above the corrupti bl e--as I now admi t i t--i t fol l owed
that I coul d ri se i n my thoughts to somethi ng better than my God, i f thou wert not
i ncorrupti bl e. When, therefore, I saw that the i ncorrupti bl e was to be preferred to
the corrupti bl e, I saw then where I ought to seek thee, and where I shoul d l ook for
the source of evi l : that i s, the corrupti on by whi ch thy substance can i n no way be
profaned. For i t i s obvi ous that corrupti on i n no way i njures our God, by no
i ncl i nati on, by no necessi ty, by no unforeseen chance--because he i s our God, and
what he wi l l s i s good, and he hi msel f i s that good. But to be corrupted i s not good.
Nor art thou compel l ed to do anythi ng agai nst thy wi l l , si nce thy wi l l i s not greater
than thy power. But i t woul d have to be greater i f thou thysel f wert greater than
thysel f--for the wi l l and power of God are God hi msel f. And what can take thee by
surpri se, si nce thou knowest al l , and there i s no sort of nature but thou knowest i t?
And what more shoul d we say about why that substance whi ch God i s cannot be
corrupted; because i f thi s were so i t coul d not be God?
179
Cf. the famous "defi ni ti on" of God i n Ansel m's ontol ogi cal argument: "that bei ng than whom no
greater can be concei ved." Cf. Proslogium, I I -V.
CHAPTER V
7. And I kept seeki ng for an answer to the questi on, Whence i s evi l ? And I
sought i t i n an evi l way, and I di d not see the evi l i n my very search. I marshal ed
before the si ght of my spi ri t al l creati on: al l that we see of earth and sea and ai r and
stars and trees and ani mal s; and al l that we do not see, the fi rmament of the sky
above and al l the angel s and al l spi ri tual thi ngs, for my i magi nati on arranged these
al so, as i f they were bodi es, i n thi s pl ace or that. And I pi ctured to mysel f thy
creati on as one vast mass, composed of vari ous ki nds of bodi es--some of whi ch were
actual l y bodi es, some of those whi ch I i magi ned spi ri ts were l i ke. I pi ctured thi s
mass as vast--of course not i n i ts ful l di mensi ons, for these I coul d not know--but as
l arge as I coul d possi bl y thi nk, sti l l onl y fi ni te on every si de. But thou, O Lord, I
i magi ned as envi roni ng the mass on every si de and penetrati ng i t, sti l l i nfi ni te i n
every di recti on--as i f there were a sea everywhere, and everywhere through
measurel ess space nothi ng but an i nfi ni te sea; and i t contai ned wi thi n i tsel f some
sort of sponge, huge but sti l l fi ni te, so that the sponge woul d i n al l i ts parts be fi l l ed
from the i mmeasurabl e sea.
180
Thus I concei ved thy creati on i tsel f to be fi ni te, and fi l l ed by thee, the i nfi ni te.
And I sai d, Behol d God, and behol d what God hath created! God i s good, yea, most
mi ghti l y and i ncomparabl y better than al l hi s works. But yet he who i s good has
created them good; behol d how he enci rcl es and fi l l s them. Where, then, i s evi l , and
whence does i t come and how has i t crept i n? What i s i ts root and what i ts seed?
Has i t no bei ng at al l ? Why, then, do we fear and shun what has no bei ng? Or i f we
fear i t needl essl y, then surel y that fear i s evi l by whi ch the heart i s unnecessari l y
stabbed and tortured--and i ndeed a greater evi l si nce we have nothi ng real to fear,
and yet do fear. Therefore, ei ther that i s evi l whi ch we fear, or the act of feari ng i s
i n i tsel f evi l . But, then, whence does i t come, si nce God who i s good has made al l
these thi ngs good? I ndeed, he i s the greatest and chi efest Good, and hath created
these l esser goods; but both Creator and created are al l good. Whence, then, i s evi l ?
Or, agai n, was there some evi l matter out of whi ch he made and formed and ordered
i t, but l eft somethi ng i n hi s creati on that he di d not convert i nto good? But why
shoul d thi s be? Was he powerl ess to change the whol e l ump so that no evi l woul d
remai n i n i t, i f he i s the Omni potent? Fi nal l y, why woul d he make anythi ng at al l
out of such stuff? Why di d he not, rather, anni hi l ate i t by hi s same al mi ghty power?
Coul d evi l exi st contrary to hi s wi l l ? And i f i t were from eterni ty, why di d he permi t
i t to be nonexi stent for unmeasured i nterval s of ti me i n the past, and why, then,
was he pl eased to make somethi ng out of i t after so l ong a ti me? Or, i f he wi shed
now al l of a sudden to create somethi ng, woul d not an al mi ghty bei ng have chosen
to anni hi l ate thi s evi l matter and l i ve by hi msel f--the perfect, true, soverei gn, and
i nfi ni te Good? Or, i f i t were not good that he who was good shoul d not al so be the
framer and creator of what was good, then why was that evi l matter not removed
and brought to nothi ng, so that he mi ght form good matter, out of whi ch he mi ght
then create al l thi ngs? For he woul d not be omni potent i f he were not abl e to create
somethi ng good wi thout bei ng assi sted by that matter whi ch had not been created
by hi msel f.
Such perpl exi ti es I revol ved i n my wretched breast, overwhel med wi th
gnawi ng cares l est I di e before I di scovered the truth. And sti l l the fai th of thy
Chri st, our Lord and Savi our, as i t was taught me by the Cathol i c Church, stuck
fast i n my heart. As yet i t was unformed on many poi nts and di verged from the rul e
180
Thi s si mi l e i s Augusti ne's apparentl y ori gi nal i mprovement on Pl oti nus' si mi l ar fi gure of the net
i n the sea; Enneads, I V, 3:9.
of ri ght doctri ne, but my mi nd di d not utterl y l ose i t, and every day drank i n more
and more of i t.
CHAPTER VI
8. By now I had al so repudi ated the l yi ng di vi nati ons and i mpi ous absurdi ti es
of the astrol ogers. Let thy merci es, out of the depth of my soul , confess thi s to thee
al so, O my God. For thou, thou onl y (for who el se i s i t who cal l s us back from the
death of al l errors except the Li fe whi ch does not know how to di e and the Wi sdom
whi ch gi ves l i ght to mi nds that need i t, al though i t i tsel f has no need of l i ght--by
whi ch the whol e uni verse i s governed, even to the fl utteri ng l eaves of the trees?)--
thou al one provi dedst al so for my obsti nacy wi th whi ch I struggl ed agai nst
Vi ndi ci anus, a sagaci ous ol d man, and Nebri di us, that remarkabl y tal ented young
man. The former decl ared vehementl y and the l atter frequentl y--though wi th some
reservati on--that no art exi sted by whi ch we foresee future thi ngs. But mens
surmi ses have oftenti mes the hel p of chance, and out of many thi ngs whi ch they
foretol d some came to pass unawares to the predi ctors, who l i ghted on the truth by
maki ng so many guesses.
And thou al so provi dedst a fri end for me, who was not a negl i gent consul ter
of the astrol ogers even though he was not thoroughl y ski l l ed i n the art ei ther--as I
sai d, one who consul ted them out of curi osi ty. He knew a good, deal about i t, whi ch,
he sai d, he had heard from hi s father, and he never real i zed how far hi s i deas woul d
hel p to overthrow my esti mati on of that art. Hi s name was Fi rmi nus and he had
recei ved a l i beral educati on and was a cul ti vated rhetori ci an. I t so happened that he
consul ted me, as one very dear to hi m, as to what I thought about some affai rs of hi s
i n whi ch hi s worl dl y hopes had ri sen, vi ewed i n the l i ght of hi s so-cal l ed horoscope.
Al though I had now begun to l earn i n thi s matter toward Nebri di us opi ni on, I di d
not qui te decl i ne to specul ate about the matter or to tel l hi m what thoughts sti l l
came i nto my i rresol ute mi nd, al though I di d add that I was al most persuaded now
that these were but empty and ri di cul ous fol l i es. He then tol d me that hi s father
had been very much i nterested i n such books, and that he had a fri end who was as
much i nterested i n them as he was hi msel f. They, i n combi ned study and
consul tati on, fanned the fl ame of thei r affecti on for thi s fol l y, goi ng so far as to
observe the moment when the dumb ani mal s whi ch bel onged to thei r househol d
gave bi rth to young, and then observed the posi ti on of the heavens wi th regard to
them, so as to gather fresh evi dence for thi s so-cal l ed art. Moreover, he reported
that hi s father had tol d hi m that, at the same ti me hi s mother was about to gi ve
bi rth to hi m [Fi rmi nus], a femal e sl ave of a fri end of hi s fathers was al so pregnant.
Thi s coul d not be hi dden from her master, who kept records wi th the most di l i gent
exactness of the bi rth dates even of hi s dogs. And so i t happened to pass that--under
the most careful observati ons, one for hi s wi fe and the other for hi s servant, wi th
exact cal cul ati ons of the days, hours, and mi nutes--both women were del i vered at
the same moment, so that both were compel l ed to cast the sel fsame horoscope, down
to the mi nute: the one for hi s son, the other for hi s young sl ave. For as soon as the
women began to be i n l abor, they each sent word to the other as to what was
happeni ng i n thei r respecti ve houses and had messengers ready to di spatch to one
another as soon as they had i nformati on of the actual bi rth--and each, of course,
knew i nstantl y the exact ti me. I t turned out, Fi rmi nus sai d, that the messengers
from the respecti ve houses met one another at a poi nt equi di stant from ei ther
house, so that nei ther of them coul d di scern any di fference ei ther i n the posi ti on of
the stars or any other of the most mi nute poi nts. And yet Fi rmi nus, born i n a hi gh
estate i n hi s parents house, ran hi s course through the prosperous paths of thi s
worl d, was i ncreased i n weal th, and el evated to honors. At the same ti me, the sl ave,
the yoke of hi s condi ti on bei ng sti l l unrel axed, conti nued to serve hi s masters as
Fi rmi nus, who knew hi m, was abl e to report.
9. Upon heari ng and bel i evi ng these thi ngs rel ated by so rel i abl e a person al l
my resi stance mel ted away. Fi rst, I endeavored to recl ai m Fi rmi nus hi msel f from
hi s supersti ti on by tel l i ng hi m that after i nspecti ng hi s horoscope, I ought, i f I coul d
foretel l trul y, to have seen i n i t parents emi nent among thei r nei ghbors, a nobl e
fami l y i n i ts own ci ty, a good bi rth, a proper educati on, and l i beral l earni ng. But i f
that servant had consul ted me wi th the same horoscope, si nce he had the same one,
I ought agai n to tel l hi m l i kewi se trul y that I saw i n i t the l owl i ness of hi s ori gi n,
the abjectness of hi s condi ti on, and everythi ng el se di fferent and contrary to the
former predi cti on. I f, then, by casti ng up the same horoscopes I shoul d, i n order to
speak the truth, make contrary anal yses, or el se speak fal sel y i f I made i denti cal
readi ngs, then surel y i t fol l owed that whatever was trul y foretol d by the anal ysi s of
the horoscopes was not by art, but by chance. And whatever was sai d fal sel y was
not from i ncompetence i n the art, but from the error of chance.
10. An openi ng bei ng thus made i n my darkness, I began to consi der other
i mpl i cati ons i nvol ved here. Suppose that one of the fool s--who fol l owed such an
occupati on and whom I l onged to assai l , and to reduce to confusi on--shoul d urge
agai nst me that Fi rmi nus had gi ven me fal se i nformati on, or that hi s father had
i nformed hi m fal sel y. I then turned my thoughts to those that are born twi ns, who
general l y come out of the womb so near the one to the other that the short i nterval
between them--whatever i mportance they may ascri be to i t i n the nature of thi ngs--
cannot be noted by human observati on or expressed i n those tabl es whi ch the
astrol oger uses to exami ne when he undertakes to pronounce the truth. But such
pronouncements cannot be true. For l ooki ng i nto the same horoscopes, he must have
foretol d the same future for Esau and Jacob,
181
whereas the same future di d not
turn out for them. He must therefore speak fal sel y. I f he i s to speak trul y, then he
must read contrary predi cti ons i nto the same horoscopes. But thi s woul d mean that
i t was not by art, but by chance, that he woul d speak trul y.
For thou, O Lord, most ri ghteous rul er of the uni verse, dost work by a secret
i mpul se--whether those who i nqui re or those i nqui red of know i t or not--so that the
i nqui rer may hear what, accordi ng to the secret meri t of hi s soul , he ought to hear
from the deeps of thy ri ghteous judgment. Therefore l et no man say to thee, What
i s thi s? or, Why i s that? Let hi m not speak thus, for he i s onl y a man.
CHAPTER VI I
11. By now, O my Hel per, thou hadst freed me from those fetters. But sti l l I
i nqui red, Whence i s evi l ?--and found no answer. But thou di dst not al l ow me to be
carri ed away from the fai th by these fl uctuati ons of thought. I sti l l bel i eved both
that thou dost exi st and that thy substance i s i mmutabl e, and that thou dost care
for and wi l t judge al l men, and that i n Chri st, thy Son our Lord, and the Hol y
Scri ptures, whi ch the authori ty of thy Cathol i c Church pressed on me, thou hast
pl anned the way of mans sal vati on to that l i fe whi ch i s to come after thi s death.
Wi th these convi cti ons safe and i mmovabl y settl ed i n my mi nd, I eagerl y
i nqui red, Whence i s evi l ? What torments di d my travai l i ng heart then endure!
What si ghs, O my God! Yet even then thy ears were open and I knew i t not, and
when i n sti l l ness I sought earnestl y, those si l ent contri ti ons of my soul were l oud
cri es to thy mercy. No man knew, but thou knewest what I endured. How l i ttl e of i t
181
Gen. 25:21 to 33:20.
coul d I express i n words to the ears of my dearest fri ends! How coul d the whol e
tumul t of my soul , for whi ch nei ther ti me nor speech was suffi ci ent, come to them?
Yet the whol e of i t went i nto thy ears, al l of whi ch I bel l owed out i n the angui sh of
my heart. My desi re was before thee, and the l i ght of my eyes was not wi th me; for
i t was wi thi n and I was wi thout. Nor was that l i ght i n any pl ace; but I sti l l kept
thi nki ng onl y of thi ngs that are contai ned i n a pl ace, and coul d fi nd among them no
pl ace to rest i n. They di d not recei ve me i n such a way that I coul d say, I t i s
suffi ci ent; i t i s wel l . Nor di d they al l ow me to turn back to where i t mi ght be wel l
enough wi th me. For I was hi gher than they, though l ower than thou. Thou art my
true joy i f I depend upon thee, and thou hadst subjected to me what thou di dst
create l ower than I . And thi s was the true mean and mi ddl e way of sal vati on for me,
to conti nue i n thy i mage and by servi ng thee have domi ni on over the body. But
when I l i fted mysel f proudl y agai nst thee, and ran agai nst the Lord, even agai nst
hi s neck, wi th the thi ck bosses of my buckl er,
182
even the l ower thi ngs were pl aced
above me and pressed down on me, so that there was no respi te or breathi ng space.
They thrust on my si ght on every si de, i n crowds and masses, and when I tri ed to
thi nk, the i mages of bodi es obtruded themsel ves i nto my way back to thee, as i f they
woul d say to me, Where are you goi ng, unworthy and uncl ean one? And al l these
had sprung out of my wound, for thou hadst humbl ed the haughty as one that i s
wounded. By my swel l i ng pri de I was separated from thee, and my bl oated cheeks
bl i nded my eyes.
CHAPTER VI I I
12. But thou, O Lord, art forever the same, yet thou art not forever angry
wi th us, for thou hast compassi on on our dust and ashes.
183
I t was pl easi ng i n thy
si ght to reform my deformi ty, and by i nward sti ngs thou di dst di sturb me so that I
was i mpati ent unti l thou wert made cl ear to my i nward si ght. By the secret hand of
thy heal i ng my swel l i ng was l essened, the di sordered and darkened eyesi ght of my
mi nd was from day to day made whol e by the sti ngi ng sal ve of whol esome gri ef.
CHAPTER I X
13. And fi rst of al l , wi l l i ng to show me how thou dost resi st the proud, but
gi ve grace to the humbl e,
184
and how merci ful l y thou hast made known to men the
way of humi l i ty i n that thy Word was made fl esh and dwel t among men,
185
thou
di dst procure for me, through one i nfl ated wi th the most monstrous pri de, certai n
books of the Pl atoni sts, transl ated from Greek i nto Lati n.
186
And therei n I found,
not i ndeed i n the same words, but to the sel fsame effect, enforced by many and
vari ous reasons that i n the begi nni ng was the Word, and the Word was wi th God,
182
Cf. Job 15:26 (Ol d Lati n versi on).
183
Cf. Ps. 103:9-14.
184
James 4:6.
185
Cf. John 1:14.
186
I t i s not al together cl ear as to whi ch "books" and whi ch "Pl atoni sts" are here referred to. The
succeedi ng anal ysi s of "Pl atoni sm" does not resembl e any si ngl e known text cl osel y enough to al l ow
for i denti fi cati on. The most reasonabl e conjecture, as most authori ti es agree, i s that the "books" here
menti oned were the Enneads of Pl oti nus, whi ch Mari us Vi ctori nus (q.v. infra, Bk. VI I I , Ch. I I , 3-5)
had transl ated i nto Lati n several years before; cf. M.P. Garvey, St. Augustine: Christian or Neo-
Platonist (Mi l waukee, 1939). There i s al so a fai r probabi l i ty that Augusti ne had acqui red some
knowl edge of the Didaskalikos of Al bi nus; cf. R.E. Wi tt, Albinus and the History of Middle Platonism
(Cambri dge, 1937).
and the Word was God. The same was i n the begi nni ng wi th God. Al l thi ngs were
made by hi m; and wi thout hi m was not anythi ng made that was made. That whi ch
was made by hi m i s l i fe, and the l i fe was the l i ght of men. And the l i ght shi ned i n
darkness; and the darkness comprehended i t not. Furthermore, I read that the soul
of man, though i t bears wi tness to the l i ght, yet i tsel f i s not the l i ght; but the
Word of God, bei ng God, i s that true l i ght that l i ghts every man who comes i nto the
worl d. And further, that he was i n the worl d, and the worl d was made by hi m, and
the worl d knew hi m not.
187
But that he came unto hi s own, and hi s own recei ved
hi m not. And as many as recei ved hi m, to them gave he power to become the sons of
God, even to them that bel i eved on hi s name
188
--thi s I di d not fi nd there.
14. Si mi l arl y, I read there that God the Word was born not of fl esh nor of
bl ood, nor of the wi l l of man, nor the wi l l of the fl esh, but of God.
189
But, that the
Word was made fl esh, and dwel t among us
190
--I found thi s nowhere there. And I
di scovered i n those books, expressed i n many and vari ous ways, that the Son was
i n the form of God and thought i t not robbery to be equal i n God,
191
for he was
natural l y of the same substance. But, that he empti ed hi msel f and took upon
hi msel f the form of a servant, and was made i n the l i keness of men: and bei ng found
i n fashi on as a man, he humbl ed hi msel f, and became obedi ent unto death, even the
death of the cross. Wherefore God al so hath hi ghl y exal ted hi m from the dead, and
gi ven hi m a name above every name; that at the name of Jesus every knee shoul d
bow, of thi ngs i n heaven, and thi ngs i n earth, and thi ngs under the earth; and that
every tongue shoul d confess that Jesus Chri st i s Lord, to the gl ory of God the
Father
192
--thi s those books have not. I read further i n them that before al l ti mes
and beyond al l ti mes, thy onl y Son remai neth unchangeabl y coeternal wi th thee,
and that of hi s ful l ness al l soul s recei ve that they may be bl essed, and that by
parti ci pati on i n that wi sdom whi ch abi des i n them, they are renewed that they may
be wi se. But, that i n due ti me, Chri st di ed for the ungodl y and that thou sparedst
not thy onl y Son, but del i veredst hi m up for us al l
193
--thi s i s not there. For thou
hast hi d these thi ngs from the wi se and prudent, and hast reveal ed them unto
babes
194
; that they that l abor and are heavy l aden mi ght come unto hi m and he
mi ght refresh them because he i s meek and l owl y i n heart.
195
The meek wi l l he
gui de i n judgment; and the meek wi l l he teach hi s way; behol di ng our l owl i ness and
our troubl e and forgi vi ng al l our si ns.
196
But those who strut i n the hi gh boots of
what they deem to be superi or knowl edge wi l l not hear Hi m who says, Learn of me,
for I am meek and l owl y i n heart, and you shal l fi nd rest for your soul s.
197
Thus,
though they know God, yet they do not gl ori fy hi m as God, nor are they thankful .
Therefore, they become vai n i n thei r i magi nati ons; thei r fool i sh heart i s darkened,
and professi ng themsel ves to be wi se they become fool s.
198
187
Cf. thi s mi xed quotati on of John 1:1-10 wi th the Fi fth Ennead and note Augusti ne's i denti fi cati on
of Logos, i n the Fourth Gospel , wi th Nous i n Pl oti nus.
188
John 1:11, 12
189
John 1:13.
190
John 1:14.
191
Phi l . 2:6.
192
Phi l . 2:7-11.
193
Rom. 5:6; 8:32.
194
Luke 10:21.
195
Cf. Matt. 11:28, 29.
196
Cf. Ps. 25:9, 18.
197
Matt. 11:29.
198
Rom. 1:21, 22.
15. And, moreover, I al so read there how they changed the gl ory of thy
i ncorrupti bl e nature i nto i dol s and vari ous i mages--i nto an i mage made l i ke
corrupti bl e man and to bi rds and four-footed beasts, and creepi ng thi ngs
199
:
namel y, i nto that Egypti an food
200
for whi ch Esau l ost hi s bi rthri ght; so that thy
fi rst-born peopl e worshi ped the head of a four-footed beast i nstead of thee, turni ng
back i n thei r hearts toward Egypt and prostrati ng thy i mage (thei r own soul ) before
the i mage of an ox that eats grass. These thi ngs I found there, but I fed not on them.
For i t pl eased thee, O Lord, to take away the reproach of hi s mi nori ty from Jacob,
that the el der shoul d serve the younger and thou mi ghtest cal l the Genti l es, and I
had sought strenuousl y after that gol d whi ch thou di dst al l ow thy peopl e to take
from Egypt, si nce wherever i t was i t was thi ne.
201
And thou sai dst unto the
Atheni ans by the mouth of thy apostl e that i n thee we l i ve and move and have our
bei ng, as one of thei r own poets had sai d.
202
And trul y these books came from
there. But I di d not set my mi nd on the i dol s of Egypt whi ch they fashi oned of gol d,
changi ng the truth of God i nto a l i e and worshi pi ng and servi ng the creature more
than the Creator.
203
CHAPTER X
16. And bei ng admoni shed by these books to return i nto mysel f, I entered i nto
my i nward soul , gui ded by thee. Thi s I coul d do because thou wast my hel per. And I
entered, and wi th the eye of my soul --such as i t was--saw above the same eye of my
soul and above my mi nd the I mmutabl e Li ght. I t was not the common l i ght, whi ch
al l fl esh can see; nor was i t si mpl y a greater one of the same sort, as i f the l i ght of
day were to grow bri ghter and bri ghter, and fl ood al l space. I t was not l i ke that
l i ght, but di fferent, yea, very di fferent from al l earthl y l i ght whatever. Nor was i t
above my mi nd i n the same way as oi l i s above water, or heaven above earth, but i t
was hi gher, because i t made me, and I was bel ow i t, because I was made by i t. He
who knows the Truth knows that Li ght, and he who knows i t knows eterni ty. Love
knows i t, O Eternal Truth and True Love and Bel oved Eterni ty! Thou art my God,
to whom I si gh both ni ght and day. When I fi rst knew thee, thou di dst l i ft me up,
that I mi ght see that there was somethi ng to be seen, though I was not yet fi t to see
i t. And thou di dst beat back the weakness of my si ght, shi ni ng forth upon me thy
dazzl i ng beams of l i ght, and I trembl ed wi th l ove and fear. I real i zed that I was far
away from thee i n the l and of unl i keness, as i f I heard thy voi ce from on hi gh: I am
the food of strong men; grow and you shal l feed on me; nor shal l you change me, l i ke
the food of your fl esh i nto yoursel f, but you shal l be changed i nto my l i keness. And
I understood that thou chastenest man for hi s i ni qui ty, and makest my soul to be
eaten away as though by a spi der.
204
And I sai d, I s Truth, therefore, nothi ng,
because i t i s not di ffused through space--nei ther fi ni te nor i nfi ni te? And thou di dst
cry to me from afar, I am that I am.
205
And I heard thi s, as thi ngs are heard i n the
199
Rom. 1:23.
200
An echo of Porphyry's De abstinentia ab esu animalium.
201
The al l egori cal i nterpretati on of the I srael i tes' despoi l i ng the Egypti ans (Ex. 12:35, 36) made i t
refer to the l i berty of Chri sti an thi nkers i n appropri ati ng whatever was good and true from the
pagan phi l osophers of the Greco-Roman worl d. Thi s was a favori te theme of Cl ement of Al exandri a
and Ori gen and was qui te expl i ci tl y devel oped i n Ori gen's Epistle to Gregory Thaumaturgus (ANF,
I X, pp. 295, 296); cf. Augusti ne, On Christian Doctrine, I I , 41-42.
202
Cf. Acts 17:28.
203
Cf. Rom. 1:25.
204
Cf. Ps. 39:11.
205
Some MSS. add "immo vero" ("yea, veri l y"), but not the best ones; cf. De Labri ol l e, op. cit., I , p.
heart, and there was no room for doubt. I shoul d have more readi l y doubted that I
am al i ve than that the Truth exi sts--the Truth whi ch i s cl earl y seen, bei ng
understood by the thi ngs that are made.
206
CHAPTER XI
17. And I vi ewed al l the other thi ngs that are beneath thee, and I real i zed
that they are nei ther whol l y real nor whol l y unreal . They are real i n so far as they
come from thee; but they are unreal i n so far as they are not what thou art. For that
i s trul y real whi ch remai ns i mmutabl e. I t i s good, then, for me to hol d fast to God,
for i f I do not remai n i n hi m, nei ther shal l I abi de i n mysel f; but he, remai ni ng i n
hi msel f, renews al l thi ngs. And thou art the Lord my God, si nce thou standest i n no
need of my goodness.
CHAPTER XI I
18. And i t was made cl ear to me that al l thi ngs are good even i f they are
corrupted. They coul d not be corrupted i f they were supremel y good; but unl ess they
were good they coul d not be corrupted. I f they were supremel y good, they woul d be
i ncorrupti bl e; i f they were not good at al l , there woul d be nothi ng i n them to be
corrupted. For corrupti on harms; but unl ess i t coul d di mi ni sh goodness, i t coul d not
harm. Ei ther, then, corrupti on does not harm--whi ch cannot be--or, as i s certai n, al l
that i s corrupted i s thereby depri ved of good. But i f they are depri ved of al l good,
they wi l l cease to be. For i f they are at al l and cannot be at al l corrupted, they wi l l
become better, because they wi l l remai n i ncorrupti bl e. Now what can be more
monstrous than to mai ntai n that by l osi ng al l good they have become better? I f,
then, they are depri ved of al l good, they wi l l cease to exi st. So l ong as they are,
therefore, they are good. Therefore, whatsoever i s, i s good. Evi l , then, the ori gi n of
whi ch I had been seeki ng, has no substance at al l ; for i f i t were a substance, i t
woul d be good. For ei ther i t woul d be an i ncorrupti bl e substance and so a supreme
good, or a corrupti bl e substance, whi ch coul d not be corrupted unl ess i t were good. I
understood, therefore, and i t was made cl ear to me that thou madest al l thi ngs
good, nor i s there any substance at al l not made by thee. And because al l that thou
madest i s not equal , each by i tsel f i s good, and the sum of al l of them i s very good,
for our God made al l thi ngs very good.
207
CHAPTER XI I I
19. To thee there i s no such thi ng as evi l , and even i n thy whol e creati on
taken as a whol e, there i s not; because there i s nothi ng from beyond i t that can
burst i n and destroy the order whi ch thou hast appoi nted for i t. But i n the parts of
creati on, some thi ngs, because they do not harmoni ze wi th others, are consi dered
evi l . Yet those same thi ngs harmoni ze wi th others and are good, and i n themsel ves
are good. And al l these thi ngs whi ch do not harmoni ze wi th each other sti l l
harmoni ze wi th the i nferi or part of creati on whi ch we cal l the earth, havi ng i ts own
162.
206
Rom. 1:20.
207
A locus classicus of the doctri ne of the pri vati ve character of evi l and the posi ti ve character of the
good. Thi s i s a fundamental premi se i n Augusti ne's metaphysi cs: i t reappears i n Bks. XI I -XI I I , i n the
Enchiridion, and el sewhere (see note, infra, p. 343). Thi s doctri ne of the goodness of al l creati on i s
taken up i nto the schol asti c metaphysi cs; cf. Confessions, Bks. XI I -XI I I , and Thomas Aqui nas,
Summa contra gentes, I I : 45.
cl oudy and wi ndy sky of l i ke nature wi th i tsel f. Far be i t from me, then, to say,
These thi ngs shoul d not be. For i f I coul d see nothi ng but these, I shoul d i ndeed
desi re somethi ng better--but sti l l I ought to prai se thee, i f onl y for these created
thi ngs. For that thou art to be prai sed i s shown from the fact that earth, dragons,
and al l deeps; fi re, and hai l , snow and vapors, stormy wi nds ful fi l l i ng thy word;
mountai ns, and al l hi l l s, frui tful trees, and al l cedars; beasts and al l cattl e; creepi ng
thi ngs, and fl yi ng fowl ; thi ngs of the earth, and al l peopl e; pri nces, and al l judges of
the earth; both young men and mai dens, ol d men and chi l dren,
208
prai se thy name!
But seei ng al so that i n heaven al l thy angel s prai se thee, O God, prai se thee i n the
hei ghts, and al l thy hosts, sun and moon, al l stars and l i ght, the heavens of
heavens, and the waters that are above the heavens,
209
prai se thy name--seei ng
thi s, I say, I no l onger desi re a better worl d, because my thought ranged over al l ,
and wi th a sounder judgment I refl ected that the thi ngs above were better than
those bel ow, yet that al l creati on together was better than the hi gher thi ngs al one.
CHAPTER XI V
20. There i s no heal th i n those who fi nd faul t wi th any part of thy creati on; as
there was no heal th i n me when I found faul t wi th so many of thy works. And,
because my soul dared not be di spl eased wi th my God, i t woul d not al l ow that the
thi ngs whi ch di spl eased me were from thee. Hence i t had wandered i nto the noti on
of two substances, and coul d fi nd no rest, but tal ked fool i shl y, And turni ng from
that error, i t had then made for i tsel f a god extended through i nfi ni te space; and i t
thought thi s was thou and set i t up i n i ts heart, and i t became once more the templ e
of i ts own i dol , an abomi nati on to thee. But thou di dst soothe my brai n, though I
was unaware of i t, and cl osed my eyes l est they shoul d behol d vani ty; and thus I
ceased from preoccupati on wi th sel f by a l i ttl e and my madness was l ul l ed to sl eep;
and I awoke i n thee, and behel d thee as the I nfi ni te, but not i n the way I had
thought--and thi s vi si on was not deri ved from the fl esh.
CHAPTER XV
21. And I l ooked around at other thi ngs, and I saw that i t was to thee that al l
of them owed thei r bei ng, and that they were al l fi ni te i n thee; yet they are i n thee
not as i n a space, but because thou hol dest al l thi ngs i n the hand of thy truth, and
because al l thi ngs are true i n so far as they are; and because fal sehood i s nothi ng
except the exi stence i n thought of what does not exi st i n fact. And I saw that al l
thi ngs harmoni ze, not onl y i n thei r pl aces but al so i n thei r seasons. And I saw that
thou, who al one art eternal , di dst not begin to work after unnumbered peri ods of
ti me--because al l ages, both those whi ch are past and those whi ch shal l pass,
nei ther go nor come except through thy worki ng and abi di ng.
CHAPTER XVI
22. And I saw and found i t no marvel that bread whi ch i s di stasteful to an
unheal thy pal ate i s pl easant to a heal thy one; or that the l i ght, whi ch i s pai nful to
sore eyes, i s a del i ght to sound ones. Thy ri ghteousness di spl eases the wi cked, and
they fi nd even more faul t wi th the vi per and the l i ttl e worm, whi ch thou hast
created good, fi tti ng i n as they do wi th the i nferi or parts of creati on. The wi cked
208
Ps. 148:7-12.
209
Ps. 148:1-5.
themsel ves al so fi t i n here, and proporti onatel y more so as they become unl i ke thee-
-but they harmoni ze wi th the hi gher creati on proporti onatel y as they become l i ke
thee. And I asked what wi ckedness was, and I found that i t was no substance, but a
perversi on of the wi l l bent asi de from thee, O God, the supreme substance, toward
these l ower thi ngs, casti ng away i ts i nmost treasure and becomi ng bl oated wi th
external good.
210
CHAPTER XVI I
23. And I marvel ed that I now l oved thee, and no fantasm i n thy stead, and
yet I was not stabl e enough to enjoy my God steadi l y. I nstead I was transported to
thee by thy beauty, and then presentl y torn away from thee by my own wei ght,
si nki ng wi th gri ef i nto these l ower thi ngs. Thi s wei ght was carnal habi t. But thy
memory dwel t wi th me, and I never doubted i n the l east that there was One for me
to cl eave to; but I was not yet ready to cl eave to thee fi rml y. For the body whi ch i s
corrupted presses down the soul , and the earthl y dwel l i ng wei ghs down the mi nd,
whi ch muses upon many thi ngs.
211
My greatest certai nty was that the i nvi si bl e
thi ngs of thi ne from the creati on of the worl d are cl earl y seen, bei ng understood by
the thi ngs that are made, even thy eternal power and Godhead.
212
For when I
i nqui red how i t was that I coul d appreci ate the beauty of bodi es, both cel esti al and
terrestri al ; and what i t was that supported me i n maki ng correct judgments about
thi ngs mutabl e; and when I concl uded, Thi s ought to be thus; thi s ought not--then
when I i nqui red how i t was that I coul d make such judgments (si nce I di d, i n fact,
make them), I real i zed that I had found the unchangeabl e and true eterni ty of truth
above my changeabl e mi nd.
And thus by degrees I was l ed upward from bodi es to the soul whi ch percei ves
them by means of the bodi l y senses, and from there on to the soul s i nward facul ty,
to whi ch the bodi l y senses report outward thi ngs--and thi s bel ongs even to the
capaci ti es of the beasts--and thence on up to the reasoni ng power, to whose
judgment i s referred the experi ence recei ved from the bodi l y sense. And when thi s
power of reason wi thi n me al so found that i t was changeabl e, i t rai sed i tsel f up to i ts
own i ntel l ectual pri nci pl e,
213
and wi thdrew i ts thoughts from experi ence,
abstracti ng i tsel f from the contradi ctory throng of fantasms i n order to seek for that
l i ght i n whi ch i t was bathed. Then, wi thout any doubti ng, i t cri ed out that the
unchangeabl e was better than the changeabl e. From thi s i t fol l ows that the mi nd
somehow knew the unchangeabl e, for, unl ess i t had known i t i n some fashi on, i t
coul d have had no sure ground for preferri ng i t to the changeabl e. And thus wi th
the fl ash of a trembl i ng gl ance, i t arri ved at that which is.
214
And I saw thy
i nvi si bi l i ty [invisibilia tua] understood by means of the thi ngs that are made. But I
210
"The evi l whi ch overtakes us has i ts source i n sel f-wi l l , i n the entry i nto the sphere of process and
i n the pri mal asserti on of the desi re for sel f-ownershi p" (Pl oti nus, Enneads, V, 1:1).
211
"We have gone wei ghed down from beneath; the vi si on i s frustrated" (Enneads, VI , 9:4).
212
Rom. 1:20.
213
The Pl oti ni an Nous.
214
Thi s i s an astoni shi ngl y candi d and pl ai n account of a Pl oti ni an ecstasy, the pi l gri mage of the
soul from i ts absorpti on i n thi ngs to i ts rapturous but momentary vi si on of the One; cf. especi al l y the
Si xth Ennead, 9:3-11, for very cl ose paral l el s i n thought and echoes of l anguage. Thi s i s one of two
ecstati c vi si ons reported i n the Confessions; the other i s, of course, the l ast great moment wi th hi s
mother at Osti a (Bk. I X, Ch. X, 23-25). One comes before the "conversi on" i n the Mi l anese garden
(Bk. VI I I , Ch. XI I , 28-29); the other, after. They ought to be compared wi th parti cul ar i nterest i n
thei r similarities as wel l as thei r si gni fi cant di fferences. Cf. al so K.E. Ki rk, The Vision of God
(London, 1932), pp. 319-346.
was not abl e to sustai n my gaze. My weakness was dashed back, and I l apsed agai n
i nto my accustomed ways, carryi ng al ong wi th me nothi ng but a l ovi ng memory of
my vi si on, and an appeti te for what I had, as i t were, smel l ed the odor of, but was
not yet abl e to eat.
CHAPTER XVI I I
24. I sought, therefore, some way to acqui re the strength suffi ci ent to enjoy
thee; but I di d not fi nd i t unti l I embraced that Medi ator between God and man,
the man Chri st Jesus,
215
who i s over al l , God bl essed forever,
216
who came cal l i ng
and sayi ng, I am the way, the truth, and the l i fe,
217
and mi ngl i ng wi th our fl eshl y
humani ty the heavenl y food I was unabl e to recei ve. For the Word was made fl esh
i n order that thy wi sdom, by whi ch thou di dst create al l thi ngs, mi ght become mi l k
for our i nfancy. And, as yet, I was not humbl e enough to hol d the humbl e Jesus; nor
di d I understand what l esson hi s weakness was meant to teach us. For thy Word,
the eternal Truth, far exal ted above even the hi gher parts of thy creati on, l i fts hi s
subjects up toward hi msel f. But i n thi s l ower worl d, he bui l t for hi msel f a humbl e
habi tati on of our own cl ay, so that he mi ght pul l down from themsel ves and wi n
over to hi msel f those whom he i s to bri ng subject to hi m; l oweri ng thei r pri de and
hei ghteni ng thei r l ove, to the end that they mi ght go on no farther i n sel f-
confi dence--but rather shoul d become weak, seei ng at thei r feet the Dei ty made
weak by shari ng our coats of ski n--so that they mi ght cast themsel ves, exhausted,
upon hi m and be upl i fted by hi s ri si ng.
CHAPTER XI X
25. But I thought otherwi se. I saw i n our Lord Chri st onl y a man of emi nent
wi sdom to whom no other man coul d be compared--especi al l y because he was
mi racul ousl y born of a vi rgi n--sent to set us an exampl e of despi si ng worl dl y thi ngs
for the attai nment of i mmortal i ty, and thus exhi bi ti ng hi s di vi ne care for us.
Because of thi s, I hel d that he had meri ted hi s great authori ty as l eader. But
concerni ng the mystery contai ned i n the Word was made fl esh, I coul d not even
form a noti on. From what I l earned from what has been handed down to us i n the
books about hi m--that he ate, drank, sl ept, wal ked, rejoi ced i n spi ri t, was sad, and
di scoursed wi th hi s fel l ows--I real i zed that hi s fl esh al one was not bound unto thy
Word, but al so that there was a bond wi th the human soul and body. Everyone
knows thi s who knows the unchangeabl eness of thy Word, and thi s I knew by now,
as far as I was abl e, and I had no doubts at al l about i t. For at one ti me to move the
l i mbs by an act of wi l l , at another ti me not; at one ti me to feel some emoti on, at
another ti me not; at one ti me to speak i ntel l i gi bl y through verbal si gns, at another,
not--these are al l properti es of a soul and mi nd subject to change. And i f these
thi ngs were fal sel y wri tten about hi m, al l the rest woul d ri sk the i mputati on of
fal sehood, and there woul d remai n i n those books no savi ng fai th for the human
race.
Therefore, because they were wri tten truthful l y, I acknowl edged a perfect
man to be i n Chri st--not the body of a man onl y, nor, i n the body, an ani mal soul
wi thout a rati onal one as wel l , but a true man. And thi s man I hel d to be superi or to
al l others, not onl y because he was a form of the Truth, but al so because of the great
215
1 Ti m. 2:5.
216
Rom. 9:5.
217
John 14:6.
excel l ence and perfecti on of hi s human nature, due to hi s parti ci pati on i n wi sdom.
Al ypi us, on the other hand, supposed the Cathol i cs to bel i eve that God was so
cl othed wi th fl esh that besi des God and the fl esh there was no soul i n Chri st, and he
di d not thi nk that a human mi nd was ascri bed to hi m.
218
And because he was ful l y
persuaded that the acti ons recorded of hi m coul d not have been performed except by
a l i vi ng rati onal creature, he moved the more sl owl y toward Chri sti an fai th.
219
But
when he l ater l earned that thi s was the error of the Apol l i nari an hereti cs, he
rejoi ced i n the Cathol i c fai th and accepted i t. For mysel f, I must confess that i t was
even l ater that I l earned how i n the sentence, The Word was made fl esh, the
Cathol i c truth can be di sti ngui shed from the fal sehood of Photi nus. For the
refutati on of hereti cs
220
makes the tenets of thy Church and sound doctri ne to stand
out bol dl y. For there must al so be heresi es [facti ons] that those who are approved
may be made mani fest among the weak.
221
CHAPTER XX
26. By havi ng thus read the books of the Pl atoni sts, and havi ng been taught
by them to search for the i ncorporeal Truth, I saw how thy i nvi si bl e thi ngs are
understood through the thi ngs that are made. And, even when I was thrown back, I
sti l l sensed what i t was that the dul l ness of my soul woul d not al l ow me to
contempl ate. I was assured that thou wast, and wast i nfi ni te, though not di ffused i n
fi ni te space or i nfi ni ty; that thou trul y art, who art ever the same, varyi ng nei ther
i n part nor moti on; and that al l thi ngs are from thee, as i s proved by thi s sure cause
al one: that they exi st.
Of al l thi s I was convi nced, yet I was too weak to enjoy thee. I chattered away
as i f I were an expert; but i f I had not sought thy Way i n Chri st our Savi our, my
knowl edge woul d have turned out to be not i nstructi on but destructi on.
222
For now
ful l of what was i n fact my puni shment, I had begun to desi re to seem wi se. I di d
not mourn my i gnorance, but rather was puffed up wi th knowl edge. For where was
that l ove whi ch bui l ds upon the foundati on of humi l i ty, whi ch i s Jesus Chri st?
223
Or, when woul d these books teach me thi s? I now bel i eve that i t was thy pl easure
that I shoul d fal l upon these books before I studi ed thy Scri ptures, that i t mi ght be
i mpressed on my memory how I was affected by them; and then afterward, when I
was subdued by thy Scri ptures and when my wounds were touched by thy heal i ng
fi ngers, I mi ght di scern and di sti ngui sh what a di fference there i s between
presumpti on and confessi on--between those who saw where they were to go even i f
they di d not see the way, and the Way whi ch l eads, not onl y to the observi ng, but
al so the i nhabi ti ng of the bl essed country. For had I fi rst been mol ded i n thy Hol y
Scri ptures, and i f thou hadst grown sweet to me through my fami l i ar use of them,
and i f then I had afterward fal l en on those vol umes, they mi ght have pushed me off
the sol i d ground of godl i ness--or i f I had stood fi rm i n that whol esome di sposi ti on
whi ch I had there acqui red, I mi ght have thought that wi sdom coul d be attai ned by
218
An i nteresti ng remi nder that the Apol l i nari an heresy was condemned but not exti nct.
219
I t i s worth rememberi ng that both Augusti ne and Al ypi us were catechumens and had presumabl y
been recei vi ng doctri nal i nstructi on i n preparati on for thei r eventual bapti sm and ful l membershi p
i n the Cathol i c Church. That thei r i deas on the i ncarnati on, at thi s stage, were i n such confusi on
rai ses an i nteresti ng probl em.
220
Cf. Augusti ne's The Christian Combat as an exampl e of "the refutati on of hereti cs."
221
Cf. 1 Cor. 11:19.
222
Non peritus, sed periturus essem.
223
Cf. 1 Cor. 3:11f.
the study of those [Pl atoni st] books al one.
CHAPTER XXI
27. Wi th great eagerness, then, I fastened upon the venerabl e wri ti ngs of thy
Spi ri t and pri nci pal l y upon the apostl e Paul . I had thought that he someti mes
contradi cted hi msel f and that the text of hi s teachi ng di d not agree wi th the
testi moni es of the Law and the Prophets; but now al l these doubts vani shed away.
And I saw that those pure words had but one face, and I l earned to rejoi ce wi th
trembl i ng. So I began, and I found that whatever truth I had read [i n the Pl atoni sts]
was here combi ned wi th the exal tati on of thy grace. Thus, he who sees must not
gl ory as i f he had not recei ved, not onl y the thi ngs that he sees, but the very power
of si ght--for what does he have that he has not recei ved as a gi ft? By thi s he i s not
onl y exhorted to see, but al so to be cl eansed, that he may grasp thee, who art ever
the same; and thus he who cannot see thee afar off may yet enter upon the road that
l eads to reachi ng, seei ng, and possessi ng thee. For al though a man may del i ght i n
the l aw of God after the i nward man, what shal l he do wi th that other l aw i n hi s
members whi ch wars agai nst the l aw of hi s mi nd, and bri ngs hi m i nto capti vi ty
under the l aw of si n, whi ch i s i n hi s members?
224
Thou art ri ghteous, O Lord; but
we have si nned and commi tted i ni qui ti es, and have done wi ckedl y. Thy hand has
grown heavy upon us, and we are justl y del i vered over to that anci ent si nner, the
l ord of death. For he persuaded our wi l l s to become l i ke hi s wi l l , by whi ch he
remai ned not i n thy truth. What shal l wretched man do? Who shal l del i ver hi m
from the body of thi s death,
225
except thy grace through Jesus Chri st our Lord;
whom thou hast begotten, coeternal wi th thysel f, and di dst create i n the begi nni ng
of thy ways
226
--i n whom the pri nce of thi s worl d found nothi ng worthy of death, yet
he ki l l ed hi m--and so the handwri ti ng whi ch was al l agai nst us was bl otted out?
The books of the Pl atoni sts tel l nothi ng of thi s. Thei r pages do not contai n the
expressi on of thi s ki nd of godl i ness--the tears of confessi on, thy sacri fi ce, a troubl ed
spi ri t, a broken and a contri te heart, the sal vati on of thy peopl e, the espoused Ci ty,
the earnest of the Hol y Spi ri t, the cup of our redempti on. I n them, no man si ngs:
Shal l not my soul be subject unto God, for from hi m comes my sal vati on? He i s my
God and my sal vati on, my defender; I shal l no more be moved.
227
I n them, no one
hears hi m cal l i ng, Come unto me al l you who l abor. They scorn to l earn of hi m
because he i s meek and l owl y of heart; for thou hast hi dden those thi ngs from the
wi se and prudent, and hast reveal ed them unto babes. For i t i s one thi ng to see the
l and of peace from a wooded mountai ntop: and fai l to fi nd the way thi ther--to
attempt i mpassabl e ways i n vai n, opposed and wayl ai d by fugi ti ves and deserters
under thei r captai n, the l i on and dragon
228
; but i t i s qui te another thi ng to keep
to the hi ghway that l eads thi ther, guarded by the hosts of the heavenl y Emperor, on
whi ch there are no deserters from the heavenl y army to rob the passers-by, for they
224
Rom. 7:22, 23.
225
Rom. 7:24, 25.
226
Cf. Prov. 8:22 and Col . 1:15. Augusti ne i s here i denti fyi ng the fi gure of Wi sdom i n Proverbs wi th
the fi gure of the Logos i n the Prol ogue to the Fourth Gospel . I n the Ari an controversy both these
references to God's Wi sdom and Word as "created" caused great di ffi cul ty for the orthodox, for the
Ari ans tri umphantl y appeal ed to them as proof that Jesus Chri st was a "creature" of God. But
Augusti ne was a Chal cedoni an before Chal cedon, and there i s no doubt that he i s here quoti ng
fami l i ar Scri pture and fi l l i ng i t wi th the i nterpretati on achi eved by the l ong struggl e of the Church
to affi rm the coeterni ty and consubstanti al i ty of Jesus Chri st and God the Father.
227
Cf. Ps. 62:1, 2, 5, 6.
228
Cf. Ps. 91:13.
shun i t as a torment.
229
These thoughts sank wondrousl y i nto my heart, when I
read that l east of thy apostl es
230
and when I had consi dered al l thy works and
trembl ed.
229
A fi gure that compares the dangers of the sol i tary travel er i n a bandi t-i nfested l and and the
safety of an i mperi al convoy on a mai n hi ghway to the capi tal ci ty.
230
Cf. 1 Cor. 15:9.
BOOK EI GHT
Conversion to Christ. Augustine is deeply impressed by Simplicianus story of the
conversion to Christ of the famous orator and philosopher, Marius Victorinus. He is
stirred to emulate him, but finds himself still enchained by his incontinence and
preoccupation with worldly affairs. He is then visited by a court official, Ponticianus,
who tells him and Alypius the stories of the conversion of Anthony and also of two
imperial secret service agents. These stories throw him into a violent turmoil, in
which his divided will struggles against himself. He almost succeeds in making the
decision for continence, but is still held back. Finally, a childs song, overheard by
chance, sends him to the Bible; a text from Paul resolves the crisis; the conversion is a
fact. Alypius also makes his decision, and the two inform the rejoicing Monica.
CHAPTER I
1. O my God, l et me remember wi th grati tude and confess to thee thy merci es
toward me. Let my bones be bathed i n thy l ove, and l et them say: Lord, who i s l i ke
unto thee?
231
Thou hast broken my bonds i n sunder, I wi l l offer unto thee the
sacri fi ce of thanksgi vi ng.
232
And how thou di dst break them I wi l l decl are, and al l
who worshi p thee shal l say, when they hear these thi ngs: Bl essed be the Lord i n
heaven and earth, great and wonderful i s hi s name.
233
Thy words had stuck fast i n my breast, and I was hedged round about by thee
on every si de. Of thy eternal l i fe I was now certai n, al though I had seen i t through
a gl ass darkl y.
234
And I had been rel i eved of al l doubt that there i s an i ncorrupti bl e
substance and that i t i s the source of every other substance. Nor di d I any l onger
crave greater certai nty about thee, but rather greater steadfastness i n thee.
But as for my temporal l i fe, everythi ng was uncertai n, and my heart had to
be purged of the ol d l eaven. The Way--the Savi our hi msel f--pl eased me wel l , but as
yet I was rel uctant to pass through the strai t gate.
And thou di dst put i t i nto my mi nd, and i t seemed good i n my own si ght, to go
to Si mpl i ci anus, who appeared to me a fai thful servant of thi ne, and thy grace shone
forth i n hi m. I had al so been tol d that from hi s youth up he had l i ved i n enti re
devoti on to thee. He was al ready an ol d man, and because of hi s great age, whi ch he
had passed i n such a zeal ous di sci pl eshi p i n thy way, he appeared to me l i kel y to
have gai ned much wi sdom--and, i ndeed, he had. From al l hi s experi ence, I desi red
hi m to tel l me--setti ng before hi m al l my agi tati ons--whi ch woul d be the most fi tti ng
way for one who fel t as I di d to wal k i n thy way.
2. For I saw the Church ful l ; and one man was goi ng thi s way and another
that. Sti l l , I coul d not be sati sfi ed wi th the l i fe I was l i vi ng i n the worl d. Now,
i ndeed, my passi ons had ceased to exci te me as of ol d wi th hopes of honor and
weal th, and i t was a gri evous burden to go on i n such servi tude. For, compared wi th
thy sweetness and the beauty of thy house--whi ch I l oved--those thi ngs del i ghted me
no l onger. But I was sti l l ti ghtl y bound by the l ove of women; nor di d the apostl e
forbi d me to marry, al though he exhorted me to somethi ng better, wi shi ng earnestl y
that al l men were as he hi msel f was.
But I was weak and chose the easi er way, and for thi s si ngl e reason my whol e
231
Ps. 35:10.
232
Cf. Ps. 116:16, 17.
233
Cf. Ps. 8:1.
234
1 Cor. 13:12.
l i fe was one of i nner turbul ence and l i stl ess i ndeci si on, because from so many
i nfl uences I was compel l ed--even though unwi l l i ng--to agree to a marri ed l i fe whi ch
bound me hand and foot. I had heard from the mouth of Truth that there are
eunuchs who have made themsel ves eunuchs for the Ki ngdom of Heavens sake
235
but, sai d he, He that i s abl e to recei ve i t, l et hi m recei ve i t. Of a certai nty, al l men
are vai n who do not have the knowl edge of God, or have not been abl e, from the
good thi ngs that are seen, to fi nd hi m who i s good. But I was no l onger fettered i n
that vani ty. I had surmounted i t, and from the uni ted testi mony of thy whol e
creati on had found thee, our Creator, and thy Word--God wi th thee, and together
wi th thee and the Hol y Spi ri t, one God--by whom thou hast created al l thi ngs. There
i s sti l l another sort of wi cked men, who when they knew God, they gl ori fi ed hi m
not as God, nei ther were thankful .
236
I nto thi s al so I had fal l en, but thy ri ght hand
hel d me up and bore me away, and thou di dst pl ace me where I mi ght recover. For
thou hast sai d to men, Behol d the fear of the Lord, thi s i s wi sdom,
237
and, Be not
wi se i n your own eyes,
238
because they that profess themsel ves to be wi se become
fool s.
239
But I had now found the goodl y pearl ; and I ought to have sol d al l that I
had and bought i t--yet I hesi tated.
CHAPTER I I
3. I went, therefore, to Si mpl i ci anus, the spi ri tual father of Ambrose (then a
bi shop), whom Ambrose trul y l oved as a father. I recounted to hi m al l the mazes of
my wanderi ngs, but when I menti oned to hi m that I had read certai n books of the
Pl atoni sts whi ch Vi ctori nus--formerl y professor of rhetori c at Rome, who di ed a
Chri sti an, as I had been tol d--had transl ated i nto Lati n, Si mpl i ci anus congratul ated
me that I had not fal l en upon the wri ti ngs of other phi l osophers, whi ch were ful l of
fal l aci es and decei t, after the beggarl y el ements of thi s worl d,
240
whereas i n the
Pl atoni sts, at every turn, the pathway l ed to bel i ef i n God and hi s Word.
Then, to encourage me to copy the humi l i ty of Chri st, whi ch i s hi dden from
the wi se and reveal ed to babes, he tol d me about Vi ctori nus hi msel f, whom he had
known i nti matel y at Rome. And I cannot refrai n from repeati ng what he tol d me
about hi m. For i t contai ns a gl ori ous proof of thy grace, whi ch ought to be confessed
to thee: how that ol d man, most l earned, most ski l l ed i n al l the l i beral arts; who had
read, cri ti ci zed, and expl ai ned so many of the wri ti ngs of the phi l osophers; the
teacher of so many nobl e senators; one who, as a mark of hi s di sti ngui shed servi ce
i n offi ce had both meri ted and obtai ned a statue i n the Roman Forum--whi ch men of
thi s worl d esteem a great honor--thi s man who, up to an advanced age, had been a
worshi per of i dol s, a communi cant i n the sacri l egi ous ri tes to whi ch al most al l the
nobi l i ty of Rome were wedded; and who had i nspi red the peopl e wi th the l ove of
Osi ri s and
The dog Anubi s, and a medl ey crew
Of monster gods who gai nst Neptune stand i n arms
Gai nst Venus and Mi nerva, steel -cl ad Mars,
241
235
Matt. 19:12.
236
Rom. 1:21.
237
Job 28:28.
238
Prov. 3:7.
239
Rom. 1:22.
240
Col . 2:8.
241
Vi rgi l , Aeneid, VI I I , 698.
whom Rome once conquered, and now worshi ped; al l of whi ch ol d Vi ctori nus had
wi th thunderi ng el oquence defended for so many years--despi te al l thi s, he di d not
bl ush to become a chi l d of thy Chri st, a babe at thy font, bowi ng hi s neck to the yoke
of humi l i ty and submi tti ng hi s forehead to the i gnomi ny of the cross.
4. O Lord, Lord, who di dst bow the heavens and di dst descend, who di dst
touch the mountai ns and they smoked,
242
by what means di dst thou fi nd thy way
i nto that breast? He used to read the Hol y Scri ptures, as Si mpl i ci anus sai d, and
thought out and studi ed al l the Chri sti an wri ti ngs most studi ousl y. He sai d to
Si mpl i ci anus--not openl y but secretl y as a fri end--You must know that I am a
Chri sti an. To whi ch Si mpl i ci anus repl i ed, I shal l not bel i eve i t, nor shal l I count
you among the Chri sti ans, unti l I see you i n the Church of Chri st. Vi ctori nus then
asked, wi th mi l d mockery, I s i t then the wal l s that make Chri sti ans? Thus he
often woul d affi rm that he was al ready a Chri sti an, and as often Si mpl i ci anus made
the same answer; and just as often hi s jest about the wal l s was repeated. He was
fearful of offendi ng hi s fri ends, proud demon worshi pers, from the hei ght of whose
Babyl oni an di gni ty, as from the tops of the cedars of Lebanon whi ch the Lord had
not yet broken down, he feared that a storm of enmi ty woul d descend upon hi m.
But he steadi l y gai ned strength from readi ng and i nqui ry, and came to fear
l est he shoul d be deni ed by Chri st before the hol y angel s i f he now was afrai d to
confess hi m before men. Thus he came to appear to hi msel f gui l ty of a great faul t, i n
bei ng ashamed of the sacraments of the humi l i ty of thy Word, when he was not
ashamed of the sacri l egi ous ri tes of those proud demons, whose pri de he had
i mi tated and whose ri tes he had shared. From thi s he became bol d-faced agai nst
vani ty and shamefaced toward the truth. Thus, suddenl y and unexpectedl y, he sai d
to Si mpl i ci anus--as he hi msel f tol d me--Let us go to the church; I wi sh to become a
Chri sti an. Si mpl i ci anus went wi th hi m, scarcel y abl e to contai n hi msel f for joy. He
was admi tted to the fi rst sacraments of i nstructi on, and not l ong afterward gave i n
hi s name that he mi ght recei ve the bapti sm of regenerati on. At thi s Rome marvel ed
and the Church rejoi ced. The proud saw and were enraged; they gnashed thei r teeth
and mel ted away! But the Lord God was thy servants hope and he pai d no attenti on
to thei r vani ty and l yi ng madness.
5. Fi nal l y, when the hour arri ved for hi m to make a publ i c professi on of hi s
fai th--whi ch at Rome those who are about to enter i nto thy grace make from a
pl atform i n the ful l si ght of the fai thful peopl e, i n a set form of words l earned by
heart--the presbyters offered Vi ctori nus the chance to make hi s professi on more
pri vatel y, for thi s was the custom for some who were l i kel y to be afrai d through
bashful ness. But Vi ctori nus chose rather to profess hi s sal vati on i n the presence of
the hol y congregati on. For there was no sal vati on i n the rhetori c whi ch he taught:
yet he had professed that openl y. Why, then, shoul d he shri nk from nami ng thy
Word before the sheep of thy fl ock, when he had not shrunk from utteri ng hi s own
words before the mad mul ti tude?
So, then, when he ascended the pl atform to make hi s professi on, everyone, as
they recogni zed hi m, whi spered hi s name one to the other, i n tones of jubi l ati on.
Who was there among them that di d not know hi m? And a l ow murmur ran through
the mouths of al l the rejoi ci ng mul ti tude: Vi ctori nus! Vi ctori nus! There was a
sudden burst of exal tati on at the si ght of hi m, and suddenl y they were hushed that
they mi ght hear hi m. He pronounced the true fai th wi th an excel l ent bol dness, and
al l desi red to take hi m to thei r very heart--i ndeed, by thei r l ove and joy they di d
take hi m to thei r heart. And they recei ved hi m wi th l ovi ng and joyful hands.
242
Ps. 144:5.
CHAPTER I I I
6. O good God, what happens i n a man to make hi m rejoi ce more at the
sal vati on of a soul that has been despai red of and then del i vered from greater
danger than over one who has never l ost hope, or never been i n such i mmi nent
danger? For thou al so, O most merci ful Father, dost rejoi ce more over one that
repents than over ni nety and ni ne just persons that need no repentance.
243
And we
l i sten wi th much del i ght whenever we hear how the l ost sheep i s brought home
agai n on the shepherds shoul ders whi l e the angel s rejoi ce; or when the pi ece of
money i s restored to i ts pl ace i n the treasury and the nei ghbors rejoi ce wi th the
woman who found i t.
244
And the joy of the sol emn festi val of thy house constrai ns us
to tears when i t i s read i n thy house: about the younger son who was dead and i s
al i ve agai n, was l ost and i s found. For i t i s thou who rejoi cest both i n us and i n thy
angel s, who are hol y through hol y l ove. For thou art ever the same because thou
knowest unchangeabl y al l thi ngs whi ch remai n nei ther the same nor forever.
7. What, then, happens i n the soul when i t takes more del i ght at fi ndi ng or
havi ng restored to i t the thi ngs i t l oves than i f i t had al ways possessed them?
I ndeed, many other thi ngs bear wi tness that thi s i s so--al l thi ngs are ful l of
wi tnesses, cryi ng out, So i t i s. The commander tri umphs i n vi ctory; yet he coul d
not have conquered i f he had not fought; and the greater the peri l of the battl e, the
more the joy of the tri umph. The storm tosses the voyagers, threatens shi pwreck,
and everyone turns pal e i n the presence of death. Then the sky and sea grow cal m,
and they rejoi ce as much as they had feared. A l oved one i s si ck and hi s pul se
i ndi cates danger; al l who desi re hi s safety are themsel ves si ck at heart; he recovers,
though not abl e as yet to wal k wi th hi s former strength; and there i s more joy now
than there was before when he wal ked sound and strong. I ndeed, the very pl easures
of human l i fe--not onl y those whi ch rush upon us unexpectedl y and i nvol untari l y,
but al so those whi ch are vol untary and pl anned--men obtai n by di ffi cul ti es. There i s
no pl easure i n cari ng and dri nki ng unl ess the pai ns of hunger and thi rst have
preceded. Drunkards even eat certai n sal t meats i n order to create a pai nful thi rst--
and when the dri nk al l ays thi s, i t causes pl easure. I t i s al so the custom that the
affi anced bri de shoul d not be i mmedi atel y gi ven i n marri age so that the husband
may not esteem her any l ess, whom as hi s betrothed he l onged for.
8. Thi s can be seen i n the case of base and di shonorabl e pl easure. But i t i s
al so apparent i n pl easures that are permi tted and l awful : i n the si nceri ty of honest
fri endshi p; and i n hi m who was dead and l i ved agai n, who had been l ost and was
found. The greater joy i s everywhere preceded by the greater pai n. What does thi s
mean, O Lord my God, when thou art an everl asti ng joy to thysel f, and some
creatures about thee are ever rejoi ci ng i n thee? What does i t mean that thi s porti on
of creati on thus ebbs and fl ows, al ternatel y i n want and sati ety? I s thi s thei r mode
of bei ng and i s thi s al l thou hast al l otted to them: that, from the hi ghest heaven to
the l owest earth, from the begi nni ng of the worl d to the end, from the angel s to the
worm, from the fi rst movement to the l ast, thou wast assi gni ng to al l thei r proper
pl aces and thei r proper seasons--to al l the ki nds of good thi ngs and to al l thy just
works? Al as, how hi gh thou art i n the hi ghest and how deep i n the deepest! Thou
never departest from us, and yet onl y wi th di ffi cul ty do we return to thee.
CHAPTER I V
243
Luke 15:4.
244
Cf. Luke, ch. 15.
9. Go on, O Lord, and act: sti r us up and cal l us back; i nfl ame us and draw us
to thee; sti r us up and grow sweet to us; l et us now l ove thee, l et us run to thee. Are
there not many men who, out of a deeper pi t of darkness than that of Vi ctori nus,
return to thee--who draw near to thee and are i l l umi nated by that l i ght whi ch gi ves
those who recei ve i t power from thee to become thy sons? But i f they are l ess wel l -
known, even those who know them rejoi ce l ess for them. For when many rejoi ce
together the joy of each one i s ful l er, i n that they warm one another, catch fi re from
each other; moreover, those who are wel l -known i nfl uence many toward sal vati on
and take the l ead wi th many to fol l ow them. Therefore, even those who took the way
before them rejoi ce over them greatl y, because they do not rejoi ce over them al one.
But i t ought never to be that i n thy tabernacl e the persons of the ri ch shoul d be
wel come before the poor, or the nobl y born before the rest--si nce thou hast rather
chosen the weak thi ngs of the worl d to confound the strong; and hast chosen the
base thi ngs of the worl d and thi ngs that are despi sed, and the thi ngs that are not,
i n order to bri ng to nought the thi ngs that are.
245
I t was even the l east of the
apostl es by whose tongue thou di dst sound forth these words. And when Paul us the
proconsul had hi s pri de overcome by the onsl aught of the apostl e and he was made
to pass under the easy yoke of thy Chri st and became an offi cer of the great Ki ng, he
al so desi red to be cal l ed Paul i nstead of Saul , hi s former name, i n testi mony to such
a great vi ctory.
246
For the enemy i s more overcome i n one on whom he has a greater
hol d, and whom he has hol d of more compl etel y. But the proud he control s more
readi l y through thei r concern about thei r rank and, through them, he control s more
by means of thei r i nfl uence. The more, therefore, the worl d pri zed the heart of
Vi ctori nus (whi ch the devi l had hel d i n an i mpregnabl e stronghol d) and the tongue
of Vi ctori nus (that sharp, strong weapon wi th whi ch the devi l had sl ai n so many),
al l the more exul ti ngl y shoul d Thy sons rejoi ce because our Ki ng hath bound the
strong man, and they saw hi s vessel s taken from hi m and cl eansed, and made fi t for
thy honor and profi tabl e to the Lord for every good work.
247
CHAPTER V
10. Now when thi s man of thi ne, Si mpl i ci anus, tol d me the story of
Vi ctori nus, I was eager to i mi tate hi m. I ndeed, thi s was Si mpl i ci anus purpose i n
tel l i ng i t to me. But when he went on to tel l how, i n the rei gn of the Emperor Jul i an,
there was a l aw passed by whi ch Chri sti ans were forbi dden to teach l i terature and
rhetori c; and how Vi ctori nus, i n ready obedi ence to the l aw, chose to abandon hi s
school of words rather than thy Word, by whi ch thou makest el oquent the tongues
of the dumb--he appeared to me not so much brave as happy, because he had found
a reason for gi vi ng hi s ti me whol l y to thee. For thi s was what I was l ongi ng to do;
but as yet I was bound by the i ron chai n of my own wi l l . The enemy hel d fast my
wi l l , and had made of i t a chai n, and had bound me ti ght wi th i t. For out of the
perverse wi l l came l ust, and the servi ce of l ust ended i n habi t, and habi t, not
resi sted, became necessi ty. By these l i nks, as i t were, forged together--whi ch i s why
I cal l ed i t a chai n--a hard bondage hel d me i n sl avery. But that new wi l l whi ch
had begun to spri ng up i n me freel y to worshi p thee and to enjoy thee, O my God,
the onl y certai n Joy, was not abl e as yet to overcome my former wi l l ful ness, made
strong by l ong i ndul gence. Thus my two wi l l s--the ol d and the new, the carnal and
245
1 Cor. 1:27.
246
A garbl ed reference to the story of the conversi on of Sergi us Paul us, proconsul of Cyprus, i n Acts
13:4-12.
247
2 Ti m. 2:21.
the spi ri tual --were i n confl i ct wi thi n me; and by thei r di scord they tore my soul
apart.
11. Thus I came to understand from my own experi ence what I had read, how
the fl esh l usts agai nst the Spi ri t, and the Spi ri t agai nst the fl esh.
248
I trul y l usted
both ways, yet more i n that whi ch I approved i n mysel f than i n that whi ch I
di sapproved i n mysel f. For i n the l atter i t was not now real l y I that was i nvol ved,
because here I was rather an unwi l l i ng sufferer than a wi l l i ng actor. And yet i t was
through me that habi t had become an armed enemy agai nst me, because I had
wi l l i ngl y come to be what I unwi l l i ngl y found mysel f to be.
Who, then, can wi th any justi ce speak agai nst i t, when just puni shment
fol l ows the si nner? I had now no l onger my accustomed excuse that, as yet, I
hesi tated to forsake the worl d and serve thee because my percepti on of the truth
was uncertai n. For now i t was certai n. But, sti l l bound to the earth, I refused to be
thy sol di er; and was as much afrai d of bei ng freed from al l entangl ements as we
ought to fear to be entangl ed.
12. Thus wi th the baggage of the worl d I was sweetl y burdened, as one i n
sl umber, and my musi ngs on thee were l i ke the efforts of those who desi re to awake,
but who are sti l l overpowered wi th drowsi ness and fal l back i nto deep sl umber. And
as no one wi shes to sl eep forever (for al l men ri ghtl y count waki ng better)--yet a
man wi l l usual l y defer shaki ng off hi s drowsi ness when there i s a heavy l ethargy i n
hi s l i mbs; and he i s gl ad to sl eep on even when hi s reason di sapproves, and the hour
for ri si ng has struck--so was I assured that i t was much better for me to gi ve mysel f
up to thy l ove than to go on yi el di ng mysel f to my own l ust. Thy l ove sati sfi ed and
vanqui shed me; my l ust pl eased and fettered me.
249
I had no answer to thy cal l i ng
to me, Awake, you who sl eep, and ari se from the dead, and Chri st shal l gi ve you
l i ght.
250
On al l si des, thou di dst show me that thy words are true, and I , convi cted
by the truth, had nothi ng at al l to repl y but the drawl i ng and drowsy words:
Presentl y; see, presentl y. Leave me al one a l i ttl e whi l e. But presentl y, presentl y,
had no present; and my l eave me al one a l i ttl e whi l e went on for a l ong whi l e. I n
vai n di d I del i ght i n thy l aw i n the i nner man whi l e another l aw i n my members
warred agai nst the l aw of my mi nd and brought me i nto capti vi ty to the l aw of si n
whi ch i s i n my members. For the l aw of si n i s the tyranny of habi t, by whi ch the
mi nd i s drawn and hel d, even agai nst i ts wi l l . Yet i t deserves to be so hel d because
i t so wi l l i ngl y fal l s i nto the habi t. O wretched man that I am! Who shal l del i ver me
from the body of thi s death but thy grace al one, through Jesus Chri st our Lord?
251
CHAPTER VI
13. And now I wi l l tel l and confess unto thy name, O Lord, my hel per and my
redeemer, how thou di dst del i ver me from the chai n of sexual desi re by whi ch I was
so ti ghtl y hel d, and from the sl avery of worl dl y busi ness.
252
Wi th i ncreasi ng anxi ety
I was goi ng about my usual affai rs, and dai l y si ghi ng to thee. I attended thy church
as frequentl y as my busi ness, under the burden of whi ch I groaned, l eft me free to
248
Gal . 5:17.
249
The text here i s a typi cal exampl e of Augusti ne's l ove of wordpl ay and assonance, as a consci ous
l i terary devi ce: tuae caritati me dedere quam meae cupiditati cedere; sed illud pl acebat et vi ncebat,
hoc l i bebat et vi nci ebat.
250
Eph. 5:14.
251
Rom. 7:22-25.
252
The l ast obstacl es that remai ned. Hi s i ntel l ectual di ffi cul ti es had been cl eared away and the
i ntenti on to become a Chri sti an had become strong. But i nconti nence and i mmersi on i n hi s career
were too fi rml y fi xed i n habi t to be overcome by an act of consci ous resol uti on.
do so. Al ypi us was wi th me, di sengaged at l ast from hi s l egal post, after a thi rd term
as assessor, and now wai ti ng for pri vate cl i ents to whom he mi ght sel l hi s l egal
advi ce as I sol d the power of speaki ng (as i f i t coul d be suppl i ed by teachi ng). But
Nebri di us had consented, for the sake of our fri endshi p, to teach under Verecundus-
-a ci ti zen of Mi l an and professor of grammar, and a very i nti mate fri end of us al l --
who ardentl y desi red, and by ri ght of fri endshi p demanded from us, the fai thful ai d
he greatl y needed. Nebri di us was not drawn to thi s by any desi re of gai n--for he
coul d have made much more out of hi s l earni ng had he been so i ncl i ned--but as he
was a most sweet and ki ndl y fri end, he was unwi l l i ng, out of respect for the duti es
of fri endshi p, to sl i ght our request. But i n thi s he acted very di screetl y, taki ng care
not to become known to those persons who had great reputati ons i n the worl d. Thus
he avoi ded al l di stracti ons of mi nd, and reserved as many hours as possi bl e to
pursue or read or l i sten to di scussi ons about wi sdom.
14. On a certai n day, then, when Nebri di us was away--for some reason I
cannot remember--there came to vi si t Al ypi us and me at our house one Ponti ci anus,
a fel l ow countryman of ours from Afri ca, who hel d hi gh offi ce i n the emperors court.
What he wanted wi th us I do not know; but we sat down to tal k together, and i t
chanced that he noti ced a book on a game tabl e before us. He took i t up, opened i t,
and, contrary to hi s expectati on, found i t to be the apostl e Paul , for he i magi ned
that i t was one of my weari some rhetori c textbooks. At thi s, he l ooked up at me wi th
a smi l e and expressed hi s del i ght and wonder that he had so unexpectedl y found
thi s book and onl y thi s one, l yi ng before my eyes; for he was i ndeed a Chri sti an and
a fai thful one at that, and often he prostrated hi msel f before thee, our God, i n the
church i n constant dai l y prayer. When I had tol d hi m that I had gi ven much
attenti on to these wri ti ngs, a conversati on fol l owed i n whi ch he spoke of Anthony,
the Egypti an monk, whose name was i n hi gh repute among thy servants, al though
up to that ti me not fami l i ar to me. When he l earned thi s, he l i ngered on the topi c,
gi vi ng us an account of thi s emi nent man, and marvel i ng at our i gnorance. We i n
turn were amazed to hear of thy wonderful works so ful l y mani fested i n recent
ti mes--al most i n our own--occurri ng i n the true fai th and the Cathol i c Church. We
al l wondered--we, that these thi ngs were so great, and he, that we had never heard
of them.
15. From thi s, hi s conversati on turned to the mul ti tudes i n the monasteri es
and thei r manners so fragrant to thee, and to the teemi ng sol i tudes of the
wi l derness, of whi ch we knew nothi ng at al l . There was even a monastery at Mi l an,
outsi de the ci tys wal l s, ful l of good brothers under the fosteri ng care of Ambrose--
and we were i gnorant of i t. He went on wi th hi s story, and we l i stened i ntentl y and
i n si l ence. He then tol d us how, on a certai n afternoon, at Tri er,
253
when the
emperor was occupi ed watchi ng the gl adi atori al games, he and three comrades went
out for a wal k i n the gardens cl ose to the ci ty wal l s. There, as they chanced to wal k
two by two, one strol l ed away wi th hi m, whi l e the other two went on by themsel ves.
As they rambl ed, these fi rst two came upon a certai n cottage where l i ved some of
thy servants, some of the poor i n spi ri t (of such i s the Ki ngdom of Heaven),
where they found the book i n whi ch was wri tten the l i fe of Anthony! One of them
began to read i t, to marvel and to be i nfl amed by i t. Whi l e readi ng, he medi tated on
embraci ng just such a l i fe, gi vi ng up hi s worl dl y empl oyment to seek thee al one.
These two bel onged to the group of offi ci al s cal l ed secret servi ce agents.
254
Then,
253
Trves, an i mportant i mperi al town on the Mosel l e; the emperor referred to here was probabl y
Grati an. Cf. E.A. Freeman, "Augusta Trevororum," i n the British Quarterly Review (1875), 62, pp. 1-
45.
254
Agentes in rebus, government agents whose duti es ranged from postal i nspecti on and tax
suddenl y bei ng overwhel med wi th a hol y l ove and a sober shame and as i f i n anger
wi th hi msel f, he fi xed hi s eyes on hi s fri end, excl ai mi ng: Tel l me, I beg you, what
goal are we seeki ng i n al l these toi l s of ours? What i s i t that we desi re? What i s our
moti ve i n publ i c servi ce? Can our hopes i n the court ri se hi gher than to be fri ends of
the emperor
255
? But how frai l , how beset wi th peri l , i s that pri de! Through what
dangers must we cl i mb to a greater danger? And when shal l we succeed? But i f I
chose to become a fri end of God, see, I can become one now. Thus he spoke, and i n
the pangs of the travai l of the new l i fe he turned hi s eyes agai n onto the page and
conti nued readi ng; he was i nwardl y changed, as thou di dst see, and the worl d
dropped away from hi s mi nd, as soon became pl ai n to others. For as he read wi th a
heart l i ke a stormy sea, more than once he groaned. Fi nal l y he saw the better
course, and resol ved on i t. Then, havi ng become thy servant, he sai d to hi s fri end:
Now I have broken l oose from those hopes we had, and I am determi ned to serve
God; and I enter i nto that servi ce from thi s hour i n thi s pl ace. I f you are rel uctant to
i mi tate me, do not oppose me. The other repl i ed that he woul d conti nue bound i n
hi s fri endshi p, to share i n so great a servi ce for so great a pri ze. So both became
thi ne, and began to bui l d a tower, counti ng the cost--namel y, of forsaki ng al l that
they had and fol l owi ng thee.
256
Shortl y after, Ponti ci anus and hi s compani on, who
had wal ked wi th hi m i n the other part of the garden, came i n search of them to the
same pl ace, and havi ng found them remi nded them to return, as the day was
decl i ni ng. But the fi rst two, maki ng known to Ponti ci anus thei r resol uti on and
purpose, and how a resol ve had sprung up and become confi rmed i n them, entreated
them not to take i t i l l i f they refused to joi n themsel ves wi th them. But Ponti ci anus
and hi s fri end, al though not changed from thei r former course, di d neverthel ess (as
he tol d us) bewai l themsel ves and congratul ated thei r fri ends on thei r godl i ness,
recommendi ng themsel ves to thei r prayers. And wi th hearts i ncl i ni ng agai n toward
earthl y thi ngs, they returned to the pal ace. But the other two, setti ng thei r
affecti ons on heavenl y thi ngs, remai ned i n the cottage. Both of them had affi anced
bri des who, when they heard of thi s, l i kewi se dedi cated thei r vi rgi ni ty to thee.
CHAPTER VI I
16. Such was the story Ponti ci anus tol d. But whi l e he was speaki ng, thou, O
Lord, turned me toward mysel f, taki ng me from behi nd my back, where I had put
mysel f whi l e unwi l l i ng to exerci se sel f-scruti ny. And now thou di dst set me face to
face wi th mysel f, that I mi ght see how ugl y I was, and how crooked and sordi d,
bespotted and ul cerous. And I l ooked and I l oathed mysel f; but whi ther to fl y from
mysel f I coul d not di scover. And i f I sought to turn my gaze away from mysel f, he
woul d conti nue hi s narrati ve, and thou woul dst oppose me to mysel f and thrust me
before my own eyes that I mi ght di scover my i ni qui ty and hate i t. I had known i t,
but acted as though I knew i t not--I wi nked at i t and forgot i t.
17. But now, the more ardentl y I l oved those whose whol esome affecti ons I
heard reported--that they had gi ven themsel ves up whol l y to thee to be cured--the
more di d I abhor mysel f when compared wi th them. For many of my years--perhaps
twel ve--had passed away si nce my ni neteenth, when, upon the readi ng of Ci ceros
Hortensi us, I was roused to a desi re for wi sdom. And here I was, sti l l postponi ng the
col l ecti on to espi onage and secret pol i ce work. They were ubi qui tous and general l y dreaded by the
popul ace; cf. J.S. Rei d, "Reorgani zati on of the Empi re," i n Cambridge Medieval History, Vol . I , pp.
36-38.
255
The i nner ci rcl e of i mperi al advi sers; usual l y rather i nformal l y appoi nted and usual l y wi th
precari ous tenure.
256
Cf. Luke 14:28-33.
abandonment of thi s worl ds happi ness to devote mysel f to the search. For not just
the fi ndi ng al one, but al so the bare search for i t, ought to have been preferred above
the treasures and ki ngdoms of thi s worl d; better than al l bodi l y pl easures, though
they were to be had for the taki ng. But, wretched youth that I was--supremel y
wretched even i n the very outset of my youth--I had entreated chasti ty of thee and
had prayed, Grant me chasti ty and conti nence, but not yet. For I was afrai d l est
thou shoul dst hear me too soon, and too soon cure me of my di sease of l ust whi ch I
desi red to have sati sfi ed rather than exti ngui shed. And I had wandered through
perverse ways of godl ess supersti ti on--not real l y sure of i t, ei ther, but preferri ng i t
to the other, whi ch I di d not seek i n pi ety, but opposed i n mal i ce.
18. And I had thought that I del ayed from day to day i n rejecti ng those
worl dl y hopes and fol l owi ng thee al one because there di d not appear anythi ng
certai n by whi ch I coul d di rect my course. And now the day had arri ved i n whi ch I
was l ai d bare to mysel f and my consci ence was to chi de me: Where are you, O my
tongue? You sai d i ndeed that you were not wi l l i ng to cast off the baggage of vani ty
for uncertai n truth. But behol d now i t i s certai n, and sti l l that burden oppresses
you. At the same ti me those who have not worn themsel ves out wi th searchi ng for i t
as you have, nor spent ten years and more i n thi nki ng about i t, have had thei r
shoul ders unburdened and have recei ved wi ngs to fl y away. Thus was I i nwardl y
confused, and mi ghti l y confounded wi th a horri bl e shame, whi l e Ponti ci anus went
ahead speaki ng such thi ngs. And when he had fi ni shed hi s story and the busi ness
he came for, he went hi s way. And then what di d I not say to mysel f, wi thi n mysel f?
Wi th what scourges of rebuke di d I not l ash my soul to make i t fol l ow me, as I was
struggl i ng to go after thee? Yet i t drew back. I t refused. I t woul d not make an effort.
Al l i ts arguments were exhausted and confuted. Yet i t resi sted i n sul l en di squi et,
feari ng the cutti ng off of that habi t by whi ch i t was bei ng wasted to death, as i f that
were death i tsel f.
CHAPTER VI I I
19. Then, as thi s vehement quarrel , whi ch I waged wi th my soul i n the
chamber of my heart, was ragi ng i nsi de my i nner dwel l i ng, agi tated both i n mi nd
and countenance, I sei zed upon Al ypi us and excl ai med: What i s the matter wi th
us? What i s thi s? What di d you hear? The uni nstructed start up and take heaven,
and we--wi th al l our l earni ng but so l i ttl e heart--see where we wal l ow i n fl esh and
bl ood! Because others have gone before us, are we ashamed to fol l ow, and not rather
ashamed at our not fol l owi ng? I scarcel y knew what I sai d, and i n my exci tement I
fl ung away from hi m, whi l e he gazed at me i n si l ent astoni shment. For I di d not
sound l i ke mysel f: my face, eyes, col or, tone expressed my meani ng more cl earl y
than my words.
There was a l i ttl e garden bel ongi ng to our l odgi ng, of whi ch we had the use--
as of the whol e house--for the master, our l andl ord, di d not l i ve there. The tempest
i n my breast hurri ed me out i nto thi s garden, where no one mi ght i nterrupt the
fi ery struggl e i n whi ch I was engaged wi th mysel f, unti l i t came to the outcome that
thou knewest though I di d not. But I was mad for heal th, and dyi ng for l i fe;
knowi ng what evi l thi ng I was, but not knowi ng what good thi ng I was so shortl y to
become.
I fl ed i nto the garden, wi th Al ypi us fol l owi ng step by step; for I had no secret
i n whi ch he di d not share, and how coul d he l eave me i n such di stress? We sat
down, as far from the house as possi bl e. I was greatl y di sturbed i n spi ri t, angry at
mysel f wi th a turbul ent i ndi gnati on because I had not entered thy wi l l and
covenant, O my God, whi l e al l my bones cri ed out to me to enter, extol l i ng i t to the
ski es. The way therei n i s not by shi ps or chari ots or feet--i ndeed i t was not as far as
I had come from the house to the pl ace where we were seated. For to go al ong that
road and i ndeed to reach the goal i s nothi ng el se but the wi l l to go. But i t must be a
strong and si ngl e wi l l , not staggeri ng and swayi ng about thi s way and that--a
changeabl e, twi sti ng, fl uctuati ng wi l l , wrestl i ng wi th i tsel f whi l e one part fal l s as
another ri ses.
20. Fi nal l y, i n the very fever of my i ndeci si on, I made many moti ons wi th my
body; l i ke men do when they wi l l to act but cannot, ei ther because they do not have
the l i mbs or because thei r l i mbs are bound or weakened by di sease, or i ncapaci tated
i n some other way. Thus i f I tore my hai r, struck my forehead, or, entwi ni ng my
fi ngers, cl asped my knee, these I di d because I wi l l ed i t. But I mi ght have wi l l ed i t
and sti l l not have done i t, i f the nerves had not obeyed my wi l l . Many thi ngs then I
di d, i n whi ch the wi l l and power to do were not the same. Yet I di d not do that one
thi ng whi ch seemed to me i nfi ni tel y more desi rabl e, whi ch before l ong I shoul d have
power to wi l l because shortl y when I wi l l ed, I woul d wi l l wi th a si ngl e wi l l . For i n
thi s, the power of wi l l i ng i s the power of doi ng; and as yet I coul d not do i t. Thus my
body more readi l y obeyed the sl i ghtest wi sh of the soul i n movi ng i ts l i mbs at the
order of my mi nd than my soul obeyed i tsel f to accompl i sh i n the wi l l al one i ts great
resol ve.
CHAPTER I X
21. How can there be such a strange anomal y? And why i s i t? Let thy mercy
shi ne on me, that I may i nqui re and fi nd an answer, ami d the dark l abyri nth of
human puni shment and i n the darkest contri ti ons of the sons of Adam. Whence
such an anomal y? And why shoul d i t be? The mi nd commands the body, and the
body obeys. The mi nd commands i tsel f and i s resi sted. The mi nd commands the
hand to be moved and there i s such readi ness that the command i s scarcel y
di sti ngui shed from the obedi ence i n act. Yet the mi nd i s mi nd, and the hand i s body.
The mi nd commands the mi nd to wi l l , and yet though i t be i tsel f i t does not obey
i tsel f. Whence thi s strange anomal y and why shoul d i t be? I repeat: The wi l l
commands i tsel f to wi l l , and coul d not gi ve the command unl ess i t wi l l s; yet what i s
commanded i s not done. But actual l y the wi l l does not wi l l enti rel y; therefore i t does
not command enti rel y. For as far as i t wi l l s, i t commands. And as far as i t does not
wi l l , the thi ng commanded i s not done. For the wi l l commands that there be an act
of wi l l --not another, but i tsel f. But i t does not command enti rel y. Therefore, what i s
commanded does not happen; for i f the wi l l were whol e and enti re, i t woul d not even
command i t to be, because i t woul d al ready be. I t i s, therefore, no strange anomal y
partl y to wi l l and partl y to be unwi l l i ng. Thi s i s actual l y an i nfi rmi ty of mi nd, whi ch
cannot whol l y ri se, whi l e pressed down by habi t, even though i t i s supported by the
truth. And so there are two wi l l s, because one of them i s not whol e, and what i s
present i n thi s one i s l acki ng i n the other.
CHAPTER X
22. Let them peri sh from thy presence, O God, as vai n tal kers, and decei vers
of the soul peri sh, who, when they observe that there are two wi l l s i n the act of
del i berati on, go on to affi rm that there are two ki nds of mi nds i n us: one good, the
other evi l . They are i ndeed themsel ves evi l when they hol d these evi l opi ni ons--and
they shal l become good onl y when they come to hol d the truth and consent to the
truth that thy apostl e may say to them: You were formerl y i n darkness, but now
are you i n the l i ght i n the Lord.
257
But they desi red to be l i ght, not i n the Lord,
but i n themsel ves. They concei ved the nature of the soul to be the same as what God
i s, and thus have become a thi cker darkness than they were; for i n thei r dread
arrogance they have gone farther away from thee, from thee the true Li ght, that
l i ghts every man that comes i nto the worl d. Mark what you say and bl ush for
shame; draw near to hi m and be enl i ghtened, and your faces shal l not be
ashamed.
258
Whi l e I was del i berati ng whether I woul d serve the Lord my God now, as I
had l ong purposed to do, i t was I who wi l l ed and i t was al so I who was unwi l l i ng. I n
ei ther case, i t was I . I nei ther wi l l ed wi th my whol e wi l l nor was I whol l y unwi l l i ng.
And so I was at war wi th mysel f and torn apart by mysel f. And thi s stri fe was
agai nst my wi l l ; yet i t di d not show the presence of another mi nd, but the
puni shment of my own. Thus i t was no more I who di d i t, but the si n that dwel t i n
me--the puni shment of a si n freel y commi tted by Adam, and I was a son of Adam.
23. For i f there are as many opposi ng natures as there are opposi ng wi l l s,
there wi l l not be two but many more. I f any man i s tryi ng to deci de whether he
shoul d go to thei r conventi cl e or to the theater, the Mani cheans at once cry out,
See, here are two natures--one good, drawi ng thi s way, another bad, drawi ng back
that way; for how el se can you expl ai n thi s i ndeci si on between confl i cti ng wi l l s?
But I repl y that both i mpul ses are bad--that whi ch draws to them and that whi ch
draws back to the theater. But they do not bel i eve that the wi l l whi ch draws to them
can be anythi ng but good. Suppose, then, that one of us shoul d try to deci de, and
through the confl i ct of hi s two wi l l s shoul d waver whether he shoul d go to the
theater or to our Church. Woul d not those al so waver about the answer here? For
ei ther they must confess, whi ch they are unwi l l i ng to do, that the wi l l that l eads to
our church i s as good as that whi ch carri es thei r own adherents and those
capti vated by thei r mysteri es; or el se they must i magi ne that there are two evi l
natures and two evi l mi nds i n one man, both at war wi th each other, and then i t
wi l l not be true what they say, that there i s one good and another bad. El se they
must be converted to the truth, and no l onger deny that when anyone del i berates
there i s one soul fl uctuati ng between confl i cti ng wi l l s.
24. Let them no l onger mai ntai n that when they percei ve two wi l l s to be
contendi ng wi th each other i n the same man the contest i s between two opposi ng
mi nds, of two opposi ng substances, from two opposi ng pri nci pl es, the one good and
the other bad. Thus, O true God, thou dost reprove and confute and convi ct them.
For both wi l l s may be bad: as when a man tri es to deci de whether he shoul d ki l l a
man by poi son or by the sword; whether he shoul d take possessi on of thi s fi el d or
that one bel ongi ng to someone el se, when he cannot get both; whether he shoul d
squander hi s money to buy pl easure or hol d onto hi s money through the moti ve of
covetousness; whether he shoul d go to the ci rcus or to the theater, i f both are open
on the same day; or, whether he shoul d take a thi rd course, open at the same ti me,
and rob another mans house; or, a fourth opti on, whether he shoul d commi t
adul tery, i f he has the opportuni ty--al l these thi ngs concurri ng i n the same space of
ti me and al l bei ng equal l y l onged for, al though i mpossi bl e to do at one ti me. For the
mi nd i s pul l ed four ways by four antagoni sti c wi l l s--or even more, i n vi ew of the vast
range of human desi res--but even the Mani cheans do not affi rm that there are these
many di fferent substances. The same pri nci pl e appl i es as i n the acti on of good wi l l s.
For I ask them, I s i t a good thi ng to have del i ght i n readi ng the apostl e, or i s i t a
good thi ng to del i ght i n a sober psal m, or i s i t a good thi ng to di scourse on the
257
Eph. 5:8.
258
Cf. Ps. 34:5.
gospel ? To each of these, they wi l l answer, I t i s good. But what, then, i f al l del i ght
us equal l y and al l at the same ti me? Do not di fferent wi l l s di stract the mi nd when a
man i s tryi ng to deci de what he shoul d choose? Yet they are al l good, and are at
vari ance wi th each other unti l one i s chosen. When thi s i s done the whol e uni ted
wi l l may go forward on a si ngl e track i nstead of remai ni ng as i t was before, di vi ded
i n many ways. So al so, when eterni ty attracts us from above, and the pl easure of
earthl y del i ght pul l s us down from bel ow, the soul does not wi l l ei ther the one or the
other wi th al l i ts force, but sti l l i t i s the same soul that does not wi l l thi s or that
wi th a uni ted wi l l , and i s therefore pul l ed apart wi th gri evous perpl exi ti es, because
for truths sake i t prefers thi s, but for customs sake i t does not l ay that asi de.
CHAPTER XI
25. Thus I was si ck and tormented, reproachi ng mysel f more bi tterl y than
ever, rol l i ng and wri thi ng i n my chai n ti l l i t shoul d be utterl y broken. By now I was
hel d but sl i ghtl y, but sti l l was hel d. And thou, O Lord, di dst press upon me i n my
i nmost heart wi th a severe mercy, redoubl i ng the l ashes of fear and shame; l est I
shoul d agai n gi ve way and that same sl ender remai ni ng ti e not be broken off, but
recover strength and enchai n me yet more securel y.
I kept sayi ng to mysel f, See, l et i t be done now; l et i t be done now. And as I
sai d thi s I al l but came to a fi rm deci si on. I al l but di d i t--yet I di d not qui te. Sti l l I
di d not fal l back to my ol d condi ti on, but stood asi de for a moment and drew breath.
And I tri ed agai n, and l acked onl y a very l i ttl e of reachi ng the resol ve--and then
somewhat l ess, and then al l but touched and grasped i t. Yet I sti l l di d not qui te
reach or touch or grasp the goal , because I hesi tated to di e to death and to l i ve to
l i fe. And the worse way, to whi ch I was habi tuated, was stronger i n me than the
better, whi ch I had not tri ed. And up to the very moment i n whi ch I was to become
another man, the nearer the moment approached, the greater horror di d i t stri ke i n
me. But i t di d not stri ke me back, nor turn me asi de, but hel d me i n suspense.
26. I t was, i n fact, my ol d mi stresses, tri fl es of tri fl es and vani ti es of vani ti es,
who sti l l enthral l ed me. They tugged at my fl eshl y garments and softl y whi spered:
Are you goi ng to part wi th us? And from that moment wi l l we never be wi th you
any more? And from that moment wi l l not thi s and that be forbi dden you forever?
What were they suggesti ng to me i n those words thi s or that? What i s i t they
suggested, O my God? Let thy mercy guard the soul of thy servant from the vi l eness
and the shame they di d suggest! And now I scarcel y heard them, for they were not
openl y showi ng themsel ves and opposi ng me face to face; but mutteri ng, as i t were,
behi nd my back; and furti vel y pl ucki ng at me as I was l eavi ng, tryi ng to make me
l ook back at them. Sti l l they del ayed me, so that I hesi tated to break l oose and
shake mysel f free of them and l eap over to the pl ace to whi ch I was bei ng cal l ed--for
unrul y habi t kept sayi ng to me, Do you thi nk you can l i ve wi thout them?
27. But now i t sai d thi s very fai ntl y; for i n the di recti on I had set my face, and
yet toward whi ch I sti l l trembl ed to go, the chaste di gni ty of conti nence appeared to
me--cheerful but not wanton, modestl y al l uri ng me to come and doubt nothi ng,
extendi ng her hol y hands, ful l of a mul ti tude of good exampl es--to recei ve and
embrace me. There were there so many young men and mai dens, a mul ti tude of
youth and every age, grave wi dows and anci ent vi rgi ns; and conti nence hersel f i n
thei r mi dst: not barren, but a frui tful mother of chi l dren--her joys--by thee, O Lord,
her husband. And she smi l ed on me wi th a chal l engi ng smi l e as i f to say: Can you
not do what these young men and mai dens can? Or can any of them do i t of
themsel ves, and not rather i n the Lord thei r God? The Lord thei r God gave me to
them. Why do you stand i n your own strength, and so stand not? Cast yoursel f on
hi m; fear not. He wi l l not fl i nch and you wi l l not fal l . Cast yoursel f on hi m wi thout
fear, for he wi l l recei ve and heal you. And I bl ushed vi ol entl y, for I sti l l heard the
mutteri ng of those tri fl es and hung suspended. Agai n she seemed to speak: Stop
your ears agai nst those uncl ean members of yours, that they may be morti fi ed. They
tel l you of del i ghts, but not accordi ng to the l aw of the Lord thy God. Thi s struggl e
ragi ng i n my heart was nothi ng but the contest of sel f agai nst sel f. And Al ypi us kept
cl ose besi de me, and awai ted i n si l ence the outcome of my extraordi nary agi tati on.
CHAPTER XI I
28. Now when deep refl ecti on had drawn up out of the secret depths of my
soul al l my mi sery and had heaped i t up before the si ght of my heart, there arose a
mi ghty storm, accompani ed by a mi ghty rai n of tears. That I mi ght gi ve way ful l y to
my tears and l amentati ons, I stol e away from Al ypi us, for i t seemed to me that
sol i tude was more appropri ate for the busi ness of weepi ng. I went far enough away
that I coul d feel that even hi s presence was no restrai nt upon me. Thi s was the way
I fel t at the ti me, and he real i zed i t. I suppose I had sai d somethi ng before I started
up and he noti ced that the sound of my voi ce was choked wi th weepi ng. And so he
stayed al one, where we had been si tti ng together, greatl y astoni shed. I fl ung mysel f
down under a fi g tree--how I know not--and gave free course to my tears. The
streams of my eyes gushed out an acceptabl e sacri fi ce to thee. And, not i ndeed i n
these words, but to thi s effect, I cri ed to thee: And thou, O Lord, how l ong? How
l ong, O Lord? Wi l t thou be angry forever? Oh, remember not agai nst us our former
i ni qui ti es.
259
For I fel t that I was sti l l enthral l ed by them. I sent up these sorrowful
cri es: How l ong, how l ong? Tomorrow and tomorrow? Why not now? Why not thi s
very hour make an end to my uncl eanness?
29. I was sayi ng these thi ngs and weepi ng i n the most bi tter contri ti on of my
heart, when suddenl y I heard the voi ce of a boy or a gi rl I know not whi ch--comi ng
from the nei ghbori ng house, chanti ng over and over agai n, Pi ck i t up, read i t; pi ck
i t up, read i t.
260
I mmedi atel y I ceased weepi ng and began most earnestl y to thi nk
whether i t was usual for chi l dren i n some ki nd of game to si ng such a song, but I
coul d not remember ever havi ng heard the l i ke. So, dammi ng the torrent of my
tears, I got to my feet, for I coul d not but thi nk that thi s was a di vi ne command to
open the Bi bl e and read the fi rst passage I shoul d l i ght upon. For I had heard
261
how Anthony, acci dental l y comi ng i nto church whi l e the gospel was bei ng read,
recei ved the admoni ti on as i f what was read had been addressed to hi m: Go and
sel l what you have and gi ve i t to the poor, and you shal l have treasure i n heaven;
and come and fol l ow me.
262
By such an oracl e he was forthwi th converted to thee.
So I qui ckl y returned to the bench where Al ypi us was si tti ng, for there I had
put down the apostl es book when I had l eft there. I snatched i t up, opened i t, and i n
si l ence read the paragraph on whi ch my eyes fi rst fel l : Not i n ri oti ng and
drunkenness, not i n chamberi ng and wantonness, not i n stri fe and envyi ng, but put
on the Lord Jesus Chri st, and make no provi si on for the fl esh to ful fi l l the l usts
thereof.
263
I wanted to read no further, nor di d I need to. For i nstantl y, as the
sentence ended, there was i nfused i n my heart somethi ng l i ke the l i ght of ful l
259
Cf. Ps. 6:3; 79:8.
260
Thi s i s the famous Tolle, lege; tolle, lege.
261
Doubtl ess from Ponti ci anus, i n thei r earl i er conversati on.
262
Matt. 19:21.
263
Rom. 13:13.
certai nty and al l the gl oom of doubt vani shed away.
264
30. Cl osi ng the book, then, and putti ng my fi nger or somethi ng el se for a
mark I began--now wi th a tranqui l countenance--to tel l i t al l to Al ypi us. And he i n
turn di scl osed to me what had been goi ng on i n hi msel f, of whi ch I knew nothi ng.
He asked to see what I had read. I showed hi m, and he l ooked on even further than
I had read. I had not known what fol l owed. But i ndeed i t was thi s, Hi m that i s
weak i n the fai th, recei ve.
265
Thi s he appl i ed to hi msel f, and tol d me so. By these
words of warni ng he was strengthened, and by exerci si ng hi s good resol uti on and
purpose--al l very much i n keepi ng wi th hi s character, i n whi ch, i n these respects, he
was al ways far di fferent from and better than I --he joi ned me i n ful l commi tment
wi thout any restl ess hesi tati on.
Then we went i n to my mother, and tol d her what happened, to her great joy.
We expl ai ned to her how i t had occurred--and she l eaped for joy tri umphant; and
she bl essed thee, who art abl e to do exceedi ngl y abundantl y above al l that we ask
or thi nk.
266
For she saw that thou hadst granted her far more than she had ever
asked for i n al l her pi ti ful and dol eful l amentati ons. For thou di dst so convert me to
thee that I sought nei ther a wi fe nor any other of thi s worl ds hopes, but set my feet
on that rul e of fai th whi ch so many years before thou hadst showed her i n her
dream about me. And so thou di dst turn her gri ef i nto gl adness more pl enti ful than
she had ventured to desi re, and dearer and purer than the desi re she used to
cheri sh of havi ng grandchi l dren of my fl esh.
264
Note the paral l el s here to the conversi on of Anthony and the agentes in rebus.
265
Rom. 14:1.
266
Eph. 3:20.
BOOK NI NE
The end of the autobiography. Augustine tells of his resigning from his professorship
and of the days at Cassiciacum in preparation for baptism. He is baptized together
with Adeodatus and Alypius. Shortly thereafter, they start back for Africa. Augustine
recalls the ecstasy he and his mother shared in Ostia and then reports her death and
burial and his grief. The book closes with a moving prayer for the souls of Monica,
Patricius, and all his fellow citizens of the heavenly J erusalem.
CHAPTER I
1. O Lord, I am thy servant; I am thy servant and the son of thy handmai d.
Thou hast l oosed my bonds. I wi l l offer to thee the sacri fi ce of thanksgi vi ng.
267
Let
my heart and my tongue prai se thee, and l et al l my bones say, Lord, who i s l i ke
unto thee? Let them say so, and answer thou me and say unto my soul , I am your
sal vati on.
Who am I , and what i s my nature? What evi l i s there not i n me and my
deeds; or i f not i n my deeds, my words; or i f not i n my words, my wi l l ? But thou, O
Lord, art good and merci ful , and thy ri ght hand di dst reach i nto the depth of my
death and di dst empty out the abyss of corrupti on from the bottom of my heart. And
thi s was the resul t: now I di d not wi l l to do what I wi l l ed, and began to wi l l to do
what thou di dst wi l l .
But where was my free wi l l duri ng al l those years and from what deep and
secret retreat was i t cal l ed forth i n a si ngl e moment, whereby I gave my neck to thy
easy yoke and my shoul ders to thy l i ght burden, O Chri st Jesus, my Strength
and my Redeemer? How sweet di d i t suddenl y become to me to be wi thout the
sweetness of tri fl es! And i t was now a joy to put away what I formerl y feared to l ose.
For thou di dst cast them away from me, O true and hi ghest Sweetness. Thou di dst
cast them away, and i n thei r pl ace thou di dst enter i n thysel f--sweeter than al l
pl easure, though not to fl esh and bl ood; bri ghter than al l l i ght, but more vei l ed than
al l mystery; more exal ted than al l honor, though not to them that are exal ted i n
thei r own eyes. Now was my soul free from the gnawi ng cares of seeki ng and
getti ng, of wal l owi ng i n the mi re and scratchi ng the i tch of l ust. And I prattl ed l i ke
a chi l d to thee, O Lord my God--my l i ght, my ri ches, and my sal vati on.
CHAPTER I I
2. And i t seemed ri ght to me, i n thy si ght, not to snatch my tongues servi ce
abruptl y out of the speech market, but to wi thdraw qui etl y, so that the young men
who were not concerned about thy l aw or thy peace, but wi th mendaci ous fol l i es and
forensi c stri fes, mi ght no l onger purchase from my mouth weapons for thei r frenzy.
Fortunatel y, there were onl y a few days before the vi ntage vacati on
268
; and I
determi ned to endure them, so that I mi ght resi gn i n due form and, now bought by
thee, return for sal e no more.
My pl an was known to thee, but, save for my own fri ends, i t was not known to
other men. For we had agreed that i t shoul d not be made publ i c; al though, i n our
ascent from the val l ey of tears and our si ngi ng of the song of degrees, thou hadst
gi ven us sharp arrows and hot burni ng coal s to stop that decei tful tongue whi ch
267
Ps. 116:16, 17.
268
An i mperi al hol i day season, from l ate August to the mi ddl e of October.
opposes under the gui se of good counsel , and devours what i t l oves as though i t were
food.
3. Thou hadst pi erced our heart wi th thy l ove, and we carri ed thy words, as i t
were, thrust through our vi tal s. The exampl es of thy servants whom thou hadst
changed from bl ack to shi ni ng whi te, and from death to l i fe, crowded i nto the bosom
of our thoughts and burned and consumed our sl uggi sh temper, that we mi ght not
toppl e back i nto the abyss. And they fi red us exceedi ngl y, so that every breath of the
decei tful tongue of our detractors mi ght fan the fl ame and not bl ow i t out.
Though thi s vow and purpose of ours shoul d fi nd those who woul d l oudl y
prai se i t--for the sake of thy name, whi ch thou hast sancti fi ed throughout the earth-
-i t neverthel ess l ooked l i ke a sel f-vaunti ng not to wai t unti l the vacati on ti me now
so near. For i f I had l eft such a publ i c offi ce ahead of ti me, and had made the break
i n the eye of the general publ i c, al l who took noti ce of thi s act of mi ne and observed
how near was the vi ntage ti me that I wi shed to anti ci pate woul d have tal ked about
me a great deal , as i f I were tryi ng to appear a great person. And what purpose
woul d i t serve that peopl e shoul d consi der and di spute about my conversi on so that
my good shoul d be evi l spoken of?
4. Furthermore, thi s same summer my l ungs had begun to be weak from too
much l i terary l abor. Breathi ng was di ffi cul t; the pai ns i n my chest showed that the
l ungs were affected and were soon fati gued by too l oud or prol onged speaki ng. Thi s
had at fi rst been a tri al to me, for i t woul d have compel l ed me al most of necessi ty to
l ay down that burden of teachi ng; or, i f I was to be cured and become strong agai n,
at l east to take a l eave for a whi l e. But as soon as the ful l desi re to be sti l l that I
mi ght know that thou art the Lord
269
arose and was confi rmed i n me, thou knowest,
my God, that I began to rejoi ce that I had thi s excuse ready--and not a fei gned one,
ei ther--whi ch mi ght somewhat temper the di spl easure of those who for thei r sons
freedom wi shed me never to have any freedom of my own.
Ful l of joy, then, I bore i t unti l my ti me ran out--i t was perhaps some twenty
days--yet i t was some strai n to go through wi th i t, for the greedi ness whi ch hel ped
to support the drudgery had gone, and I woul d have been overwhel med had not i ts
pl ace been taken by pati ence. Some of thy servants, my brethren, may say that I
si nned i n thi s, si nce havi ng once ful l y and from my heart enl i sted i n thy servi ce, I
permi tted mysel f to si t a si ngl e hour i n the chai r of fal sehood. I wi l l not di spute i t.
But hast thou not, O most merci ful Lord, pardoned and forgi ven thi s si n i n the hol y
water
270
al so, al ong wi th al l the others, horri bl e and deadl y as they were?
CHAPTER I I I
5. Verecundus was severel y di sturbed by thi s new happi ness of mi ne, si nce he
was sti l l fi rml y hel d by hi s bonds and saw that he woul d l ose my compani onshi p.
For he was not yet a Chri sti an, though hi s wi fe was; and, i ndeed, he was more
fi rml y enchai ned by her than by anythi ng el se, and hel d back from that journey on
whi ch we had set out. Furthermore, he decl ared he di d not wi sh to be a Chri sti an on
any terms except those that were i mpossi bl e. However, he i nvi ted us most
courteousl y to make use of hi s country house so l ong as we woul d stay there. O
Lord, thou wi l t recompense hi m for thi s i n the resurrecti on of the just,
271
seei ng
that thou hast al ready gi ven hi m the l ot of the ri ghteous.
272
For whi l e we were
269
Cf. Ps. 46:10.
270
Hi s subsequent bapti sm; see bel ow, Ch. VI .
271
Luke 14:14.
272
Ps. 125:3.
absent at Rome, he was overtaken wi th bodi l y si ckness, and duri ng i t he was made
a Chri sti an and departed thi s l i fe as one of the fai thful . Thus thou hadst mercy on
hi m, and not on hi m onl y, but on us as wel l ; l est, rememberi ng the exceedi ng
ki ndness of our fri end to us and not abl e to count hi m i n thy fl ock, we shoul d be
tortured wi th i ntol erabl e gri ef. Thanks be unto thee, our God; we are thi ne. Thy
exhortati ons, consol ati ons, and fai thful promi ses assure us that thou wi l t repay
Verecundus for that country house at Cassi ci acum--where we found rest i n thee
from the fever of the worl d--wi th the perpetual freshness of thy paradi se i n whi ch
thou hast forgi ven hi m hi s earthl y si ns, i n that mountai n fl owi ng wi th mi l k, that
frui tful mountai n--thy own.
6. Thus Verecundus was ful l of gri ef; but Nebri di us was joyous. For he was
not yet a Chri sti an, and had fal l en i nto the pi t of deadl y error, bel i evi ng that the
fl esh of thy Son, the Truth, was a phantom.
273
Yet he had come up out of that pi t
and now hel d the same bel i ef that we di d. And though he was not as yet i ni ti ated i n
any of the sacraments of thy Church, he was a most earnest i nqui rer after truth.
Not l ong after our conversi on and regenerati on by thy bapti sm, he al so became a
fai thful member of the Cathol i c Church, servi ng thee i n perfect chasti ty and
conti nence among hi s own peopl e i n Afri ca, and bri ngi ng hi s whol e househol d wi th
hi m to Chri sti ani ty. Then thou di dst rel ease hi m from the fl esh, and now he l i ves i n
Abrahams bosom. Whatever i s si gni fi ed by that term bosom, there l i ves my
Nebri di us, my sweet fri end, thy son by adopti on, O Lord, and not a freedman any
l onger. There he l i ves; for what other pl ace coul d there be for such a soul ? There he
l i ves i n that abode about whi ch he used to ask me so many questi ons--poor i gnorant
one that I was. Now he does not put hi s ear up to my mouth, but hi s spi ri tual mouth
to thy fountai n, and dri nks wi sdom as he desi res and as he i s abl e--happy wi thout
end. But I do not bel i eve that he i s so i nebri ated by that draught as to forget me;
si nce thou, O Lord, who art the draught, art mi ndful of us.
Thus, then, we were comforti ng the unhappy Verecundus--our fri endshi p
untouched--reconci l i ng hi m to our conversi on and exhorti ng hi m to a fai th fi t for hi s
condi ti on (that i s, to hi s bei ng marri ed). We tarri ed for Nebri di us to fol l ow us, si nce
he was so cl ose, and thi s he was just about to do when at l ast the i nteri m ended.
The days had seemed l ong and many because of my eagerness for l ei sure and l i berty
i n whi ch I mi ght si ng to thee from my i nmost part, My heart has sai d to thee, I
have sought thy face; thy face, O Lord, wi l l I seek.
274
CHAPTER I V
7. Fi nal l y the day came on whi ch I was actual l y to be rel i eved from the
professorshi p of rhetori c, from whi ch I had al ready been rel eased i n i ntenti on. And
i t was done. And thou di dst del i ver my tongue as thou hadst al ready del i vered my
heart; and I bl essed thee for i t wi th great joy, and reti red wi th my fri ends to the
vi l l a.
275
My books testi fy to what I got done there i n wri ti ng, whi ch was now
hopeful l y devoted to thy servi ce; though i n thi s pause i t was sti l l as i f I were
panti ng from my exerti ons i n the school of pri de.
276
These were the books i n whi ch I
273
The heresy of Doceti sm, one of the earl i est and most persi stent of al l Chri stol ogi cal errors.
274
Cf. Ps. 27:8.
275
The group i ncl uded Moni ca, Adeodatus (Augusti ne's fi fteen-year-ol d son), Navi gi us (Augusti ne's
brother), Rusti cus and Fasti di anus (rel ati ves), Al ypi us, Trygeti us, and Li centi us (former pupi l s).
276
A somewhat obl i que acknowl edgment of the fact that none of the Cassi ci acum di al ogues has any
di sti ncti ve or substanti al Chri sti an content. Thi s has often been poi nted to as evi dence that
Augusti ne's conversi on thus far had brought hi m no farther than to a ki nd of Chri sti an Pl atoni sm; cf.
P. Al fari c, L'volution intellectuelle de Saint Augustin (Pari s, 1918).
engaged i n di al ogue wi th my fri ends, and al so those i n sol i l oquy before thee
al one.
277
And there are my l etters to Nebri di us, who was sti l l absent.
278
When woul d there be enough ti me to recount al l thy great bl essi ngs whi ch
thou di dst bestow on us i n that ti me, especi al l y as I am hasteni ng on to sti l l greater
merci es? For my memory recal l s them to me and i t i s pl easant to confess them to
thee, O Lord: the i nward goads by whi ch thou di dst subdue me and how thou
broughtest me l ow, l evel i ng the mountai ns and hi l l s of my thoughts, strai ghteni ng
my crookedness, and smoothi ng my rough ways. And I remember by what means
thou al so di dst subdue Al ypi us, my hearts brother, to the name of thy onl y Son, our
Lord and Savi our Jesus Chri st--whi ch he at fi rst refused to have i nserted i n our
wri ti ngs. For at fi rst he preferred that they shoul d smel l of the cedars of the
school s
279
whi ch the Lord hath now broken down, rather than of the whol esome
herbs of the Church, hosti l e to serpents.
280
8. O my God, how di d I cry to thee when I read the psal ms of Davi d, those
hymns of fai th, those paeans of devoti on whi ch l eave no room for swel l i ng pri de! I
was sti l l a novi ce i n thy true l ove, a catechumen keepi ng hol i day at the vi l l a, wi th
Al ypi us, a catechumen l i ke mysel f. My mother was al so wi th us--i n womans garb,
but wi th a mans fai th, wi th the peaceful ness of age and the ful l ness of motherl y
l ove and Chri sti an pi ety. What cri es I used to send up to thee i n those songs, and
how I was enki ndl ed toward thee by them! I burned to si ng them i f possi bl e,
throughout the whol e worl d, agai nst the pri de of the human race. And yet, i ndeed,
they are sung throughout the whol e worl d, and none can hi de hi msel f from thy heat.
Wi th what strong and bi tter regret was I i ndi gnant at the Mani cheans! Yet I al so
pi ti ed them; for they were i gnorant of those sacraments, those medi ci nes
281
--and
raved i nsanel y agai nst the cure that mi ght have made them sane! I wi shed they
coul d have been somewhere cl ose by, and--wi thout my knowl edge--coul d have seen
my face and heard my words when, i n that ti me of l ei sure, I pored over the Fourth
Psal m. And I wi sh they coul d have seen how that psal m affected me.
282
When I
cal l ed upon thee, O God of my ri ghteousness, thou di dst hear me; thou di dst enl arge
me when I was i n di stress. Have mercy upon me and hear my prayer. I wi sh they
mi ght have heard what I sai d i n comment on those words--wi thout my knowi ng that
they heard, l est they shoul d thi nk that I was speaki ng i t just on thei r account. For,
i ndeed, I shoul d not have sai d qui te the same thi ngs, nor qui te i n the same way, i f I
had known that I was heard and seen by them. And i f I had so spoken, they woul d
not have meant the same thi ngs to them as they di d to me when I spoke by and for
mysel f before thee, out of the pri vate affecti ons of my soul .
9. By turns I trembl ed wi th fear and warmed wi th hope and rejoi ced i n thy
mercy, O Father. And al l these feel i ngs showed forth i n my eyes and voi ce when thy
good Spi ri t turned to us and sai d, O sons of men, how l ong wi l l you be sl ow of
heart, how l ong wi l l you l ove vani ty, and seek after fal sehood? For I had l oved
vani ty and sought after fal sehood. And thou, O Lord, had al ready magni fi ed thy
Hol y One, rai si ng hi m from the dead and setti ng hi m at thy ri ght hand, that thence
277
The di al ogues wri tten duri ng thi s stay at Cassi ci acum: Contra Academicos, De beata vita, De
ordine, Soliloquia. See, i n thi s seri es, Vol . VI , pp. 17-63, for an Engl i sh transl ati on of the Soliloquies.
278
Cf. Epistles I I and I I I .
279
A symbol i c reference to the "cedars of Lebanon"; cf. I sa. 2:12-14; Ps. 29:5.
280
There i s perhaps a remote connecti on here wi th Luke 10:18-20.
281
Ever si nce the ti me of I gnati us of Anti och who referred to the Euchari st as "the medi ci ne of
i mmortal i ty," thi s had been a popul ar metaphor to refer to the sacraments; cf. I gnati us, Ephesians
20:2.
282
Here fol l ows (8-11) a bri ef devoti onal commentary on Ps. 4.
he shoul d send forth from on hi gh hi s promi sed Paracl ete, the Spi ri t of Truth.
Al ready he had sent hi m, and I knew i t not. He had sent hi m because he was now
magni fi ed, ri si ng from the dead and ascendi ng i nto heaven. For ti l l then the Hol y
Spi ri t was not yet gi ven, because Jesus was not yet gl ori fi ed.
283
And the prophet
cri ed out: How l ong wi l l you be sl ow of heart? How l ong wi l l you l ove vani ty, and
seek after fal sehood? Know thi s, that the Lord hath magni fi ed hi s Hol y One. He
cri es, How l ong? He cri es, Know thi s, and I --so l ong l ovi ng vani ty, and seeki ng
after fal sehood--heard and trembl ed, because these words were spoken to such a
one as I remembered that I mysel f had been. For i n those phantoms whi ch I once
hel d for truth there was vani ty and fal sehood. And I spoke many thi ngs l oudl y and
earnestl y--i n the contri ti on of my memory--whi ch I wi sh they had heard, who sti l l
l ove vani ty and seek after fal sehood. Perhaps they woul d have been troubl ed, and
have vomi ted up thei r error, and thou woul dst have heard them when they cri ed to
thee; for by a real death i n the fl esh He di ed for us who now maketh i ntercessi on for
us wi th thee.
10. I read on further, Be angry, and si n not. And how deepl y was I touched,
O my God; for I had now l earned to be angry wi th mysel f for the thi ngs past, so that
i n the future I mi ght not si n. Yes, to be angry wi th good cause, for i t was not
another nature out of the race of darkness that had si nned for me--as they affi rm
who are not angry wi th themsel ves, and who store up for themsel ves di re wrath
agai nst the day of wrath and the revel ati on of thy ri ghteous judgment. Nor were the
good thi ngs I saw now outsi de me, nor were they to be seen wi th the eyes of fl esh i n
the l i ght of the earthl y sun. For they that have thei r joys from wi thout si nk easi l y
i nto empti ness and are spi l l ed out on those thi ngs that are vi si bl e and temporal ,
and i n thei r starvi ng thoughts they l i ck thei r very shadows. I f onl y they woul d grow
weary wi th thei r hunger and woul d say, Who wi l l show us any good? And we
woul d answer, and they woul d hear, O Lord, the l i ght of thy countenance shi nes
bri ght upon us. For we are not that Li ght that enl i ghtens every man, but we are
enl i ghtened by thee, so that we who were formerl y i n darkness may now be al i ght i n
thee. I f onl y they coul d behol d the i nner Li ght Eternal whi ch, now that I had tasted
i t, I gnashed my teeth because I coul d not show i t to them unl ess they brought me
thei r heart i n thei r eyes--thei r rovi ng eyes--and sai d, Who wi l l show us any good?
But even there, i n the i nner chamber of my soul --where I was angry wi th mysel f;
where I was i nwardl y pri cked, where I had offered my sacri fi ce, sl ayi ng my ol d man,
and hopi ng i n thee wi th the new resol ve of a new l i fe wi th my trust l ai d i n thee--
even there thou hadst begun to grow sweet to me and to put gl adness i n my heart.
And thus as I read al l thi s, I cri ed al oud and fel t i ts i nward meani ng. Nor di d I wi sh
to be i ncreased i n worl dl y goods whi ch are wasted by ti me, for now I possessed, i n
thy eternal si mpl i ci ty, other corn and wi ne and oi l .
11. And wi th a l oud cry from my heart, I read the fol l owi ng verse: Oh, i n
peace! Oh, i n the Sel fsame!
284
See how he says i t: I wi l l l ay me down and take my
rest.
285
For who shal l wi thstand us when the truth of thi s sayi ng that i s wri tten i s
made mani fest: Death i s swal l owed up i n vi ctory
286
? For surel y thou, who dost not
change, art the Sel fsame, and i n thee i s rest and obl i vi on to al l di stress. There i s
none other besi de thee, nor are we to toi l for those many thi ngs whi ch are not thee,
for onl y thou, O Lord, makest me to dwel l i n hope.
These thi ngs I read and was enki ndl ed--but sti l l I coul d not di scover what to
283
John 7:39.
284
I dipsum--the oneness and i mmutabi l i ty of God.
285
Cf. v. 9.
286
1 Cor. 15:54.
do wi th those deaf and dead Mani cheans to whom I mysel f had bel onged; for I had
been a bi tter and bl i nd revi l er agai nst these wri ti ngs, honeyed wi th the honey of
heaven and l umi nous wi th thy l i ght. And I was sorel y gri eved at these enemi es of
thi s Scri pture.
12. When shal l I cal l to mi nd al l that happened duri ng those hol i days? I have
not forgotten them; nor wi l l I be si l ent about the severi ty of thy scourge, and the
amazi ng qui ckness of thy mercy. Duri ng that ti me thou di dst torture me wi th a
toothache; and when i t had become so acute that I was not abl e to speak, i t came
i nto my heart to urge al l my fri ends who were present to pray for me to thee, the
God of al l heal th. And I wrote i t down on the tabl et and gave i t to them to read.
Presentl y, as we bowed our knees i n suppl i cati on, the pai n was gone. But what
pai n? How di d i t go? I confess that I was terri fi ed, O Lord my God, because from my
earl i est years I had never experi enced such pai n. And thy purposes were profoundl y
i mpressed upon me; and rejoi ci ng i n fai th, I prai sed thy name. But that fai th
al l owed me no rest i n respect of my past si ns, whi ch were not yet forgi ven me
through thy bapti sm.
CHAPTER V
13. Now that the vi ntage vacati on was ended, I gave noti ce to the ci ti zens of
Mi l an that they mi ght provi de thei r schol ars wi th another word-merchant. I gave as
my reasons my determi nati on to serve thee and al so my i nsuffi ci ency for the task,
because of the di ffi cul ty i n breathi ng and the pai n i n my chest.
And by l etters I noti fi ed thy bi shop, the hol y man Ambrose, of my former
errors and my present resol uti on. And I asked hi s advi ce as to whi ch of thy books i t
was best for me to read so that I mi ght be the more ready and fi t for the recepti on of
so great a grace. He recommended I sai ah the prophet; and I bel i eve i t was because
I sai ah foreshows more cl earl y than others the gospel , and the cal l i ng of the
Genti l es. But because I coul d not understand the fi rst part and because I i magi ned
the rest to be l i ke i t, I l ai d i t asi de wi th the i ntenti on of taki ng i t up agai n l ater,
when better practi ced i n our Lords words.
CHAPTER VI
14. When the ti me arri ved for me to gi ve i n my name, we l eft the country and
returned to Mi l an. Al ypi us al so resol ved to be born agai n i n thee at the same ti me.
He was al ready cl othed wi th the humi l i ty that befi ts thy sacraments, and was so
brave a tamer of hi s body that he woul d wal k the frozen I tal i an soi l wi th hi s naked
feet, whi ch cal l ed for unusual forti tude. We took wi th us the boy Adeodatus, my son
after the fl esh, the offspri ng of my si n. Thou hadst made of hi m a nobl e l ad. He was
barel y fi fteen years ol d, but hi s i ntel l i gence excel l ed that of many grave and l earned
men. I confess to thee thy gi fts, O Lord my God, creator of al l , who hast power to
reform our deformi ti es--for there was nothi ng of me i n that boy but the si n. For i t
was thou who di dst i nspi re us to foster hi m i n thy di sci pl i ne, and none other--thy
gi fts I confess to thee. There i s a book of mi ne, enti tl ed De Magistro.
287
I t i s a
di al ogue between Adeodatus and me, and thou knowest that al l thi ngs there put
i nto the mouth of my i nterl ocutor are hi s, though he was then onl y i n hi s si xteenth
year. Many other gi fts even more wonderful I found i n hi m. Hi s tal ent was a source
of awe to me. And who but thou coul dst be the worker of such marvel s? And thou
di dst qui ckl y remove hi s l i fe from the earth, and even now I recal l hi m to mi nd wi th
287
Concerning the Teacher; cf. Vol . VI of thi s seri es, pp. 64-101.
a sense of securi ty, because I fear nothi ng for hi s chi l dhood or youth, nor for hi s
whol e career. We took hi m for our compani on, as i f he were the same age i n grace
wi th oursel ves, to be trai ned wi th oursel ves i n thy di sci pl i ne. And so we were
bapti zed and the anxi ety about our past l i fe l eft us.
Nor di d I ever have enough i n those days of the wondrous sweetness of
medi tati ng on the depth of thy counsel s concerni ng the sal vati on of the human race.
How freel y di d I weep i n thy hymns and canti cl es; how deepl y was I moved by the
voi ces of thy sweet-speaki ng Church! The voi ces fl owed i nto my ears; and the truth
was poured forth i nto my heart, where the ti de of my devoti on overfl owed, and my
tears ran down, and I was happy i n al l these thi ngs.
CHAPTER VI I
15. The church of Mi l an had onl y recentl y begun to empl oy thi s mode of
consol ati on and exal tati on wi th al l the brethren si ngi ng together wi th great
earnestness of voi ce and heart. For i t was onl y about a year--not much more--si nce
Justi na, the mother of the boy-emperor Val enti ni an, had persecuted thy servant
Ambrose on behal f of her heresy, i n whi ch she had been seduced by the Ari ans. The
devoted peopl e kept guard i n the church, prepared to di e wi th thei r bi shop, thy
servant. Among them my mother, thy handmai d, taki ng a l eadi ng part i n those
anxi eti es and vi gi l s, l i ved there i n prayer. And even though we were sti l l not whol l y
mel ted by the heat of thy Spi ri t, we were neverthel ess exci ted by the al armed and
di sturbed ci ty.
Thi s was the ti me that the custom began, after the manner of the Eastern
Church, that hymns and psal ms shoul d be sung, so that the peopl e woul d not be
worn out wi th the tedi um of l amentati on. Thi s custom, retai ned from then ti l l now,
has been i mi tated by many, i ndeed, by al most al l thy congregati ons throughout the
rest of the worl d.
288
16. Then by a vi si on thou madest known to thy renowned bi shop the spot
where l ay the bodi es of Gervasi us and Protasi us, the martyrs, whom thou hadst
preserved uncorrupted for so many years i n thy secret storehouse, so that thou
mi ghtest produce them at a fi t ti me to check a womans fury--a woman i ndeed, but
al so a queen! When they were di scovered and dug up and brought wi th due honor to
the basi l i ca of Ambrose, as they were borne al ong the road many who were troubl ed
by uncl ean spi ri ts--the devi l s confessi ng themsel ves--were heal ed. And there was
al so a certai n man, a wel l -known ci ti zen of the ci ty, bl i nd many years, who, when he
had asked and l earned the reason for the peopl es tumul tuous joy, rushed out and
begged hi s gui de to l ead hi m to the pl ace. When he arri ved there, he begged to be
permi tted to touch wi th hi s handkerchi ef the bi er of thy sai nts, whose death i s
preci ous i n thy si ght. When he had done thi s, and put i t to hi s eyes, they were
i mmedi atel y opened. The fame of al l thi s spread abroad; from thi s thy gl ory shone
more bri ghtl y. And al so from thi s the mi nd of that angry woman, though not
enl arged to the sani ty of a ful l fai th, was neverthel ess restrai ned from the fury of
persecuti on.
Thanks to thee, O my God. Whence and whi ther hast thou l ed my memory,
that I shoul d confess such thi ngs as these to thee--for great as they were, I had
forgetful l y passed them over? And yet at that ti me, when the sweet savor of thy
oi ntment was so fragrant, I di d not run after thee.
289
Therefore, I wept more bi tterl y
288
Thi s was apparentl y the fi rst i ntroducti on i nto the West of anti phonal chanti ng, whi ch was
al ready wi despread i n the East. Ambrose brought i t i n; Gregory brought i t to perfecti on.
289
Cf. S. of Sol . 1:3, 4.
as I l i stened to thy hymns, havi ng so l ong panted after thee. And now at l ength I
coul d breathe as much as the space al l ows i n thi s our straw house.
290
CHAPTER VI I I
17. Thou, O Lord, who makest men of one mi nd to dwel l i n a si ngl e house,
al so broughtest Evodi us to joi n our company. He was a young man of our ci ty, who,
whi l e servi ng as a secret servi ce agent, was converted to thee and bapti zed before
us. He had rel i nqui shed hi s secul ar servi ce, and prepared hi msel f for thi ne. We
were together, and we were resol ved to l i ve together i n our devout purpose.
We cast about for some pl ace where we mi ght be most useful i n our servi ce to
thee, and had pl anned on goi ng back together to Afri ca. And when we had got as far
as Osti a on the Ti ber, my mother di ed.
I am passi ng over many thi ngs, for I must hasten. Recei ve, O my God, my
confessi ons and thanksgi vi ng for the unnumbered thi ngs about whi ch I am si l ent.
But I wi l l not omi t anythi ng my mi nd has brought back concerni ng thy handmai d
who brought me forth--i n her fl esh, that I mi ght be born i nto thi s worl ds l i ght, and
i n her heart, that I mi ght be born to l i fe eternal . I wi l l not speak of her gi fts, but of
thy gi ft i n her; for she nei ther made hersel f nor trai ned hersel f. Thou di dst create
her, and nei ther her father nor her mother knew what ki nd of bei ng was to come
forth from them. And i t was the rod of thy Chri st, the di sci pl i ne of thy onl y Son,
that trai ned her i n thy fear, i n the house of one of thy fai thful ones who was a sound
member of thy Church. Yet my mother di d not attri bute thi s good trai ni ng of hers as
much to the di l i gence of her own mother as to that of a certai n el derl y mai dservant
who had nursed her father, carryi ng hi m around on her back, as bi g gi rl s carri ed
babi es. Because of her l ong-ti me servi ce and al so because of her extreme age and
excel l ent character, she was much respected by the heads of that Chri sti an
househol d. The care of her masters daughters was al so commi tted to her, and she
performed her task wi th di l i gence. She was qui te earnest i n restrai ni ng them wi th a
hol y severi ty when necessary and i nstructi ng them wi th a sober sagaci ty. Thus,
except at meal ti mes at thei r parents tabl e--when they were fed very temperatel y--
she woul d not al l ow them to dri nk even water, however parched they were wi th
thi rst. I n thi s way she took precauti ons agai nst an evi l custom and added the
whol esome advi ce: You dri nk water now onl y because you dont control the wi ne;
but when you are marri ed and mi stresses of pantry and cel l ar, you may not care for
water, but the habi t of dri nki ng wi l l be fi xed. By such a method of i nstructi on, and
her authori ty, she restrai ned the l ongi ng of thei r tender age, and regul ated even the
thi rst of the gi rl s to such a decorous control that they no l onger wanted what they
ought not to have.
18. And yet, as thy handmai d rel ated to me, her son, there had stol en upon
her a l ove of wi ne. For, i n the ordi nary course of thi ngs, when her parents sent her
as a sober mai den to draw wi ne from the cask, she woul d hol d a cup under the tap;
and then, before she poured the wi ne i nto the bottl e, she woul d wet the ti ps of her
l i ps wi th a l i ttl e of i t, for more than thi s her taste refused. She di d not do thi s out of
any cravi ng for dri nk, but out of the overfl owi ng buoyancy of her ti me of l i fe, whi ch
bubbl es up wi th sporti veness and youthful spi ri ts, but i s usual l y borne down by the
gravi ty of the ol d fol ks. And so, addi ng dai l y a l i ttl e to that l i ttl e--for he that
contemns smal l thi ngs shal l fal l by a l i ttl e here and a l i ttl e there
291
--she sl i pped
i nto such a habi t as to dri nk off eagerl y her l i ttl e cup nearl y ful l of wi ne.
290
Cf. I sa. 40:6; 1 Peter 1:24: "Al l fl esh i s grass." See Bk. XI , Ch. I I , 3.
291
Eccl us. 19:1.
Where now was that wi se ol d woman and her stri ct prohi bi ti on? Coul d
anythi ng prevai l agai nst our secret di sease i f thy medi ci ne, O Lord, di d not watch
over us? Though father and mother and nurturers are absent, thou art present, who
dost create, who cal l est, and who al so workest some good for our sal vati on, through
those who are set over us. What di dst thou do at that ti me, O my God? How di dst
thou heal her? How di dst thou make her whol e? Di dst thou not bri ng forth from
another womans soul a hard and bi tter i nsul t, l i ke a surgeons kni fe from thy secret
store, and wi th one thrust drai n off al l that putrefacti on? For the sl ave gi rl who
used to accompany her to the cel l ar fel l to quarrel i ng wi th her l i ttl e mi stress, as i t
someti mes happened when she was al one wi th her, and cast i n her teeth thi s vi ce of
hers, al ong wi th a very bi tter i nsul t: cal l i ng her a drunkard. Stung by thi s taunt,
my mother saw her own vi l eness and i mmedi atel y condemned and renounced i t.
As the fl attery of fri ends corrupts, so often do the taunts of enemi es i nstruct.
Yet thou repayest them, not for the good thou workest through thei r means, but for
the mal i ce they i ntended. That angry sl ave gi rl wanted to i nfuri ate her young
mi stress, not to cure her; and that i s why she spoke up when they were al one. Or
perhaps i t was because thei r quarrel just happened to break out at that ti me and
pl ace; or perhaps she was afrai d of puni shment for havi ng tol d of i t so l ate.
But thou, O Lord, rul er of heaven and earth, who changest to thy purposes
the deepest fl oods and control s the turbul ent ti de of the ages, thou heal est one soul
by the unsoundness of another; so that no man, when he hears of such a happeni ng,
shoul d attri bute i t to hi s own power i f another person whom he wi shes to reform i s
reformed through a word of hi s.
CHAPTER I X
19. Thus modestl y and soberl y brought up, she was made subject to her
parents by thee, rather more than by her parents to thee. She arri ved at a
marri ageabl e age, and she was gi ven to a husband whom she served as her l ord.
And she busi ed hersel f to gai n hi m to thee, preachi ng thee to hi m by her behavi or,
i n whi ch thou madest her fai r and reverentl y ami abl e, and admi rabl e to her
husband. For she endured wi th pati ence hi s i nfi del i ty and never had any di ssensi on
wi th her husband on thi s account. For she wai ted for thy mercy upon hi m unti l , by
bel i evi ng i n thee, he mi ght become chaste.
Moreover, even though he was earnest i n fri endshi p, he was al so vi ol ent i n
anger; but she had l earned that an angry husband shoul d not be resi sted, ei ther i n
deed or i n word. But as soon as he had grown cal m and was tranqui l , and she saw a
fi tti ng moment, she woul d gi ve hi m a reason for her conduct, i f he had been exci ted
unreasonabl y. As a resul t, whi l e many matrons whose husbands were more gentl e
than hers bore the marks of bl ows on thei r di sfi gured faces, and woul d i n pri vate
tal k bl ame the behavi or of thei r husbands, she woul d bl ame thei r tongues,
admoni shi ng them seri ousl y--though i n a jesti ng manner--that from the hour they
heard what are cal l ed the matri moni al tabl ets read to them, they shoul d thi nk of
them as i nstruments by whi ch they were made servants. So, al ways bei ng mi ndful
of thei r condi ti on, they ought not to set themsel ves up i n opposi ti on to thei r l ords.
And, knowi ng what a furi ous, bad-tempered husband she endured, they marvel ed
that i t had never been rumored, nor was there any mark to show, that Patri ci us had
ever beaten hi s wi fe, or that there had been any domesti c stri fe between them, even
for a day. And when they asked her confi denti al l y the reason for thi s, she taught
them the rul e I have menti oned. Those who observed i t confi rmed the wi sdom of i t
and rejoi ced; those who di d not observe i t were bul l i ed and vexed.
20. Even her mother-i n-l aw, who was at fi rst prejudi ced agai nst her by the
whi speri ngs of mal i ci ous servants, she conquered by submi ssi on, perseveri ng i n i t
wi th pati ence and meekness; wi th the resul t that the mother-i n-l aw tol d her son of
the tal es of the meddl i ng servants whi ch had di sturbed the domesti c peace between
hersel f and her daughter-i n-l aw and begged hi m to puni sh them for i t. I n conformi ty
wi th hi s mothers wi sh, and i n the i nterest of fami l y di sci pl i ne to i nsure the future
harmony of i ts members, he had those servants beaten who were poi nted out by her
who had di scovered them; and she promi sed a si mi l ar reward to anyone el se who,
thi nki ng to pl ease her, shoul d say anythi ng evi l of her daughter-i n-l aw. After thi s
no one dared to do so, and they l i ved together wi th a wonderful sweetness of mutual
good wi l l .
21. Thi s other great gi ft thou al so di dst bestow, O my God, my Mercy, upon
that good handmai d of thi ne, i n whose womb thou di dst create me. I t was that
whenever she coul d she acted as a peacemaker between any di fferi ng and
di scordant spi ri ts, and when she heard very bi tter thi ngs on ei ther si de of a
controversy--the ki nd of bl oated and undi gested di scord whi ch often bel ches forth
bi tter words, when crude mal i ce i s breathed out by sharp tongues to a present
fri end agai nst an absent enemy--she woul d di scl ose nothi ng about the one to the
other except what mi ght serve toward thei r reconci l i ati on. Thi s mi ght seem a smal l
good to me i f I di d not know to my sorrow countl ess persons who, through the horri d
and far-spreadi ng i nfecti on of si n, not onl y repeat to enemi es mutual l y enraged
thi ngs sai d i n passi on agai nst each other, but al so add some thi ngs that were never
sai d at al l . I t ought not to be enough i n a trul y humane man merel y not to i nci te or
i ncrease the enmi ti es of men by evi l -speaki ng; he ought l i kewi se to endeavor by
ki nd words to exti ngui sh them. Such a one was she--and thou, her most i nti mate
i nstructor, di dst teach her i n the school of her heart.
22. Fi nal l y, her own husband, now toward the end of hi s earthl y exi stence,
she won over to thee. Henceforth, she had no cause to compl ai n of unfai thful ness i n
hi m, whi ch she had endured before he became one of the fai thful . She was al so the
servant of thy servants. Al l those who knew her greatl y prai sed, honored, and l oved
thee i n her because, through the wi tness of the frui ts of a hol y l i fe, they recogni zed
thee present i n her heart. For she had been the wi fe of one man,
292
had honored
her parents, had gui ded her house i n pi ety, was hi ghl y reputed for good works, and
brought up her chi l dren, travai l i ng i n l abor wi th them as often as she saw them
swervi ng from thee. Lastl y, to al l of us, O Lord--si nce of thy favor thou al l owest thy
servants to speak--to al l of us who l i ved together i n that associ ati on before her
death i n thee she devoted such care as she mi ght have i f she had been mother of us
al l ; she served us as i f she had been the daughter of us al l .
CHAPTER X
23. As the day now approached on whi ch she was to depart thi s l i fe--a day
whi ch thou knewest, but whi ch we di d not--i t happened (though I bel i eve i t was by
thy secret ways arranged) that she and I stood al one, l eani ng i n a certai n wi ndow
from whi ch the garden of the house we occupi ed at Osti a coul d be seen. Here i n thi s
pl ace, removed from the crowd, we were resti ng oursel ves for the voyage after the
fati gues of a l ong journey.
We were conversi ng al one very pl easantl y and forgetti ng those thi ngs whi ch
are past, and reachi ng forward toward those thi ngs whi ch are future.
293
We were
i n the present--and i n the presence of Truth (whi ch thou art)--di scussi ng together
292
1 Ti m. 5:9.
293
Phi l . 3:13.
what i s the nature of the eternal l i fe of the sai nts: whi ch eye has not seen, nor ear
heard, nei ther has entered i nto the heart of man.
294
We opened wi de the mouth of
our heart, thi rsti ng for those supernal streams of thy fountai n, the fountai n of l i fe
whi ch i s wi th thee,
295
that we mi ght be spri nkl ed wi th i ts waters accordi ng to our
capaci ty and mi ght i n some measure wei gh the truth of so profound a mystery.
24. And when our conversati on had brought us to the poi nt where the very
hi ghest of physi cal sense and the most i ntense i l l umi nati on of physi cal l i ght
seemed, i n compari son wi th the sweetness of that l i fe to come, not worthy of
compari son, nor even of menti on, we l i fted oursel ves wi th a more ardent l ove toward
the Sel fsame,
296
and we gradual l y passed through al l the l evel s of bodi l y objects,
and even through the heaven i tsel f, where the sun and moon and stars shi ne on the
earth. I ndeed, we soared hi gher yet by an i nner musi ng, speaki ng and marvel i ng at
thy works.
And we came at l ast to our own mi nds and went beyond them, that we mi ght
cl i mb as hi gh as that regi on of unfai l i ng pl enty where thou feedest I srael forever
wi th the food of truth, where l i fe i s that Wi sdom by whom al l thi ngs are made, both
whi ch have been and whi ch are to be. Wi sdom i s not made, but i s as she has been
and forever shal l be; for to have been and to be hereafter do not appl y to her, but
onl y to be, because she i s eternal and to have been and to be hereafter are not
eternal .
And whi l e we were thus speaki ng and strai ni ng after her, we just barel y
touched her wi th the whol e effort of our hearts. Then wi th a si gh, l eavi ng the fi rst
frui ts of the Spi ri t bound to that ecstasy, we returned to the sounds of our own
tongue, where the spoken word had both begi nni ng and end.
297
But what i s l i ke to
thy Word, our Lord, who remai neth i n hi msel f wi thout becomi ng ol d, and makes al l
thi ngs new
298
?
25. What we sai d went somethi ng l i ke thi s: I f to any man the tumul t of the
fl esh were si l enced; and the phantoms of earth and waters and ai r were si l enced;
and the pol es were si l ent as wel l ; i ndeed, i f the very soul grew si l ent to hersel f, and
went beyond hersel f by not thi nki ng of hersel f; i f fanci es and i magi nary revel ati ons
were si l enced; i f every tongue and every si gn and every transi ent thi ng--for actual l y
i f any man coul d hear them, al l these woul d say, We di d not create oursel ves, but
were created by Hi m who abi des forever--and i f, havi ng uttered thi s, they too
shoul d be si l ent, havi ng sti rred our ears to hear hi m who created them; and i f then
he al one spoke, not through them but by hi msel f, that we mi ght hear hi s word, not
i n fl eshl y tongue or angel i c voi ce, nor sound of thunder, nor the obscuri ty of a
parabl e, but mi ght hear hi m--hi m for whose sake we l ove these thi ngs--i f we coul d
hear hi m wi thout these, as we two now strai ned oursel ves to do, we then wi th rapi d
thought mi ght touch on that Eternal Wi sdom whi ch abi des over al l . And i f thi s
coul d be sustai ned, and other vi si ons of a far di fferent ki nd be taken away, and thi s
one shoul d so ravi sh and absorb and envel op i ts behol der i n these i nward joys that
hi s l i fe mi ght be eternal l y l i ke that one moment of knowl edge whi ch we now si ghed
after--woul d not this be the real i ty of the sayi ng, Enter i nto the joy of thy Lord
299
?
294
Cf. 1 Cor. 2:9.
295
Ps. 36:9.
296
I dipsum.
297
Cf. thi s report of a "Chri sti an ecstasy" wi th the Pl oti ni an ecstasy recounted i n Bk. VI I , Ch. XVI I ,
23, above.
298
Cf. Wi s. 7:21-30; see especi al l y v. 27: "And bei ng but one, she [Wi sdom] can do al l thi ngs: and
remai ni ng i n hersel f the same, she makes al l thi ngs new."
299
Matt. 25:21.
But when shal l such a thi ng be? Shal l i t not be when we al l shal l ri se agai n, and
shal l i t not be that al l thi ngs wi l l be changed
300
?
26. Such a thought I was expressi ng, and i f not i n thi s manner and i n these
words, sti l l , O Lord, thou knowest that on that day we were tal ki ng thus and that
thi s worl d, wi th al l i ts joys, seemed cheap to us even as we spoke. Then my mother
sai d: Son, for mysel f I have no l onger any pl easure i n anythi ng i n thi s l i fe. Now
that my hopes i n thi s worl d are sati sfi ed, I do not know what more I want here or
why I am here. There was i ndeed one thi ng for whi ch I wi shed to tarry a l i ttl e i n
thi s l i fe, and that was that I mi ght see you a Cathol i c Chri sti an before I di ed. My
God hath answered thi s more than abundantl y, so that I see you now made hi s
servant and spurni ng al l earthl y happi ness. What more am I to do here?
CHAPTER XI
27. I do not wel l remember what repl y I made to her about thi s. However, i t
was scarcel y fi ve days l ater--certai nl y not much more--that she was prostrated by
fever. Whi l e she was si ck, she fai nted one day and was for a short ti me qui te
unconsci ous. We hurri ed to her, and when she soon regai ned her senses, she l ooked
at me and my brother
301
as we stood by her, and sai d, i n i nqui ry, Where was I ?
Then l ooki ng i ntentl y at us, dumb i n our gri ef, she sai d, Here i n thi s pl ace shal l
you bury your mother. I was si l ent and hel d back my tears; but my brother sai d
somethi ng, wi shi ng her the happi er l ot of dyi ng i n her own country and not abroad.
When she heard thi s, she fi xed hi m wi th her eye and an anxi ous countenance,
because he savored of such earthl y concerns, and then gazi ng at me she sai d, See
how he speaks. Soon after, she sai d to us both: Lay thi s body anywhere, and do not
l et the care of i t be a troubl e to you at al l . Onl y thi s I ask: that you wi l l remember
me at the Lords al tar, wherever you are. And when she had expressed her wi sh i n
such words as she coul d, she fel l si l ent, i n heavy pai n wi th her i ncreasi ng si ckness.
28. But as I thought about thy gi fts, O i nvi si bl e God, whi ch thou pl antest i n
the heart of thy fai thful ones, from whi ch such marvel ous frui ts spri ng up, I rejoi ced
and gave thanks to thee, rememberi ng what I had known of how she had al ways
been much concerned about her buri al pl ace, whi ch she had provi ded and prepared
for hersel f by the body of her husband. For as they had l i ved very peaceful l y
together, her desi re had al ways been--so l i ttl e i s the human mi nd capabl e of
graspi ng thi ngs di vi ne--that thi s l ast shoul d be added to al l that happi ness, and
commented on by others: that, after her pi l gri mage beyond the sea, i t woul d be
granted her that the two of them, so uni ted on earth, shoul d l i e i n the same grave.
When thi s vani ty, through the bounty of thy goodness, had begun to be no
l onger i n her heart, I do not know; but I joyful l y marvel ed at what she had thus
di scl osed to me--though i ndeed i n our conversati on i n the wi ndow, when she sai d,
What i s there here for me to do any more? she appeared not to desi re to di e i n her
own country. I heard l ater on that, duri ng our stay i n Osti a, she had been tal ki ng i n
maternal confi dence to some of my fri ends about her contempt of thi s l i fe and the
bl essi ng of death. When they were amazed at the courage whi ch was gi ven her, a
woman, and had asked her whether she di d not dread havi ng her body buri ed so far
from her own ci ty, she repl i ed: Nothi ng i s far from God. I do not fear that, at the
end of ti me, he shoul d not know the pl ace whence he i s to resurrect me. And so on
the ni nth day of her si ckness, i n the fi fty-si xth year of her l i fe and the thi rty-thi rd of
300
1 Cor. 15:51.
301
Navi gi us, who had joi ned them i n Mi l an, but about whom Augusti ne i s curi ousl y si l ent save for
the bri ef and unreveal i ng references i n De beata vita, I , 6, to I I , 7, and De ordine, I , 2-3.
mi ne,
302
that rel i gi ous and devout soul was set l oose from the body.
CHAPTER XI I
29. I cl osed her eyes; and there fl owed i n a great sadness on my heart and i t
was passi ng i nto tears, when at the strong behest of my mi nd my eyes sucked back
the fountai n dry, and sorrow was i n me l i ke a convul si on. As soon as she breathed
her l ast, the boy Adeodatus burst out wai l i ng; but he was checked by us al l , and
became qui et. Li kewi se, my own chi l di sh feel i ng whi ch was, through the youthful
voi ce of my heart, seeki ng escape i n tears, was hel d back and si l enced. For we di d
not consi der i t fi tti ng to cel ebrate that death wi th tearful wai l s and groani ngs. Thi s
i s the way those who di e unhappy or are al together dead are usual l y mourned. But
she nei ther di ed unhappy nor di d she al together di e.
303
For of thi s we were assured
by the wi tness of her good l i fe, her fai th unfei gned,
304
and other mani fest
evi dence.
30. What was i t, then, that hurt me so gri evousl y i n my heart except the
newl y made wound, caused from havi ng the sweet and dear habi t of l i vi ng together
wi th her suddenl y broken? I was ful l of joy because of her testi mony i n her l ast
i l l ness, when she prai sed my duti ful attenti on and cal l ed me ki nd, and recal l ed wi th
great affecti on of l ove that she had never heard any harsh or reproachful sound
from my mouth agai nst her. But yet, O my God who made us, how can that honor I
pai d her be compared wi th her servi ce to me? I was then l eft desti tute of a great
comfort i n her, and my soul was stri cken; and that l i fe was torn apart, as i t were,
whi ch had been made but one out of hers and mi ne together.
305
31. When the boy was restrai ned from weepi ng, Evodi us took up the Psal ter
and began to si ng, wi th the whol e househol d respondi ng, the psal m, I wi l l si ng of
mercy and judgment unto thee, O Lord.
306
And when they heard what we were
doi ng, many of the brethren and rel i gi ous women came together. And whi l e those
whose offi ce i t was to prepare for the funeral went about thei r task accordi ng to
custom, I di scoursed i n another part of the house, wi th those who thought I shoul d
not be l eft al one, on what was appropri ate to the occasi on. By thi s bal m of truth, I
softened the angui sh known to thee. They were unconsci ous of i t and l i stened
i ntentl y and thought me free of any sense of sorrow. But i n thy ears, where none of
them heard, I reproached mysel f for the mi l dness of my feel i ngs, and restrai ned the
fl ow of my gri ef whi ch bowed a l i ttl e to my wi l l . The paroxysm returned agai n, and I
knew what I repressed i n my heart, even though i t di d not make me burst forth i nto
tears or even change my countenance; and I was greatl y annoyed that these human
thi ngs had such power over me, whi ch i n the due order and desti ny of our natural
condi ti on must of necessi ty happen. And so wi th a new sorrow I sorrowed for my
sorrow and was wasted wi th a twofol d sadness.
32. So, when the body was carri ed forth, we both went and returned wi thout
tears. For nei ther i n those prayers whi ch we poured forth to thee, when the sacri fi ce
of our redempti on was offered up to thee for her--wi th the body pl aced by the si de of
the grave as the custom i s there, before i t i s l owered down i nto i t--nei ther i n those
302
A.D. 387.
303
Nec omnino moriebatur. I s thi s an echo of Horace's famous memori al ode, Exegi monumentum
aere perennius . . . non omnis moriar? Cf. Odes, Book I I I , Ode XXX.
304
1 Ti m. 1:5.
305
Cf. thi s passage, as Augusti ne doubtl ess i ntended, wi th the story of hi s morbi d and i mmoderate
gri ef at the death of hi s boyhood fri end, above, Bk. I V, Chs. I V, 9, to VI I , 12.
306
Ps. 101:1.
prayers di d I weep. But I was most gri evousl y sad i n secret al l the day, and wi th a
troubl ed mi nd entreated thee, as I coul d, to heal my sorrow; but thou di dst not. I
now bel i eve that thou wast fi xi ng i n my memory, by thi s one l esson, the power of
the bonds of al l habi t, even on a mi nd whi ch now no l onger feeds upon decepti on. I t
then occurred to me that i t woul d be a good thi ng to go and bathe, for I had heard
that the word for bath [balneum] took i ts name from the Greek balaneion
[], because i t washes anxi ety from the mi nd. Now see, thi s al so I confess
to thy mercy, O Father of the fatherl ess
307
: I bathed and fel t the same as I had
done before. For the bi tterness of my gri ef was not sweated from my heart.
Then I sl ept, and when I awoke I found my gri ef not a l i ttl e assuaged. And as
I l ay there on my bed, those true verses of Ambrose came to my mi nd, for thou art
trul y,
Deus, creator omni um,
Pol i que rector, vesti ens
Di em decoro l umi ne,
Noctem sopora grati a;
Artus sol utos ut qui es
Reddat l abori s usui
Mentesque fessas al l evet,
Luctusque sol vat anxi os.
O God, Creator of us al l ,
Gui di ng the orbs cel esti al ,
Cl othi ng the day wi th l ovel y l i ght,
Appoi nti ng graci ous sl eep by ni ght:
Thy grace our weari ed l i mbs restore
To strengthened l abor, as before,
And ease the gri ef of ti red mi nds
From that deep torment whi ch i t fi nds.
308
33. And then, l i ttl e by l i ttl e, there came back to me my former memori es of
thy handmai d: her devout l i fe toward thee, her hol y tenderness and attenti veness
toward us, whi ch had suddenl y been taken away from me--and i t was a sol ace for
me to weep i n thy si ght, for her and for mysel f, about her and about mysel f. Thus I
set free the tears whi ch before I repressed, that they mi ght fl ow at wi l l , spreadi ng
them out as a pi l l ow beneath my heart. And i t rested on them, for thy ears were
near me--not those of a man, who woul d have made a scornful comment about my
weepi ng. But now i n wri ti ng I confess i t to thee, O Lord! Read i t who wi l l , and
comment how he wi l l , and i f he fi nds me to have si nned i n weepi ng for my mother
for part of an hour--that mother who was for a whi l e dead to my eyes, who had for
many years wept for me that I mi ght l i ve i n thy eyes--l et hi m not l augh at me; but i f
he be a man of generous l ove, l et hi m weep for my si ns agai nst thee, the Father of
al l the brethren of thy Chri st.
307
Ps. 68:5.
308
Si r Tobi e Matthew (adapted). For Augusti ne's own anal ysi s of the scansi on and structure of thi s
hymn, see De musica, VI , 2:2-3; for a bri ef commentary on the Lati n text, see A. S. Wal pol e, Early
Latin Hymns (Cambri dge, 1922), pp. 44-49.
CHAPTER XI I I
34. Now that my heart i s heal ed of that wound--so far as i t can be charged
agai nst me as a carnal affecti on--I pour out to thee, O our God, on behal f of thy
handmai d, tears of a very di fferent sort: those whi ch fl ow from a spi ri t broken by
the thoughts of the dangers of every soul that di es i n Adam. And whi l e she had been
made al i ve i n Chri st
309
even before she was freed from the fl esh, and had so l i ved
as to prai se thy name both by her fai th and by her l i fe, yet I woul d not dare say that
from the ti me thou di dst regenerate her by bapti sm no word came out of her mouth
agai nst thy precepts. But i t has been decl ared by thy Son, the Truth, that
whosoever shal l say to hi s brother, You fool , shal l be i n danger of hel l -fi re.
310
And
there woul d be doom even for the l i fe of a prai seworthy man i f thou judgedst i t wi th
thy mercy set asi de. But si nce thou dost not so stri ngentl y i nqui re after our si ns, we
hope wi th confi dence to fi nd some pl ace i n thy presence. But whoever recounts hi s
actual and true meri ts to thee, what i s he doi ng but recounti ng to thee thy own
gi fts? Oh, i f onl y men woul d know themsel ves as men, then he that gl ori es woul d
gl ory i n the Lord
311
!
35. Thus now, O my Prai se and my Li fe, O God of my heart, forgetti ng for a
l i ttl e her good deeds for whi ch I gi ve joyful thanks to thee, I now beseech thee for
the si ns of my mother. Hearken unto me, through that Medi ci ne of our wounds, who
di dst hang upon the tree and who si ttest at thy ri ght hand maki ng i ntercessi on for
us.
312
I know that she acted i n mercy, and from the heart forgave her debtors thei r
debts.
313
I beseech thee al so to forgi ve her debts, whatever she contracted duri ng so
many years si nce the water of sal vati on. Forgi ve her, O Lord, forgi ve her, I beseech
thee; enter not i nto judgment wi th her.
314
Let thy mercy be exal ted above thy
justi ce, for thy words are true and thou hast promi sed mercy to the merci ful , that
the merci ful shal l obtai n mercy.
315
Thi s i s thy gi ft, who hast mercy on whom thou
wi l t and who wi l t have compassi on on whom thou dost have compassi on on.
316
36. I ndeed, I bel i eve thou hast al ready done what I ask of thee, but accept
the freewi l l offeri ngs of my mouth, O Lord.
317
For when the day of her di ssol uti on
was so cl ose, she took no thought to have her body sumptuousl y wrapped or
embal med wi th spi ces. Nor di d she covet a handsome monument, or even care to be
buri ed i n her own country. About these thi ngs she gave no commands at al l , but
onl y desi red to have her name remembered at thy al tar, where she had served
wi thout the omi ssi on of a si ngl e day, and where she knew that the hol y sacri fi ce was
di spensed by whi ch that handwri ti ng that was agai nst us i s bl otted out; and that
enemy vanqui shed who, when he summed up our offenses and searched for
somethi ng to bri ng agai nst us, coul d fi nd nothi ng i n Hi m, i n whom we conquer.
Who wi l l restore to hi m the i nnocent bl ood? Who wi l l repay hi m the pri ce
wi th whi ch he bought us, so as to take us from hi m? Thus to the sacrament of our
redempti on di d thy hand mai d bi nd her soul by the bond of fai th. Let none separate
her from thy protecti on. Let not the l i on and dragon bar her way by force or
309
1 Cor. 15:22.
310
Matt. 5:22.
311
2 Cor. 10:17.
312
Rom. 8:34.
313
Cf. Matt. 6:12.
314
Ps. 143:2.
315
Matt. 5:7.
316
Cf. Rom. 9:15.
317
Ps. 119:108.
fraud. For she wi l l not repl y that she owes nothi ng, l est she be convi cted and duped
by that cunni ng decei ver. Rather, she wi l l answer that her si ns are forgi ven by Hi m
to whom no one i s abl e to repay the pri ce whi ch he, who owed us nothi ng, l ai d down
for us al l .
37. Therefore, l et her rest i n peace wi th her husband, before and after whom
she was marri ed to no other man; whom she obeyed wi th pati ence, bri ngi ng frui t to
thee that she mi ght al so wi n hi m for thee. And i nspi re, O my Lord my God, i nspi re
thy servants, my brothers; thy sons, my masters, who wi th voi ce and heart and
wri ti ngs I serve, that as many of them as shal l read these confessi ons may al so at
thy al tar remember Moni ca, thy handmai d, together wi th Patri ci us, once her
husband; by whose fl esh thou di dst bri ng me i nto thi s l i fe, i n a manner I know not.
May they wi th pi ous affecti on remember my parents i n thi s transi tory l i fe, and
remember my brothers under thee our Father i n our Cathol i c mother; and
remember my fel l ow ci ti zens i n the eternal Jerusal em, for whi ch thy peopl e si gh i n
thei r pi l gri mage from bi rth unti l thei r return. So be ful fi l l ed what my mother
desi red of me--more ri chl y i n the prayers of so many gai ned for her through these
confessi ons of mi ne than by my prayers al one.
BOOK TEN
From autobiography to self-analysis. Augustine turns from his memories of the past
to the inner mysteries of memory itself. I n doing so, he reviews his motives for these
written confessions, and seeks to chart the path by which men come to God. But
this brings him into the intricate analysis of memory and its relation to the self and
its powers. This done, he explores the meaning and mode of true prayer. I n
conclusion, he undertakes a detailed analysis of appetite and the temptations to
which the flesh and the soul are heirs, and comes finally to see how necessary and
right it was for the Mediator between God and man to have been the God-Man.
CHAPTER I
1. Let me know thee, O my Knower; l et me know thee even as I am known.
318
O Strength of my soul , enter i t and prepare i t for thysel f that thou mayest have and
hol d i t, wi thout spot or bl emi sh.
319
Thi s i s my hope, therefore have I spoken; and
i n thi s hope I rejoi ce whenever I rejoi ce ari ght. But as for the other thi ngs of thi s
l i fe, they deserve our l amentati ons l ess, the more we l ament them; and some shoul d
be l amented al l the more, the l ess men care for them. For see, Thou desi rest
truth
320
and he who does the truth comes to the l i ght.
321
Thi s i s what I wi sh to do
through confessi on i n my heart before thee, and i n my wri ti ngs before many
wi tnesses.
CHAPTER I I
2. And what i s there i n me that coul d be hi dden from thee, Lord, to whose
eyes the abysses of mans consci ence are naked, even i f I were unwi l l i ng to confess i t
to thee? I n doi ng so I woul d onl y hi de thee from mysel f, not mysel f from thee. But
now that my groani ng i s wi tness to the fact that I am di ssati sfi ed wi th mysel f, thou
shi nest forth and sati sfi est. Thou art bel oved and desi red; so that I bl ush for mysel f,
and renounce mysel f and choose thee, for I can nei ther pl ease thee nor mysel f except
i n thee. To thee, then, O Lord, I am l ai d bare, whatever I am, and I have al ready
sai d wi th what profi t I may confess to thee. I do not do i t wi th words and sounds of
the fl esh but wi th the words of the soul , and wi th the sound of my thoughts, whi ch
thy ear knows. For when I am wi cked, to confess to thee means nothi ng l ess than to
be di ssati sfi ed wi th mysel f; but when I am trul y devout, i t means nothi ng l ess than
not to attri bute my vi rtue to mysel f; because thou, O Lord, bl essest the ri ghteous,
but fi rst thou justi fi est hi m whi l e he i s yet ungodl y. My confessi on therefore, O my
God, i s made unto thee si l entl y i n thy si ght--and yet not si l entl y. As far as sound i s
concerned, i t i s si l ent. But i n strong affecti on i t cri es al oud. For nei ther do I gi ve
voi ce to somethi ng that sounds ri ght to men, whi ch thou hast not heard from me
before, nor dost thou hear anythi ng of the ki nd from me whi ch thou di dst not fi rst
say to me.
CHAPTER I I I
318
Cf. 1 Cor. 13:12.
319
Eph. 5:27.
320
Ps. 51:6.
321
John 3:21.
3. What i s i t to me that men shoul d hear my confessi ons as i f i t were they
who were goi ng to cure al l my i nfi rmi ti es? Peopl e are curi ous to know the l i ves of
others, but sl ow to correct thei r own. Why are they anxi ous to hear from me what I
am, when they are unwi l l i ng to hear from thee what they are? And how can they
tel l when they hear what I say about mysel f whether I speak the truth, si nce no
man knows what i s i n a man save the spi ri t of man whi ch i s i n hi m
322
? But i f they
were to hear from thee somethi ng concerni ng themsel ves, they woul d not be abl e to
say, The Lord i s l yi ng. For what does i t mean to hear from thee about themsel ves
but to know themsel ves? And who i s he that knows hi msel f and says, Thi s i s fal se,
unl ess he hi msel f i s l yi ng? But, because l ove bel i eves al l thi ngs
323
--at l east among
those who are bound together i n l ove by i ts bonds--I confess to thee, O Lord, so that
men may al so hear; for i f I cannot prove to them that I confess the truth, yet those
whose ears l ove opens to me wi l l bel i eve me.
4. But wi l t thou, O my i nner Physi ci an, make cl ear to me what profi t I am to
gai n i n doi ng thi s? For the confessi ons of my past si ns (whi ch thou hast forgi ven
and covered
324
that thou mi ghtest make me bl essed i n thee, transformi ng my soul
by fai th and thy sacrament), when they are read and heard, may sti r up the heart so
that i t wi l l stop dozi ng al ong i n despai r, sayi ng, I cannot; but wi l l i nstead awake
i n the l ove of thy mercy and the sweetness of thy grace, by whi ch he that i s weak i s
strong, provi ded he i s made consci ous of hi s own weakness. And i t wi l l pl ease those
who are good to hear about the past errors of those who are now freed from them.
And they wi l l take del i ght, not because they are errors, but because they were and
are so no l onger. What profi t, then, O Lord my God--to whom my consci ence makes
her dai l y confessi on, far more confi dent i n the hope of thy mercy than i n her own
i nnocence--what profi t i s there, I ask thee, i n confessi ng to men i n thy presence,
through thi s book, both what I am now as wel l as what I have been? For I have seen
and spoken of my harvest of thi ngs past. But what am I now, at thi s very moment of
maki ng my confessi ons? Many di fferent peopl e desi re to know, both those who know
me and those who do not know me. Some have heard about me or from me, but thei r
ear i s not cl ose to my heart, where I am whatever i t i s that I am. They have the
desi re to hear me confess what I am wi thi n, where they can nei ther extend eye nor
ear nor mi nd. They desi re as those wi l l i ng to bel i eve--but wi l l they understand? For
the l ove by whi ch they are good tel l s them that I am not l yi ng i n my confessi ons,
and the l ove i n them bel i eves me.
CHAPTER I V
5. But for what profi t do they desi re thi s? Wi l l they wi sh me happi ness when
they l earn how near I have approached thee, by thy gi fts? And wi l l they pray for me
when they l earn how much I am sti l l kept back by my own wei ght? To such as these
I wi l l decl are mysel f. For i t i s no smal l profi t, O Lord my God, that many peopl e
shoul d gi ve thanks to thee on my account and that many shoul d entreat thee for my
sake. Let the brotherl y soul l ove i n me what thou teachest hi m shoul d be l oved, and
l et hi m l ament i n me what thou teachest hi m shoul d be l amented. Let i t be the soul
of a brother that does thi s, and not a stranger--not one of those strange chi l dren,
whose mouth speaks vani ty, and whose ri ght hand i s the ri ght hand of
fal sehood.
325
But l et my brother do i t who, when he approves of me, rejoi ces for me,
322
1 Cor. 2:11.
323
1 Cor. 13:7.
324
Ps. 32:1.
325
Ps. 144:7, 8.
but when he di sapproves of me i s sorry for me; because whether he approves or
di sapproves, he l oves me. To such I wi l l decl are mysel f. Let them be refreshed by my
good deeds and si gh over my evi l ones. My good deeds are thy acts and thy gi fts; my
evi l ones are my own faul ts and thy judgment. Let them breathe expansi vel y at the
one and si gh over the other. And l et hymns and tears ascend i n thy si ght out of thei r
brotherl y hearts--whi ch are thy censers.
326
And, O Lord, who takest del i ght i n the
i ncense of thy hol y templ e, have mercy upon me accordi ng to thy great mercy, for
thy names sake. And do not, on any account whatever, abandon what thou hast
begun i n me. Go on, rather, to compl ete what i s yet i mperfect i n me.
6. Thi s, then, i s the frui t of my confessi ons (not of what I was, but of what I
am), that I may not confess thi s before thee al one, i n a secret exul tati on wi th
trembl i ng and a secret sorrow wi th hope, but al so i n the ears of the bel i evi ng sons of
men--who are the compani ons of my joy and sharers of my mortal i ty, my fel l ow
ci ti zens and fel l ow pi l gri ms--those who have gone before and those who are to fol l ow
after, as wel l as the comrades of my present way. These are thy servants, my
brothers, whom thou desi rest to be thy sons. They are my masters, whom thou hast
commanded me to serve i f I desi re to l i ve wi th and i n thee. But thi s thy Word woul d
mean l i ttl e to me i f i t commanded i n words al one, wi thout thy preveni ent acti on. I
do thi s, then, both i n act and word. I do thi s under thy wi ngs, i n a danger too great
to ri sk i f i t were not that under thy wi ngs my soul i s subject to thee, and my
weakness known to thee. I am i nsuffi ci ent, but my Father l i veth forever, and my
Defender i s suffi ci ent for me. For he i s the Sel fsame who di dst beget me and who
watcheth over me; thou art the Sel fsame who art al l my good. Thou art the
Omni potent, who art wi th me, even before I am wi th thee. To those, therefore,
whom thou commandest me to serve, I wi l l decl are, not what I was, but what I now
am and what I wi l l conti nue to be. But I do not judge mysel f. Thus, therefore, l et me
be heard.
CHAPTER V
7. For i t i s thou, O Lord, who judgest me. For al though no man knows the
thi ngs of a man, save the spi ri t of the man whi ch i s i n hi m,
327
yet there i s
somethi ng of man whi ch the spi ri t of the man whi ch i s i n hi m does not know i tsel f.
But thou, O Lord, who madest hi m, knowest hi m compl etel y. And even I --though i n
thy si ght I despi se mysel f and count mysel f but dust and ashes--even I know
somethi ng about thee whi ch I do not know about mysel f. And i t i s certai n that now
we see through a gl ass darkl y, not yet face to face.
328
Therefore, as l ong as I
journey away from thee, I am more present wi th mysel f than wi th thee. I know that
thou canst not suffer vi ol ence, but I mysel f do not know what temptati ons I can
resi st, and what I cannot. But there i s hope, because thou art fai thful and thou wi l t
not al l ow us to be tempted beyond our abi l i ty to resi st, but wi l t wi th the temptati on
al so make a way of escape that we may be abl e to bear i t. I woul d therefore confess
what I know about mysel f; I wi l l al so confess what I do not know about mysel f.
What I do know of mysel f, I know from thy enl i ghteni ng of me; and what I do not
know of mysel f, I wi l l conti nue not to know unti l the ti me when my darkness i s as
the noonday
329
i n thy si ght.
326
Cf. Rev. 8:3-5. "And the smoke of the i ncense wi th the prayers of the sai nts went up before God
out of the angel 's hand" (v. 4).
327
1 Cor. 2:11.
328
1 Cor. 13:12.
329
I sa. 58:10.
CHAPTER VI
8. I t i s not wi th a doubtful consci ousness, but one ful l y certai n that I l ove
thee, O Lord. Thou hast smi tten my heart wi th thy Word, and I have l oved thee.
And see al so the heaven, and earth, and al l that i s i n them--on every si de they tel l
me to l ove thee, and they do not cease to tel l thi s to al l men, so that they are
wi thout excuse.
330
Wherefore, sti l l more deepl y wi l t thou have mercy on whom thou
wi l t have mercy, and compassi on on whom thou wi l t have compassi on.
331
For
otherwi se, both heaven and earth woul d tel l abroad thy prai ses to deaf ears.
But what i s i t that I l ove i n l ovi ng thee? Not physi cal beauty, nor the
spl endor of ti me, nor the radi ance of the l i ght--so pl easant to our eyes--nor the sweet
mel odi es of the vari ous ki nds of songs, nor the fragrant smel l of fl owers and
oi ntments and spi ces; not manna and honey, not the l i mbs embraced i n physi cal
l ove--i t i s not these I l ove when I l ove my God. Yet i t i s true that I l ove a certai n
ki nd of l i ght and sound and fragrance and food and embrace i n l ovi ng my God, who
i s the l i ght and sound and fragrance and food and embracement of my i nner man--
where that l i ght shi nes i nto my soul whi ch no pl ace can contai n, where ti me does
not snatch away the l ovel y sound, where no breeze di sperses the sweet fragrance,
where no eati ng di mi ni shes the food there provi ded, and where there i s an embrace
that no sati ety comes to sunder. Thi s i s what I l ove when I l ove my God.
9. And what i s thi s God? I asked the earth, and i t answered, I am not he;
and everythi ng i n the earth made the same confessi on. I asked the sea and the
deeps and the creepi ng thi ngs, and they repl i ed, We are not your God; seek above
us. I asked the fl eeti ng wi nds, and the whol e ai r wi th i ts i nhabi tants answered,
Anaxi menes
332
was decei ved; I am not God. I asked the heavens, the sun, moon,
and stars; and they answered, Nei ther are we the God whom you seek. And I
repl i ed to al l these thi ngs whi ch stand around the door of my fl esh: You have tol d
me about my God, that you are not he. Tel l me somethi ng about hi m. And wi th a
l oud voi ce they al l cri ed out, He made us. My questi on had come from my
observati on of them, and thei r repl y came from thei r beauty of order. And I turned
my thoughts i nto mysel f and sai d, Who are you? And I answered, A man. For
see, there i s i n me both a body and a soul ; the one wi thout, the other wi thi n. I n
whi ch of these shoul d I have sought my God, whom I had al ready sought wi th my
body from earth to heaven, as far as I was abl e to send those messengers--the beams
of my eyes? But the i nner part i s the better part; for to i t, as both rul er and judge,
al l these messengers of the senses report the answers of heaven and earth and al l
the thi ngs therei n, who sai d, We are not God, but he made us. My i nner man knew
these thi ngs through the mi ni stry of the outer man, and I , the i nner man, knew al l
thi s--I , the soul , through the senses of my body.
333
I asked the whol e frame of earth
about my God, and i t answered, I am not he, but he made me.
10. I s not thi s beauty of form vi si bl e to al l whose senses are uni mpai red?
Why, then, does i t not say the same thi ngs to al l ? Ani mal s, both smal l and great, see
330
Rom. 1:20.
331
Cf. Rom. 9:15.
332
One of the pre-Socrati c "physi ol ogers" who taught that was the pri mary el ement i n
. Cf. Ci cero's On the Nature of the Gods (a l i kel y source for Augusti ne's knowl edge of earl y
Greek phi l osophy), I , 10: "After Anaxi mander comes Anaxi menes, who taught that the ai r i s God. . .
."
333
An i mportant text for Augusti ne's concepti on of sensati on and the rel ati on of body and mi nd. Cf.
On Music, VI , 5:10; The Magnitude of the Soul, 25:48; On the Trinity, XI I , 2:2; see al so F. Copl estone,
A History of Philosophy (London, 1950), I I , 51-60, and E. Gi l son, I ntroduction l'tude de Saint
Augustin, pp. 74-87.
i t but they are unabl e to i nterrogate i ts meani ng, because thei r senses are not
endowed wi th the reason that woul d enabl e them to judge the evi dence whi ch the
senses report. But man can i nterrogate i t, so that the i nvi si bl e thi ngs of hi m . . . are
cl earl y seen, bei ng understood by the thi ngs that are made.
334
But men l ove these
created thi ngs too much; they are brought i nto subjecti on to them--and, as subjects,
are not abl e to judge. None of these created thi ngs repl y to thei r questi oners unl ess
they can make rati onal judgments. The creatures wi l l not al ter thei r voi ce--that i s,
thei r beauty of form--i f one man si mpl y sees what another both sees and questi ons,
so that the worl d appears one way to thi s man and another to that. I t appears the
same way to both; but i t i s mute to thi s one and i t speaks to that one. I ndeed, i t
actual l y speaks to al l , but onl y they understand i t who compare the voi ce recei ved
from wi thout wi th the truth wi thi n. For the truth says to me, Nei ther heaven nor
earth nor anybody i s your God. Thei r very nature tel l s thi s to the one who
behol ds
335
them. They are a mass, l ess i n part than the whol e. Now, O my soul ,
you are my better part, and to you I speak; si nce you ani mate the whol e mass of
your body, gi vi ng i t l i fe, whereas no body furni shes l i fe to a body. But your God i s
the l i fe of your l i fe.
CHAPTER VI I
11. What i s i t, then, that I l ove when I l ove my God? Who i s he that i s beyond
the topmost poi nt of my soul ? Yet by thi s very soul wi l l I mount up to hi m. I wi l l
soar beyond that power of mi ne by whi ch I am uni ted to the body, and by whi ch the
whol e structure of i t i s fi l l ed wi th l i fe. Yet i t i s not by that vi tal power that I fi nd my
God. For then the horse and the mul e, that have no understandi ng,
336
al so mi ght
fi nd hi m, si nce they have the same vi tal power, by whi ch thei r bodi es al so l i ve. But
there i s, besi des the power by whi ch I ani mate my body, another by whi ch I endow
my fl esh wi th sense--a power that the Lord hath provi ded for me; commandi ng that
the eye i s not to hear and the ear i s not to see, but that I am to see by the eye and to
hear by the ear; and gi vi ng to each of the other senses i ts own proper pl ace and
functi on, through the di versi ty of whi ch I , the si ngl e mi nd, act. I wi l l soar al so
beyond thi s power of mi ne, for the horse and mul e have thi s too, for they al so
percei ve through thei r bodi l y senses.
CHAPTER VI I I
12. I wi l l soar, then, beyond thi s power of my nature al so, sti l l ri si ng by
degrees toward hi m who made me. And I enter the fi el ds and spaci ous hal l s of
memory, where are stored as treasures the countl ess i mages that have been brought
i nto them from al l manner of thi ngs by the senses. There, i n the memory, i s l i kewi se
stored what we cogi tate, ei ther by enl argi ng or reduci ng our percepti ons, or by
al teri ng one way or another those thi ngs whi ch the senses have made contact wi th;
and everythi ng el se that has been entrusted to i t and stored up i n i t, whi ch obl i vi on
has not yet swal l owed up and buri ed.
When I go i nto thi s storehouse, I ask that what I want shoul d be brought
forth. Some thi ngs appear i mmedi atel y, but others requi re to be searched for l onger,
and then dragged out, as i t were, from some hi dden recess. Other thi ngs hurry forth
i n crowds, on the other hand, and whi l e somethi ng el se i s sought and i nqui red for,
334
Rom. 1:20.
335
Readi ng videnti (wi th De Labri ol l e) i nstead of vident (as i n Skutel l a).
336
Ps. 32:9.
they l eap i nto vi ew as i f to say, I s i t not we, perhaps? These I brush away wi th the
hand of my heart from the face of my memory, unti l fi nal l y the thi ng I want makes
i ts appearance out of i ts secret cel l . Some thi ngs suggest themsel ves wi thout effort,
and i n conti nuous order, just as they are cal l ed for--the thi ngs that come fi rst gi ve
pl ace to those that fol l ow, and i n so doi ng are treasured up agai n to be forthcomi ng
when I want them. Al l of thi s happens when I repeat a thi ng from memory.
13. Al l these thi ngs, each one of whi ch came i nto memory i n i ts own
parti cul ar way, are stored up separatel y and under the general categori es of
understandi ng. For exampl e, l i ght and al l col ors and forms of bodi es came i n
through the eyes; sounds of al l ki nds by the ears; al l smel l s by the passages of the
nostri l s; al l fl avors by the gate of the mouth; by the sensati on of the whol e body,
there i s brought i n what i s hard or soft, hot or col d, smooth or rough, heavy or l i ght,
whether external or i nternal to the body. The vast cave of memory, wi th i ts
numerous and mysteri ous recesses, recei ves al l these thi ngs and stores them up, to
be recal l ed and brought forth when requi red. Each experi ence enters by i ts own
door, and i s stored up i n the memory. And yet the thi ngs themsel ves do not enter i t,
but onl y the i mages of the thi ngs percei ved are there for thought to remember. And
who can tel l how these i mages are formed, even i f i t i s evi dent whi ch of the senses
brought whi ch percepti on i n and stored i t up? For even when I am i n darkness and
si l ence I can bri ng out col ors i n my memory i f I wi sh, and di scern between bl ack and
whi te and the other shades as I wi sh; and at the same ti me, sounds do not break i n
and di sturb what i s drawn i n by my eyes, and whi ch I am consi deri ng, because the
sounds whi ch are al so there are stored up, as i t were, apart. And these too I can
summon i f I pl ease and they are i mmedi atel y present i n memory. And though my
tongue i s at rest and my throat si l ent, yet I can si ng as I wi l l ; and those i mages of
col or, whi ch are as trul y present as before, do not i nterpose themsel ves or i nterrupt
whi l e another treasure whi ch had fl owed i n through the ears i s bei ng thought
about. Si mi l arl y al l the other thi ngs that were brought i n and heaped up by al l the
other senses, I can recal l at my pl easure. And I di sti ngui sh the scent of l i l i es from
that of vi ol ets whi l e actual l y smel l i ng nothi ng; and I prefer honey to mead, a smooth
thi ng to a rough, even though I am nei ther tasti ng nor handl i ng them, but onl y
rememberi ng them.
14. Al l thi s I do wi thi n mysel f, i n that huge hal l of my memory. For i n i t,
heaven, earth, and sea are present to me, and whatever I can cogi tate about them--
except what I have forgotten. There al so I meet mysel f and recal l mysel f
337
--what,
when, or where I di d a thi ng, and how I fel t when I di d i t. There are al l the thi ngs
that I remember, ei ther havi ng experi enced them mysel f or been tol d about them by
others. Out of the same storehouse, wi th these past i mpressi ons, I can construct
now thi s, now that, i mage of thi ngs that I ei ther have experi enced or have bel i eved
on the basi s of experi ence--and from these I can further construct future acti ons,
events, and hopes; and I can medi tate on al l these thi ngs as i f they were present. I
wi l l do thi s or that--I say to mysel f i n that vast recess of my mi nd, wi th i ts ful l
store of so many and such great i mages--and thi s or that wi l l fol l ow upon i t. O
that thi s or that coul d happen! God prevent thi s or that. I speak to mysel f i n thi s
way; and when I speak, the i mages of what I am speaki ng about are present out of
the same store of memory; and i f the i mages were absent I coul d say nothi ng at al l
about them.
15. Great i s thi s power of memory, exceedi ngl y great, O my God--a l arge and
337
The noti on of the soul 's i mmedi ate sel f-knowl edge i s a basi c concepti on i n Augusti ne's psychol ogy
and epi stemol ogy; cf. the refutati on of skepti ci sm, Si fallor, sum i n On Free Will, I I , 3:7; see al so the
City of God, XI , 26.
boundl ess i nner hal l ! Who has pl umbed the depths of i t? Yet i t i s a power of my
mi nd, and i t bel ongs to my nature. But I do not mysel f grasp al l that I am. Thus the
mi nd i s far too narrow to contai n i tsel f. But where can that part of i t be whi ch i t
does not contai n? I s i t outsi de and not i n i tsel f? How can i t be, then, that the mi nd
cannot grasp i tsel f? A great marvel ri ses i n me; astoni shment sei zes me. Men go
forth to marvel at the hei ghts of mountai ns and the huge waves of the sea, the
broad fl ow of the ri vers, the vastness of the ocean, the orbi ts of the stars, and yet
they negl ect to marvel at themsel ves. Nor do they wonder how i t i s that, when I
spoke of al l these thi ngs, I was not l ooki ng at them wi th my eyes--and yet I coul d
not have spoken about them had i t not been that I was actual l y seei ng wi thi n, i n my
memory, those mountai ns and waves and ri vers and stars whi ch I have seen, and
that ocean whi ch I bel i eve i n--and wi th the same vast spaces between them as when
I saw them outsi de me. But when I saw them outsi de me, I di d not take them i nto
me by seei ng them; and the thi ngs themsel ves are not i nsi de me, but onl y thei r
i mages. And yet I knew through whi ch physi cal sense each experi ence had made an
i mpressi on on me.
CHAPTER I X
16. And yet thi s i s not al l that the unl i mi ted capaci ty of my memory stores
up. I n memory, there are al so al l that one has l earned of the l i beral sci ences, and
has not forgotten--removed sti l l further, so to say, i nto an i nner pl ace whi ch i s not a
pl ace. Of these thi ngs i t i s not the i mages that are retai ned, but the thi ngs
themsel ves. For what l i terature and l ogi c are, and what I know about how many
di fferent ki nds of questi ons there are--al l these are stored i n my memory as they
are, so that I have not taken i n the i mage and l eft the thi ng outsi de. I t i s not as
though a sound had sounded and passed away l i ke a voi ce heard by the ear whi ch
l eaves a trace by whi ch i t can be cal l ed i nto memory agai n, as i f i t were sti l l
soundi ng i n mi nd whi l e i t di d so no l onger outsi de. Nor i s i t the same as an odor
whi ch, even after i t has passed and vani shed i nto the wi nd, affects the sense of
smel l --whi ch then conveys i nto the memory the image of the smel l whi ch i s what we
recal l and re-create; or l i ke food whi ch, once i n the bel l y, surel y now has no taste
and yet does have a ki nd of taste i n the memory; or l i ke anythi ng that i s fel t by the
body through the sense of touch, whi ch sti l l remai ns as an i mage i n the memory
after the external object i s removed. For these thi ngs themsel ves are not put i nto
the memory. Onl y the i mages of them are gathered wi th a marvel ous qui ckness and
stored, as i t were, i n the most wonderful fi l i ng system, and are thence produced i n a
marvel ous way by the act of rememberi ng.
CHAPTER X
17. But now when I hear that there are three ki nds of questi ons--Whether a
thi ng i s? What i t i s? Of what ki nd i t i s?--I do i ndeed retai n the i mages of the
sounds of whi ch these words are composed and I know that those sounds pass
through the ai r wi th a noi se and now no l onger exi st. But the thi ngs themsel ves
whi ch were si gni fi ed by those sounds I never coul d reach by any sense of the body
nor see them at al l except by my mi nd. And what I have stored i n my memory was
not thei r si gns, but the thi ngs si gni fi ed.
How they got i nto me, l et them tel l who can. For I exami ne al l the gates of my
fl esh, but I cannot fi nd the door by whi ch any of them entered. For the eyes say, I f
they were col ored, we reported that. The ears say, I f they gave any sound, we gave
noti ce of that. The nostri l s say, I f they smel l , they passed i n by us. The sense of
taste says, I f they have no fl avor, dont ask me about them. The sense of touch
says, I f i t had no bodi l y mass, I di d not touch i t, and i f I never touched i t, I gave no
report about i t.
Whence and how di d these thi ngs enter i nto my memory? I do not know. For
when I fi rst l earned them, i t was not that I bel i eved them on the credi t of another
mans mi nd, but I recogni zed them i n my own; and I saw them as true, took them
i nto my mi nd and l ai d them up, so to say, where I coul d get at them agai n whenever
I wi l l ed. There they were, then, even before I l earned them, but they were not i n my
memory. Where were they, then? How does i t come about that when they were
spoken of, I coul d acknowl edge them and say, So i t i s, i t i s true, unl ess they were
al ready i n the memory, though far back and hi dden, as i t were, i n the more secret
caves, so that unl ess they had been drawn out by the teachi ng of another person, I
shoul d perhaps never have been abl e to thi nk of them at al l ?
CHAPTER XI
18. Thus we fi nd that l earni ng those thi ngs whose i mages we do not take i n
by our senses, but whi ch we i ntui t wi thi n oursel ves wi thout i mages and as they
actual l y are, i s nothi ng el se except the gatheri ng together of those same thi ngs
whi ch the memory al ready contai ns--but i n an i ndi scri mi nate and confused manner-
-and putti ng them together by careful observati on as they are at hand i n the
memory; so that whereas they formerl y l ay hi dden, scattered, or negl ected, they
now come easi l y to present themsel ves to the mi nd whi ch i s now fami l i ar wi th them.
And how many thi ngs of thi s sort my memory has stored up, whi ch have al ready
been di scovered and, as I sai d, l ai d up for ready reference. These are the thi ngs we
may be sai d to have l earned and to know. Yet, i f I cease to recal l them even for short
i nterval s of ti me, they are agai n so submerged--and sl i de back, as i t were, i nto the
further reaches of the memory--that they must be drawn out agai n as i f new from
the same pl ace (for there i s nowhere el se for them to have gone) and must be
col l ected [cogenda] so that they can become known. I n other words, they must be
gathered up [colligenda] from thei r di spersi on. Thi s i s where we get the word
cogitate [cogitare]. For cogo [col l ect] and cogito [to go on col l ecti ng] have the same
rel ati on to each other as ago [do] and agito [do frequentl y], and facio [make] and
factito [make frequentl y]. But the mi nd has properl y l ai d cl ai m to thi s word
[cogi tate] so that not everythi ng that i s gathered together anywhere, but onl y what
i s col l ected and gathered together i n the mi nd, i s properl y sai d to be cogi tated.
CHAPTER XI I
19. The memory al so contai ns the pri nci pl es and the unnumbered l aws of
numbers and di mensi ons. None of these has been i mpressed on the memory by a
physi cal sense, because they have nei ther col or nor sound, nor taste, nor sense of
touch. I have heard the sound of the words by whi ch these thi ngs are si gni fi ed when
they are di scussed: but the sounds are one thi ng, the thi ngs another. For the sounds
are one thi ng i n Greek, another i n Lati n; but the thi ngs themsel ves are nei ther
Greek nor Lati n nor any other l anguage. I have seen the l i nes of the craftsmen, the
fi nest of whi ch are l i ke a spi ders web, but mathemati cal l i nes are di fferent. They
are not the i mages of such thi ngs as the eye of my body has showed me. The man
who knows them does so wi thout any cogi tati on of physi cal objects whatever, but
i ntui ts them wi thi n hi msel f. I have percei ved wi th al l the senses of my body the
numbers we use i n counti ng; but the numbers by whi ch we count are far di fferent
from these. They are not the i mages of these; they si mpl y are. Let the man who does
not see these thi ngs mock me for sayi ng them; and I wi l l pi ty hi m whi l e he l aughs at
me.
CHAPTER XI I I
20. Al l these thi ngs I hol d i n my memory, and I remember how I l earned
them. I al so remember many thi ngs that I have heard qui te fal sel y urged agai nst
them, whi ch, even i f they are fal se, yet i t i s not fal se that I have remembered them.
And I al so remember that I have di sti ngui shed between the truths and the fal se
objecti ons, and now I see that i t i s one thi ng to di sti ngui sh these thi ngs and another
to remember that I di d di sti ngui sh them when I have cogi tated on them. I
remember, then, both that I have often understood these thi ngs and al so that I am
now stori ng away i n my memory what I di sti ngui sh and comprehend of them so that
l ater on I may remember just as I understand them now. Therefore, I remember
that I remembered, so that i f afterward I cal l to mi nd that I once was abl e to
remember these thi ngs i t wi l l be through the power of memory that I recal l i t.
CHAPTER XI V
21. Thi s same memory al so contai ns the feel i ngs of my mi nd; not i n the
manner i n whi ch the mi nd i tsel f experi enced them, but very di fferentl y accordi ng to
a power pecul i ar to memory. For wi thout bei ng joyous now, I can remember that I
once was joyous, and wi thout bei ng sad, I can recal l my past sadness. I can
remember past fears wi thout fear, and former desi res wi thout desi re. Agai n, the
contrary happens. Someti mes when I am joyous I remember my past sadness, and
when sad, remember past joy.
Thi s i s not to be marvel ed at as far as the body i s concerned; for the mi nd i s
one thi ng and the body another.
338
I f, therefore, when I am happy, I recal l some
past bodi l y pai n, i t i s not so strange. But even as thi s memory i s experi enced, i t i s
i denti cal wi th the mi nd--as when we tel l someone to remember somethi ng we say,
See that you bear thi s i n mi nd; and when we forget a thi ng, we say, I t di d not
enter my mi nd or I t sl i pped my mi nd. Thus we cal l memory i tsel f mi nd.
Si nce thi s i s so, how does i t happen that when I am joyful I can sti l l
remember past sorrow? Thus the mi nd has joy, and the memory has sorrow; and the
mi nd i s joyful from the joy that i s i n i t, yet the memory i s not sad from the sadness
that i s i n i t. I s i t possi bl e that the memory does not bel ong to the mi nd? Who wi l l
say so? The memory doubtl ess i s, so to say, the bel l y of the mi nd: and joy and
sadness are l i ke sweet and bi tter food, whi ch when they are commi tted to the
memory are, so to say, passed i nto the bel l y where they can be stored but no l onger
tasted. I t i s ri di cul ous to consi der thi s an anal ogy; yet they are not utterl y unl i ke.
22. But l ook, i t i s from my memory that I produce i t when I say that there are
four basi c emoti ons of the mi nd: desi re, joy, fear, sadness. Whatever ki nd of anal ysi s
I may be abl e to make of these, by di vi di ng each i nto i ts parti cul ar speci es, and by
defi ni ng i t, I sti l l fi nd what to say i n my memory and i t i s from my memory that I
draw i t out. Yet I am not moved by any of these emoti ons when I cal l them to mi nd
by rememberi ng them. Moreover, before I recal l ed them and thought about them,
they were there i n the memory; and thi s i s how they coul d be brought forth i n
remembrance. Perhaps, therefore, just as food i s brought up out of the bel l y by
338
Agai n, the mi nd-body dual i sm typi cal of the Augusti ni an tradi ti on. Cf. E. Gi l son, The Spirit of
Medieval Philosophy (Charl es Scri bner's Sons, New York, 1940), pp. 173-188; and E. Gi l son, The
Philosophy of Saint Bonaventure (Sheed & Ward, New York, 1938), ch. XI .
rumi nati on, so al so these thi ngs are drawn up out of the memory by recal l . But why,
then, does not the man who i s thi nki ng about the emoti ons, and i s thus recal l i ng
them, feel i n the mouth of hi s refl ecti on the sweetness of joy or the bi tterness of
sadness? I s the compari son unl i ke i n thi s because i t i s not compl ete at every poi nt?
For who woul d wi l l i ngl y speak on these subjects, i f as often as we used the term
sadness or fear, we shoul d thereby be compel l ed to be sad or fearful ? And yet we
coul d never speak of them i f we di d not fi nd them i n our memori es, not merel y as
the sounds of the names, as thei r i mages are i mpressed on i t by the physi cal senses,
but al so the noti ons of the thi ngs themsel ves--whi ch we di d not recei ve by any gate
of the fl esh, but whi ch the mi nd i tsel f recogni zes by the experi ence of i ts own
passi ons, and has entrusted to the memory; or el se whi ch the memory i tsel f has
retai ned wi thout thei r bei ng entrusted to i t.
CHAPTER XV
23. Now whether al l thi s i s by means of i mages or not, who can ri ghtl y
affi rm? For I name a stone, I name the sun, and those thi ngs themsel ves are not
present to my senses, but thei r i mages are present i n my memory. I name some
pai n of the body, yet i t i s not present when there i s no pai n; yet i f there were not
some such i mage of i t i n my memory, I coul d not even speak of i t, nor shoul d I be
abl e to di sti ngui sh i t from pl easure. I name bodi l y heal th when I am sound i n body,
and the thi ng i tsel f i s i ndeed present i n me. At the same ti me, unl ess there were
some i mage of i t i n my memory, I coul d not possi bl y cal l to mi nd what the sound of
thi s name si gni fi ed. Nor woul d si ck peopl e know what was meant when heal th was
named, unl ess the same i mage were preserved by the power of memory, even
though the thi ng i tsel f i s absent from the body. I can name the numbers we use i n
counti ng, and i t i s not thei r i mages but themsel ves that are i n my memory. I name
the i mage of the sun, and thi s too i s i n my memory. For I do not recal l the i mage of
that i mage, but that i mage i tsel f, for the i mage i tsel f i s present when I remember i t.
I name memory and I know what I name. But where do I know i t, except i n the
memory i tsel f? I s i t al so present to i tsel f by i ts i mage, and not by i tsel f?
CHAPTER XVI
24. When I name forgetful ness, and understand what I mean by the name,
how coul d I understand i t i f I di d not remember i t? And i f I refer not to the sound of
the name, but to the thi ng whi ch the term si gni fi es, how coul d I know what that
sound si gni fi ed i f I had forgotten what the name means? When, therefore, I
remember memory, then memory i s present to i tsel f by i tsel f, but when I remember
forgetful ness then both memory and forgetful ness are present together--the memory
by whi ch I remember the forgetful ness whi ch I remember. But what i s forgetful ness
except the pri vati on of memory? How, then, i s that present to my memory whi ch,
when i t control s my mi nd, I cannot remember? But i f what we remember we store
up i n our memory; and i f, unl ess we remembered forgetful ness, we coul d never
know the thi ng si gni fi ed by the term when we heard i t--then, forgetful ness i s
contai ned i n the memory. I t i s present so that we do not forget i t, but si nce i t i s
present, we do forget.
From thi s i t i s to be i nferred that when we remember forgetful ness, i t i s not
present to the memory through i tsel f, but through i ts i mage; because i f forgetful ness
were present through i tsel f, i t woul d not l ead us to remember, but onl y to forget.
Now who wi l l someday work thi s out? Who can understand how i t i s?
25. Trul y, O Lord, I toi l wi th thi s and l abor i n mysel f. I have become a
troubl esome fi el d that requi res hard l abor and heavy sweat. For we are not now
searchi ng out the tracts of heaven, or measuri ng the di stances of the stars or
i nqui ri ng about the wei ght of the earth. I t i s I mysel f--I , the mi nd--who remember.
Thi s i s not much to marvel at, i f what I mysel f am i s not far from me. And what i s
nearer to me than mysel f? For see, I am not abl e to comprehend the force of my own
memory, though I coul d not even cal l my own name wi thout i t. But what shal l I say,
when i t i s cl ear to me that I remember forgetful ness? Shoul d I affi rm that what I
remember i s not i n my memory? Or shoul d I say that forgetful ness i s i n my memory
to the end that I shoul d not forget? Both of these vi ews are most absurd. But what
thi rd vi ew i s there? How can I say that the i mage of forgetful ness i s retai ned by my
memory, and not forgetful ness i tsel f, when I remember i t? How can I say thi s, si nce
for the i mage of anythi ng to be i mpri nted on the memory the thi ng i tsel f must
necessari l y have been present fi rst by whi ch the i mage coul d have been i mpri nted?
Thus I remember Carthage; thus, al so, I remember al l the other pl aces where I have
been. And I remember the faces of men whom I have seen and thi ngs reported by
the other senses. I remember the heal th or si ckness of the body. And when these
objects were present, my memory recei ved i mages from them so that they remai n
present i n order for me to see them and refl ect upon them i n my mi nd, i f I choose to
remember them i n thei r absence. I f, therefore, forgetful ness i s retai ned i n the
memory through i ts i mage and not through i tsel f, then thi s means that i t i tsel f was
once present, so that i ts i mage mi ght have been i mpri nted. But when i t was
present, how di d i t wri te i ts i mage on the memory, si nce forgetful ness, by i ts
presence, bl ots out even what i t fi nds al ready wri tten there? And yet i n some way or
other, even though i t i s i ncomprehensi bl e and i nexpl i cabl e, I am sti l l qui te certai n
that I al so remember forgetful ness, by whi ch we remember that somethi ng i s
bl otted out.
CHAPTER XVI I
26. Great i s the power of memory. I t i s a true marvel , O my God, a profound
and i nfi ni te mul ti pl i ci ty! And thi s i s the mi nd, and thi s I mysel f am. What, then, am
I , O my God? Of what nature am I ? A l i fe vari ous, and mani fol d, and exceedi ngl y
vast. Behol d i n the numberl ess hal l s and caves, i n the i nnumerabl e fi el ds and dens
and caverns of my memory, ful l wi thout measure of numberl ess ki nds of thi ngs--
present there ei ther through i mages as al l bodi es are; or present i n the thi ngs
themsel ves as are our thoughts; or by some noti on or observati on as our emoti ons
are, whi ch the memory retai ns even though the mi nd feel s them no l onger, as l ong
as whatever i s i n the memory i s al so i n the mi nd--through al l these I run and fl y to
and fro. I penetrate i nto them on thi s si de and that as far as I can and yet there i s
nowhere any end.
So great i s the power of memory, so great the power of l i fe i n man whose l i fe
i s mortal ! What, then, shal l I do, O thou my true l i fe, my God? I wi l l pass even
beyond thi s power of mi ne that i s cal l ed memory--I wi l l pass beyond i t, that I may
come to thee, O l ovel y Li ght. And what art thou sayi ng to me? See, I soar by my
mi nd toward thee, who remai nest above me. I wi l l al so pass beyond thi s power of
mi ne that i s cal l ed memory, desi ri ng to reach thee where thou canst be reached, and
wi shi ng to cl eave to thee where i t i s possi bl e to cl eave to thee. For even beasts and
bi rds possess memory, or el se they coul d never fi nd thei r l ai rs and nests agai n, nor
di spl ay many other thi ngs they know and do by habi t. I ndeed, they coul d not even
form thei r habi ts except by thei r memori es. I wi l l therefore pass even beyond
memory that I may reach Hi m who has di fferenti ated me from the four-footed
beasts and the fowl s of the ai r by maki ng me a wi ser creature. Thus I wi l l pass
beyond memory; but where shal l I fi nd thee, who art the true Good and the
steadfast Sweetness? But where shal l I fi nd thee? I f I fi nd thee wi thout memory,
then I shal l have no memory of thee; and how coul d I fi nd thee at al l , i f I do not
remember thee?
CHAPTER XVI I I
27. For the woman who l ost her smal l coi n
339
and searched for i t wi th a l i ght
woul d never have found i t unl ess she had remembered i t. For when i t was found,
how coul d she have known whether i t was the same coi n, i f she had not remembered
i t? I remember havi ng l ost and found many thi ngs, and I have l earned thi s from
that experi ence: that when I was searchi ng for any of them and was asked: I s thi s
i t? I s that i t? I answered, No, unti l fi nal l y what I was seeki ng was shown to me.
But i f I had not remembered i t--whatever i t was--even though i t was shown to me, I
sti l l woul d not have found i t because I coul d not have recogni zed i t. And thi s i s the
way i t al ways i s when we search for and fi nd anythi ng that i s l ost. Sti l l , i f anythi ng
i s acci dental l y l ost from si ght--not from memory, as a vi si bl e body mi ght be--i ts
i mage i s retai ned wi thi n, and the thi ng i s searched for unti l i t i s restored to si ght.
And when the thi ng i s found, i t i s recogni zed by the i mage of i t whi ch i s wi thi n. And
we do not say that we have found what we have l ost unl ess we can recogni ze i t, and
we cannot recogni ze i t unl ess we remember i t. But al l the whi l e the thi ng l ost to the
si ght was retai ned i n the memory.
CHAPTER XI X
28. But what happens when the memory i tsel f l oses somethi ng, as when we
forget anythi ng and try to recal l i t? Where, fi nal l y, do we search, but i n the memory
i tsel f? And there, i f by chance one thi ng i s offered for another, we refuse i t unti l we
meet wi th what we are l ooki ng for; and when we do, we recogni ze that thi s i s i t. But
we coul d not do thi s unl ess we recogni zed i t, nor coul d we have recogni zed i t unl ess
we remembered i t. Yet we had i ndeed forgotten i t.
Perhaps the whol e of i t had not sl i pped out of our memory; but a part was
retai ned by whi ch the other l ost part was sought for, because the memory real i zed
that i t was not operati ng as smoothl y as usual and was bei ng hel d up by the
cri ppl i ng of i ts habi tual worki ng; hence, i t demanded the restorati on of what was
l acki ng.
For exampl e, i f we see or thi nk of some man we know, and, havi ng forgotten
hi s name, try to recal l i t--i f some other thi ng presents i tsel f, we cannot ti e i t i nto the
effort to remember, because i t was not habi tual l y thought of i n associ ati on wi th
hi m. I t i s consequentl y rejected, unti l somethi ng comes i nto the mi nd on whi ch our
knowl edge can ri ghtl y rest as the fami l i ar and sought-for object. And where does
thi s name come back from, save from the memory i tsel f? For even when we
recogni ze i t by anothers remi ndi ng us of i t, sti l l i t i s from the memory that thi s
comes, for we do not bel i eve i t as somethi ng new; but when we recal l i t, we admi t
that what was sai d was correct. But i f the name had been enti rel y bl otted out of the
mi nd, we shoul d not be abl e to recol l ect i t even when remi nded of i t. For we have
not enti rel y forgotten anythi ng i f we can remember that we have forgotten i t. For a
l ost noti on, one that we have enti rel y forgotten, we cannot even search for.
339
Luke 15:8.
CHAPTER XX
29. How, then, do I seek thee, O Lord? For when I seek thee, my God, I seek a
happy l i fe. I wi l l seek thee that my soul may l i ve.
340
For my body l i ves by my soul ,
and my soul l i ves by thee. How, then, do I seek a happy l i fe, si nce happi ness i s not
mi ne ti l l I can ri ghtl y say: I t i s enough. Thi s i s i t. How do I seek i t? I s i t by
rememberi ng, as though I had forgotten i t and sti l l knew that I had forgotten i t? Do
I seek i t i n l ongi ng to l earn of i t as though i t were somethi ng unknown, whi ch ei ther
I had never known or had so compl etel y forgotten as not even to remember that I
had forgotten i t? I s not the happy l i fe the thi ng that al l desi re, and i s there anyone
who does not desi re i t at al l ?
341
But where woul d they have gotten the knowl edge of
i t, that they shoul d so desi re i t? Where have they seen i t that they shoul d so l ove i t?
I t i s somehow true that we have i t, but how I do not know.
There i s, i ndeed, a sense i n whi ch when anyone has hi s desi re he i s happy.
And then there are some who are happy i n hope. These are happy i n an i nferi or
degree to those that are actual l y happy; yet they are better off than those who are
happy nei ther i n actual i ty nor i n hope. But even these, i f they had not known
happi ness i n some degree, woul d not then desi re to be happy. And yet i t i s most
certai n that they do so desi re. How they come to know happi ness, I cannot tel l , but
they have i t by some ki nd of knowl edge unknown to me, for I am very much i n
doubt as to whether i t i s i n the memory. For i f i t i s i n there, then we have been
happy once on a ti me--ei ther each of us i ndi vi dual l y or al l of us i n that man who
fi rst si nned and i n whom al so we al l di ed and from whom we are al l born i n mi sery.
How thi s i s, I do not now ask; but I do ask whether the happy l i fe i s i n the memory.
For i f we di d not know i t, we shoul d not l ove i t. We hear the name of i t, and we al l
acknowl edge that we desi re the thi ng, for we are not del i ghted wi th the name onl y.
For when a Greek hears i t spoken i n Lati n, he does not feel del i ghted, for he does
not know what has been spoken. But we are as del i ghted as he woul d be i n turn i f
he heard i t i n Greek, because the thi ng i tsel f i s nei ther Greek nor Lati n, thi s
happi ness whi ch Greeks and Lati ns and men of al l the other tongues l ong so
earnestl y to obtai n. I t i s, then, known to al l ; and i f al l coul d wi th one voi ce be asked
whether they wi shed to be happy, there i s no doubt they woul d al l answer that they
woul d. And thi s woul d not be possi bl e unl ess the thi ng i tsel f, whi ch we name
happi ness, were hel d i n the memory.
CHAPTER XXI
30. But i s i t the same ki nd of memory as one who havi ng seen Carthage
remembers i t? No, for the happy l i fe i s not vi si bl e to the eye, si nce i t i s not a
physi cal object. I s i t the sort of memory we have for numbers? No, for the man who
has these i n hi s understandi ng does not keep stri vi ng to attai n more. Now we know
somethi ng about the happy l i fe and therefore we l ove i t, but sti l l we wi sh to go on
stri vi ng for i t that we may be happy. I s the memory of happi ness, then, somethi ng
l i ke the memory of el oquence? No, for al though some, when they hear the term
el oquence, cal l the thi ng to mi nd, even i f they are not themsel ves el oquent--and
further, there are many peopl e who woul d l i ke to be el oquent, from whi ch i t fol l ows
that they must know somethi ng about i t--neverthel ess, these peopl e have noti ced
through thei r senses that others are el oquent and have been del i ghted to observe
340
Cf. I sa. 55:3.
341
Cf. the earl y di al ogue "On the Happy Li fe" i n Vol . I of The Fathers of the Church (New York,
1948).
thi s and l ong to be thi s way themsel ves. But they woul d not be del i ghted i f i t were
not some i nteri or knowl edge; and they woul d not desi re to be del i ghted unl ess they
had been del i ghted. But as for a happy l i fe, there i s no physi cal percepti on by whi ch
we experi ence i t i n others.
Do we remember happi ness, then, as we remember joy? I t may be so, for I
remember my joy even when I am sad, just as I remember a happy l i fe when I am
mi serabl e. And I have never, through physi cal percepti on, ei ther seen, heard,
smel l ed, tasted, or touched my joy. But I have experi enced i t i n my mi nd when I
rejoi ced; and the knowl edge of i t cl ung to my memory so that I can cal l i t to mi nd,
someti mes wi th di sdai n and at other ti mes wi th l ongi ng, dependi ng on the di fferent
ki nds of thi ngs I now remember that I rejoi ced i n. For I have been bathed wi th a
certai n joy even by uncl ean thi ngs, whi ch I now detest and execrate as I cal l them to
mi nd. At other ti mes, I cal l to mi nd wi th l ongi ng good and honest thi ngs, whi ch are
not any l onger near at hand, and I am therefore saddened when I recal l my former
joy.
31. Where and when di d I ever experi ence my happy l i fe that I can cal l i t to
mi nd and l ove i t and l ong for i t? I t i s not I al one or even a few others who wi sh to be
happy, but absol utel y everybody. Unl ess we knew happi ness by a knowl edge that i s
certai n, we shoul d not wi sh for i t wi th a wi l l whi ch i s so certai n. Take thi s exampl e:
I f two men were asked whether they wi shed to serve as sol di ers, one of them mi ght
repl y that he woul d, and the other that he woul d not; but i f they were asked
whether they wi shed to be happy, both of them woul d unhesi tati ngl y say that they
woul d. But the fi rst one woul d wi sh to serve as a sol di er and the other woul d not
wi sh to serve, both from no other moti ve than to be happy. I s i t, perhaps, that one
fi nds hi s joy i n thi s and another i n that? Thus they agree i n thei r wi sh for
happi ness just as they woul d al so agree, i f asked, i n wi shi ng for joy. I s thi s joy what
they cal l a happy l i fe? Al though one coul d choose hi s joy i n thi s way and another i n
that, al l have one goal whi ch they stri ve to attai n, namel y, to have joy. Thi s joy,
then, bei ng somethi ng that no one can say he has not experi enced, i s therefore
found i n the memory and i t i s recogni zed whenever the phrase a happy l i fe i s
heard.
CHAPTER XXI I
32. Forbi d i t, O Lord, put i t far from the heart of thy servant, who confesses
to thee--far be i t from me to thi nk I am happy because of any and al l the joy I have.
For there i s a joy not granted to the wi cked but onl y to those who worshi p thee
thankful l y--and thi s joy thou thysel f art. The happy l i fe i s thi s--to rejoi ce to thee, i n
thee, and for thee. Thi s i t i s and there i s no other. But those who thi nk there i s
another fol l ow after other joys, and not the true one. But thei r wi l l i s sti l l not moved
except by some i mage or shadow of joy.
CHAPTER XXI I I
33. I s i t, then, uncertai n that al l men wi sh to be happy, si nce those who do
not wi sh to fi nd thei r joy i n thee--whi ch i s al one the happy l i fe--do not actual l y
desi re the happy l i fe? Or, i s i t rather that al l desi re thi s, but because the fl esh l usts
agai nst the spi ri t and the spi ri t agai nst the fl esh, so that they prevent you from
doi ng what you woul d,
342
you fal l to doi ng what you are abl e to do and are content
wi th that. For you do not want to do what you cannot do urgentl y enough to make
342
Gal . 5:17.
you abl e to do i t.
Now I ask al l men whether they woul d rather rejoi ce i n truth or i n fal sehood.
They wi l l no more hesi tate to answer, I n truth, than to say that they wi sh to be
happy. For a happy l i fe i s joy i n the truth. Yet thi s i s joy i n thee, who art the Truth,
O God my Li ght, the heal th of my countenance and my God.
343
Al l wi sh for thi s
happy l i fe; al l wi sh for thi s l i fe whi ch i s the onl y happy one: joy i n the truth i s what
al l men wi sh.
I have had experi ence wi th many who wi shed to decei ve, but not one who
wi shed to be decei ved.
344
Where, then, di d they ever know about thi s happy l i fe,
except where they knew al so what the truth i s? For they l ove i t, too, si nce they are
not wi l l i ng to be decei ved. And when they l ove the happy l i fe, whi ch i s nothi ng el se
but joy i n the truth, then certai nl y they al so l ove the truth. And yet they woul d not
l ove i t i f there were not some knowl edge of i t i n the memory.
Why, then, do they not rejoi ce i n i t? Why are they not happy? Because they
are so ful l y preoccupi ed wi th other thi ngs whi ch do more to make them mi serabl e
than those whi ch woul d make them happy, whi ch they remember so l i ttl e about. Yet
there i s a l i ttl e l i ght i n men. Let them wal k--l et them wal k i n i t, l est the darkness
overtake them.
34. Why, then, does truth generate hatred, and why does thy servant who
preaches the truth come to be an enemy to them who al so l ove the happy l i fe, whi ch
i s nothi ng el se than joy i n the truth--unl ess i t be that truth i s l oved i n such a way
that those who l ove somethi ng el se besi des her wi sh that to be the truth whi ch they
do l ove. Si nce they are unwi l l i ng to be decei ved, they are unwi l l i ng to be convi nced
that they have been decei ved. Therefore, they hate the truth for the sake of
whatever i t i s that they l ove i n pl ace of the truth. They l ove truth when she shi nes
on them; and hate her when she rebukes them. And si nce they are not wi l l i ng to be
decei ved, but do wi sh to decei ve, they l ove truth when she reveal s hersel f and hate
her when she reveal s them. On thi s account, she wi l l so repay them that those who
are unwi l l i ng to be exposed by her she wi l l i ndeed expose agai nst thei r wi l l , and yet
wi l l not di scl ose hersel f to them.
Thus, thus, trul y thus: the human mi nd so bl i nd and si ck, so base and i l l -
mannered, desi res to l i e hi dden, but does not wi sh that anythi ng shoul d be hi dden
from i t. And yet the opposi te i s what happens--the mi nd i tsel f i s not hi dden from the
truth, but the truth i s hi dden from i t. Yet even so, for al l i ts wretchedness, i t sti l l
prefers to rejoi ce i n truth rather than i n known fal sehoods. I t wi l l , then, be happy
onl y when wi thout other di stracti ons i t comes to rejoi ce i n that si ngl e Truth through
whi ch al l thi ngs el se are true.
CHAPTER XXI V
35. Behol d how great a terri tory I have expl ored i n my memory seeki ng thee,
O Lord! And i n i t al l I have sti l l not found thee. Nor have I found anythi ng about
thee, except what I had al ready retai ned i n my memory from the ti me I l earned of
thee. For where I found Truth, there found I my God, who i s the Truth. From the
ti me I l earned thi s I have not forgotten. And thus si nce the ti me I l earned of thee,
thou hast dwel t i n my memory, and i t i s there that I fi nd thee whenever I cal l thee
to remembrance, and del i ght i n thee. These are my hol y del i ghts, whi ch thou hast
bestowed on me i n thy mercy, mi ndful of my poverty.
343
Ps. 42:11.
344
Cf. Enchiridion, VI , 19ff.
CHAPTER XXV
36. But where i n my memory dost thou abi de, O Lord? Where dost thou dwel l
there? What sort of l odgi ng hast thou made for thysel f there? What ki nd of
sanctuary hast thou bui l t for thysel f? Thou hast done thi s honor to my memory to
take up thy abode i n i t, but I must consi der further i n what part of i t thou dost
abi de. For i n cal l i ng thee to mi nd, I soared beyond those parts of memory whi ch the
beasts al so possess, because I di d not fi nd thee there among the i mages of corporeal
thi ngs. From there I went on to those parts where I had stored the remembered
affecti ons of my mi nd, and I di d not fi nd thee there. And I entered i nto the i nmost
seat of my mi nd, whi ch i s i n my memory, si nce the mi nd remembers i tsel f al so--and
thou wast not there. For just as thou art not a bodi l y i mage, nor the emoti on of a
l i vi ng creature (such as we feel when we rejoi ce or are gri ef-stri cken, when we
desi re, or fear, or remember, or forget, or anythi ng of that ki nd), so nei ther art thou
the mi nd i tsel f. For thou art the Lord God of the mi nd and of al l these thi ngs that
are mutabl e; but thou abi dest i mmutabl e over al l . Yet thou hast el ected to dwel l i n
my memory from the ti me I l earned of thee. But why do I now i nqui re about the
part of my memory thou dost dwel l i n, as i f i ndeed there were separate parts i n i t?
Assuredl y, thou dwel l est i n i t, si nce I have remembered thee from the ti me I
l earned of thee, and I fi nd thee i n my memory when I cal l thee to mi nd.
CHAPTER XXVI
37. Where, then, di d I fi nd thee so as to be abl e to l earn of thee? For thou
wast not i n my memory before I l earned of thee. Where, then, di d I fi nd thee so as to
be abl e to l earn of thee--save i n thysel f beyond me.
345
Pl ace there i s none. We go
backward and forward and there i s no pl ace. Everywhere and at once, O Truth,
thou gui dest al l who consul t thee, and si mul taneousl y answerest al l even though
they consul t thee on qui te di fferent thi ngs. Thou answerest cl earl y, though al l do
not hear i n cl ari ty. Al l take counsel of thee on whatever poi nt they wi sh, though
they do not al ways hear what they wi sh. He i s thy best servant who does not l ook to
hear from thee what he hi msel f wi l l s, but who wi l l s rather to wi l l what he hears
from thee.
CHAPTER XXVI I
38. Bel atedl y I l oved thee, O Beauty so anci ent and so new, bel atedl y I l oved
thee. For see, thou wast wi thi n and I was wi thout, and I sought thee out there.
Unl ovel y, I rushed heedl essl y among the l ovel y thi ngs thou hast made. Thou wast
wi th me, but I was not wi th thee. These thi ngs kept me far from thee; even though
they were not at al l unl ess they were i n thee. Thou di dst cal l and cry al oud, and
di dst force open my deafness. Thou di dst gl eam and shi ne, and di dst chase away my
bl i ndness. Thou di dst breathe fragrant odors and I drew i n my breath; and now I
pant for thee. I tasted, and now I hunger and thi rst. Thou di dst touch me, and I
burned for thy peace.
CHAPTER XXVI I I
39. When I come to be uni ted to thee wi th al l my bei ng, then there wi l l be no
345
When he i s known at al l , God i s known as the Sel f-evi dent. Thi s i s, of course, not a doctri ne of
i nnate i deas but rather of the necessi ty, and real i ty, of di vi ne i l l umi nati on as the dynamic source of
al l our knowl edge of di vi ne real i ty. Cf. Copl estone, op. cit., ch. I V, and Cushman, op. cit.
more pai n and toi l for me, and my l i fe shal l be a real l i fe, bei ng whol l y fi l l ed by thee.
But si nce he whom thou fi l l est i s the one thou l i ftest up, I am sti l l a burden to
mysel f because I am not yet fi l l ed by thee. Joys of sorrow contend wi th sorrows of
joy, and on whi ch si de the vi ctory l i es I do not know.
Woe i s me! Lord, have pi ty on me; my evi l sorrows contend wi th my good joys,
and on whi ch si de the vi ctory l i es I do not know. Woe i s me! Lord, have pi ty on me.
Woe i s me! Behol d, I do not hi de my wounds. Thou art the Physi ci an, I am the si ck
man; thou art merci ful , I need mercy. I s not the l i fe of man on earth an ordeal ? Who
i s he that wi shes for vexati ons and di ffi cul ti es? Thou commandest them to be
endured, not to be l oved. For no man l oves what he endures, though he may l ove to
endure. Yet even i f he rejoi ces to endure, he woul d prefer that there were nothi ng
for hi m to endure. I n adversi ty, I desi re prosperi ty; i n prosperi ty, I fear adversi ty.
What mi ddl e pl ace i s there, then, between these two, where human l i fe i s not an
ordeal ? There i s woe i n the prosperi ty of thi s worl d; there i s woe i n the fear of
mi sfortune; there i s woe i n the di storti on of joy. There i s woe i n the adversi ti es of
thi s worl d--a second woe, and a thi rd, from the desi re of prosperi ty--because
adversi ty i tsel f i s a hard thi ng to bear and makes shi pwreck of endurance. I s not the
l i fe of man upon the earth an ordeal , and that wi thout surcease?
CHAPTER XXI X
40. My whol e hope i s i n thy exceedi ng great mercy and that al one. Gi ve what
thou commandest and command what thou wi l t. Thou commandest conti nence from
us, and when I knew, as i t i s sai d, that no one coul d be conti nent unl ess God gave i t
to hi m, even thi s was a poi nt of wi sdom to know whose gi ft i t was.
346
For by
conti nence we are bound up and brought back together i n the One, whereas before
we were scattered abroad among the many.
347
For he l oves thee too l i ttl e who l oves
al ong wi th thee anythi ng el se that he does not l ove for thy sake, O Love, who dost
burn forever and art never quenched. O Love, O my God, enki ndl e me! Thou
commandest conti nence; gi ve what thou commandest, and command what thou wi l t.
CHAPTER XXX
41. Obvi ousl y thou commandest that I shoul d be conti nent from the l ust of
the fl esh, and the l ust of the eyes, and the pri de of l i fe.
348
Thou commandest me to
abstai n from forni cati on, and as for marri age i tsel f, thou hast counsel ed somethi ng
better than what thou dost al l ow. And si nce thou gavest i t, i t was done--even before
I became a mi ni ster of thy sacrament. But there sti l l exi st i n my memory--of whi ch I
have spoken so much--the i mages of such thi ngs as my habi ts had fi xed there. These
thi ngs rush i nto my thoughts wi th no power when I am awake; but i n sl eep they
rush i n not onl y so as to gi ve pl easure, but even to obtai n consent and what very
cl osel y resembl es the deed i tsel f. I ndeed, the i l l usi on of the i mage prevai l s to such
an extent, i n both my soul and my fl esh, that the i l l usi on persuades me when
sl eepi ng to what the real i ty cannot do when I am awake. Am I not mysel f at such a
ti me, O Lord my God? And i s there so much of a di fference between mysel f awake
and mysel f i n the moment when I pass from waki ng to sl eepi ng, or return from
sl eepi ng to waki ng?
Where, then, i s the power of reason whi ch resi sts such suggesti ons when I am
346
Cf. Wi s. 8:21.
347
Cf. Enneads, VI , 9:4.
348
1 John 2:16.
awake--for even i f the thi ngs themsel ves be forced upon i t I remai n unmoved? Does
reason cease when the eyes cl ose? I s i t put to sl eep wi th the bodi l y senses? But i n
that case how does i t come to pass that even i n sl umber we often resi st, and wi th
our consci ous purposes i n mi nd, conti nue most chastel y i n them, and yi el d no assent
to such al l urements? Yet there i s at l east thi s much di fference: that when i t
happens otherwi se i n dreams, when we wake up, we return to peace of consci ence.
And i t i s by thi s di fference between sl eepi ng and waki ng that we di scover that i t
was not we who di d i t, whi l e we sti l l feel sorry that i n some way i t was done i n us.
42. I s not thy hand, O Al mi ghty God, abl e to heal al l the di seases of my soul
and, by thy more and more abundant grace, to quench even the l asci vi ous moti ons
of my sl eep? Thou wi l t i ncrease thy gi fts i n me more and more, O Lord, that my soul
may fol l ow me to thee, wrenched free from the sti cky gl ue of l ust so that i t i s no
l onger i n rebel l i on agai nst i tsel f, even i n dreams; that i t nei ther commi ts nor
consents to these debasi ng corrupti ons whi ch come through sensual i mages and
whi ch resul t i n the pol l uti on of the fl esh. For i t i s no great thi ng for the Al mi ghty,
who i s abl e to do . . . more than we can ask or thi nk,
349
to bri ng i t about that no
such i nfl uence--not even one so sl i ght that a nod mi ght restrai n i t--shoul d afford
grati fi cati on to the feel i ngs of a chaste person even when sl eepi ng. Thi s coul d come
to pass not onl y i n thi s l i fe but even at my present age. But what I am sti l l i n thi s
way of wi ckedness I have confessed unto my good Lord, rejoi ci ng wi th trembl i ng i n
what thou hast gi ven me and gri evi ng i n mysel f for that i n whi ch I am sti l l
i mperfect. I am trusti ng that thou wi l t perfect thy merci es i n me, to the ful l ness of
that peace whi ch both my i nner and outward bei ng shal l have wi th thee when death
i s swal l owed up i n vi ctory.
350
CHAPTER XXXI
43. There i s yet another evi l of the day
351
to whi ch I wi sh I were suffi ci ent.
By eati ng and dri nki ng we restore the dai l y l osses of the body unti l that day when
thou destroyest both food and stomach, when thou wi l t destroy thi s empti ness wi th
an amazi ng ful l ness and wi l t cl othe thi s corrupti bl e wi th an eternal i ncorrupti on.
But now the necessi ty of habi t i s sweet to me, and agai nst thi s sweetness must I
fi ght, l est I be enthral l ed by i t. Thus I carry on a dai l y war by fasti ng, constantl y
bri ngi ng my body i nto subjecti on,
352
after whi ch my pai ns are bani shed by
pl easure. For hunger and thi rst are actual pai n. They consume and destroy l i ke
fever does, unl ess the medi ci ne of food i s at hand to rel i eve us. And si nce thi s
medi ci ne at hand comes from the comfort we recei ve i n thy gi fts (by means of whi ch
l and and water and ai r serve our i nfi rmi ty), even our cal ami ty i s cal l ed pl easure.
44. Thi s much thou hast taught me: that I shoul d l earn to take food as
medi ci ne. But duri ng that ti me when I pass from the pi nch of empti ness to the
contentment of ful l ness, i t i s i n that very moment that the snare of appeti te l i es
bai ted for me. For the passage i tsel f i s pl easant; there i s no other way of passi ng
thi ther, and necessi ty compel s us to pass. And whi l e heal th i s the reason for our
eati ng and dri nki ng, yet a peri l ous del i ght joi ns i tsel f to them as a handmai d; and
i ndeed, she tri es to take precedence i n order that I may want to do for her sake
what I say I want to do for heal ths sake. They do not both have the same l i mi t
ei ther. What i s suffi ci ent for heal th i s not enough for pl easure. And i t i s often a
349
Eph. 3:20.
350
1 Cor. 15:54.
351
Cf. Matt. 6:34.
352
1 Cor. 9:27.
matter of doubt whether i t i s the needful care of the body that sti l l cal l s for food or
whether i t i s the sensual snare of desi re sti l l wanti ng to be served. I n thi s
uncertai nty my unhappy soul rejoi ces, and uses i t to prepare an excuse as a defense.
I t i s gl ad that i t i s not cl ear as to what i s suffi ci ent for the moderati on of heal th, so
that under the pretense of heal th i t may conceal i ts projects for pl easure. These
temptati ons I dai l y endeavor to resi st and I summon thy ri ght hand to my hel p and
cast my perpl exi ti es onto thee, for I have not yet reached a fi rm concl usi on i n thi s
matter.
45. I hear the voi ce of my God commandi ng: Let not your heart be
overcharged wi th surfei ti ng and drunkenness.
353
Drunkenness i s far from me.
Thou wi l t have mercy that i t does not come near me. But surfei ti ng someti mes
creeps upon thy servant. Thou wi l t have mercy that i t may be put far from me. For
no man can be conti nent unl ess thou gi ve i t.
354
Many thi ngs that we pray for thou
gi vest us, and whatever good we recei ve before we prayed for i t, we recei ve i t from
thee, so that we mi ght afterward know that we di d recei ve i t from thee. I never was
a drunkard, but I have known drunkards made i nto sober men by thee. I t was al so
thy doi ng that those who never were drunkards have not been--and l i kewi se, i t was
from thee that those who have been mi ght not remai n so al ways. And i t was
l i kewi se from thee that both mi ght know from whom al l thi s came.
I heard another voi ce of thi ne: Do not fol l ow your l usts and refrai n yoursel f
from your pl easures.
355
And by thy favor I have al so heard thi s sayi ng i n whi ch I
have taken much del i ght: Nei ther i f we eat are we the better; nor i f we eat not are
we the worse.
356
Thi s i s to say that nei ther shal l the one make me to abound, nor
the other to be wretched. I heard sti l l another voi ce: For I have l earned, i n
whatsoever state I am, therewi th to be content. I know how to be abased and I know
how to abound. . . . I can do al l thi ngs through Chri st who strengtheneth me.
357
See
here a sol di er of the heavenl y army; not the sort of dust we are. But remember, O
Lord, that we are dust
358
and that thou di dst create man out of the dust,
359
and
that he was l ost, and i s found.
360
Of course, he [the apostl e Paul ] coul d not do al l
thi s by hi s own power. He was of the same dust--he whom I l oved so much and who
spoke of these thi ngs through the affl atus of thy i nspi rati on: I can, he sai d, do al l
thi ngs through hi m who strengtheneth me. Strengthen me, that I too may be abl e.
Gi ve what thou commandest, and command what thou wi l t. Thi s man [Paul ]
confesses that he recei ved the gi ft of grace and that, when he gl ori es, he gl ori es i n
the Lord. I have heard yet another voi ce prayi ng that he mi ght recei ve. Take from
me, he sai d, the greedi ness of the bel l y.
361
And from thi s i t appears, O my hol y
God, that thou dost gi ve i t, when what thou commandest to be done i s done.
46. Thou hast taught me, good Father, that to the pure al l thi ngs are
pure
362
; but i t i s evi l for that man who gi ves offense i n eati ng
363
; and that every
creature of thi ne i s good, and nothi ng i s to be refused i f i t i s recei ved wi th
353
Cf. Luke 21:34.
354
Cf. Wi s. 8:21.
355
Eccl us. 18:30.
356
1 Cor. 8:8.
357
Phi l . 4:11-13.
358
Ps. 103:14.
359
Cf. Gen. 3:19.
360
Luke 15:24.
361
Eccl us. 23:6.
362
Ti tus 1:15.
363
Rom. 14:20.
thanksgi vi ng
364
; and that meat does not commend us to God
365
; and that no man
shoul d judge us i n meat or i n dri nk.
366
Let not hi m who eats despi se hi m who eats
not, and l et hi m that does not eat judge not hi m who does eat.
367
These thi ngs I
have l earned, thanks and prai se be to thee, O my God and Master, who knockest at
my ears and enl i ghtenest my heart. Del i ver me from al l temptati on!
I t i s not the uncl eanness of meat that I fear, but the uncl eanness of an
i nconti nent appeti te. I know that permi ssi on was granted Noah to eat every ki nd of
fl esh that was good for food; that El i jah was fed wi th fl esh; that John, bl essed wi th
a wonderful absti nence, was not pol l uted by the l i vi ng creatures (that i s, the
l ocusts) on whi ch he fed. And I al so know that Esau was decei ved by hi s hungeri ng
after l enti l s and that Davi d bl amed hi msel f for desi ri ng water, and that our Ki ng
was tempted not by fl esh but by bread. And, thus, the peopl e i n the wi l derness trul y
deserved thei r reproof, not because they desi red meat, but because i n thei r desi re
for food they murmured agai nst the Lord.
47. Set down, then, i n the mi dst of these temptati ons, I stri ve dai l y agai nst
my appeti te for food and dri nk. For i t i s not the ki nd of appeti te I am abl e to deal
wi th by cutti ng i t off once for al l , and thereafter not touchi ng i t, as I was abl e to do
wi th forni cati on. The bri dl e of the throat, therefore, must be hel d i n the mean
between sl ackness and ti ghtness. And who, O Lord, i s he who i s not i n some degree
carri ed away beyond the bounds of necessi ty? Whoever he i s, he i s great; l et hi m
magni fy thy name. But I am not such a one, for I am a si nful man.
368
Yet I too
magni fy thy name, for he who hath overcome the worl d
369
i ntercedeth wi th thee
for my si ns, numberi ng me among the weak members of hi s body; for thy eyes di d
see what was i mperfect i n hi m, and i n thy book al l shal l be wri tten down.
370
CHAPTER XXXI I
48. I am not much troubl ed by the al l urement of odors. When they are absent,
I do not seek them; when they are present, I do not refuse them; and I am al ways
prepared to go wi thout them. At any rate, I appear thus to mysel f; i t i s qui te
possi bl e that I am decei ved. For there i s a l amentabl e darkness i n whi ch my
capabi l i ti es are conceal ed, so that when my mi nd i nqui res i nto i tsel f concerni ng i ts
own powers, i t does not readi l y venture to bel i eve i tsel f, because what al ready i s i n
i t i s l argel y conceal ed unl ess experi ence bri ngs i t to l i ght. Thus no man ought to feel
secure i n thi s l i fe, the whol e of whi ch i s cal l ed an ordeal , ordered so that the man
who coul d be made better from havi ng been worse may not al so from havi ng been
better become worse. Our sol e hope, our sol e confi dence, our onl y assured promi se,
i s thy mercy.
CHAPTER XXXI I I
49. The del i ghts of the ear drew and hel d me much more powerful l y, but thou
di dst unbi nd and l i berate me. I n those mel odi es whi ch thy words i nspi re when sung
wi th a sweet and trai ned voi ce, I sti l l fi nd repose; yet not so as to cl i ng to them, but
364
1 Ti m. 4:4.
365
1 Cor. 8:8.
366
Cf. Col . 2:16.
367
Rom. 14:3.
368
Luke 5:8.
369
John 16:33.
370
Cf. Ps. 139:16.
al ways so as to be abl e to free mysel f as I wi sh. But i t i s because of the words whi ch
are thei r l i fe that they gai n entry i nto me and stri ve for a pl ace of proper honor i n
my heart; and I can hardl y assi gn them a fi tti ng one. Someti mes, I seem to mysel f to
gi ve them more respect than i s fi tti ng, when I see that our mi nds are more devoutl y
and earnestl y i nfl amed i n pi ety by the hol y words when they are sung than when
they are not. And I recogni ze that al l the di verse affecti ons of our spi ri ts have thei r
appropri ate measures i n the voi ce and song, to whi ch they are sti mul ated by I know
not what secret correl ati on. But the pl easures of my fl esh--to whi ch the mi nd ought
never to be surrendered nor by them enervated--often begui l e me whi l e physi cal
sense does not attend on reason, to fol l ow her pati entl y, but havi ng once gai ned
entry to hel p the reason, i t stri ves to run on before her and be her l eader. Thus i n
these thi ngs I si n unknowi ngl y, but I come to know i t afterward.
50. On the other hand, when I avoi d very earnestl y thi s ki nd of decepti on, I
err out of too great austeri ty. Someti mes I go to the poi nt of wi shi ng that al l the
mel odi es of the pl easant songs to whi ch Davi ds Psal ter i s adapted shoul d be
bani shed both from my ears and from those of the Church i tsel f. I n thi s mood, the
safer way seemed to me the one I remember was once rel ated to me concerni ng
Athanasi us, bi shop of Al exandri a, who requi red the readers of the psal m to use so
sl i ght an i nfl ecti on of the voi ce that i t was more l i ke speaki ng than si ngi ng.
However, when I cal l to mi nd the tears I shed at the songs of thy Church at
the outset of my recovered fai th, and how even now I am moved, not by the si ngi ng
but by what i s sung (when they are sung wi th a cl ear and ski l l ful l y modul ated
voi ce), I then come to acknowl edge the great uti l i ty of thi s custom. Thus I vaci l l ate
between dangerous pl easure and heal thful exerci se. I am i ncl i ned--though I
pronounce no i rrevocabl e opi ni on on the subject--to approve of the use of si ngi ng i n
the church, so that by the del i ghts of the ear the weaker mi nds may be sti mul ated
to a devoti onal mood.
371
Yet when i t happens that I am more moved by the si ngi ng
than by what i s sung, I confess mysel f to have si nned wi ckedl y, and then I woul d
rather not have heard the si ngi ng. See now what a condi ti on I am i n! Weep wi th me,
and weep for me, those of you who can so control your i nward feel i ngs that good
resul ts al ways come forth. As for you who do not act thi s way at al l , such thi ngs do
not concern you. But do thou, O Lord, my God, gi ve ear; l ook and see, and have
mercy upon me; and heal me--thou, i n whose si ght I am become an eni gma to
mysel f; thi s i tsel f i s my weakness.
CHAPTER XXXI V
51. There remai n the del i ghts of these eyes of my fl esh, about whi ch I must
make my confessi on i n the heari ng of the ears of thy templ e, brotherl y and pi ous
ears. Thus I wi l l fi ni sh the l i st of the temptati ons of carnal appeti te whi ch sti l l
assai l me--groani ng and desi ri ng as I am to be cl othed upon wi th my house from
heaven.
372
The eyes del i ght i n fai r and vari ed forms, and bri ght and pl easi ng col ors. Let
these not take possessi on of my soul ! Rather l et God possess i t, he who di dst make
al l these thi ngs very good i ndeed. He i s sti l l my good, and not these. The pl easures
of si ght affect me al l the ti me I am awake. There i s no rest from them gi ven me, as
there i s from the voi ces of mel ody, whi ch I can occasi onal l y fi nd i n si l ence. For
dayl i ght, that queen of the col ors, fl oods al l that we l ook upon everywhere I go
371
Cf. the evi dence for Augusti ne's i nterest and profi ci ency i n musi c i n hi s essay De musica, wri tten
a decade earl i er.
372
Cf. 2 Cor. 5:2.
duri ng the day. I t fl i ts about me i n mani fol d forms and soothes me even when I am
busy about other thi ngs, not noti ci ng i t. And i t presents i tsel f so forci bl y that i f i t i s
suddenl y wi thdrawn i t i s l ooked for wi th l ongi ng, and i f i t i s l ong absent the mi nd i s
saddened.
52. O Li ght, whi ch Tobi t saw even wi th hi s eyes cl osed i n bl i ndness, when he
taught hi s son the way of l i fe--and went before hi m hi msel f i n the steps of l ove and
never went astray
373
; or that Li ght whi ch I saac saw when hi s fl eshl y eyes were
di m, so that he coul d not see
374
because of ol d age, and i t was permi tted hi m
unknowi ngl y to bl ess hi s sons, but i n the bl essi ng of them to know them; or that
Li ght whi ch Jacob saw, when he too, bl i nd i n ol d age yet wi th an enl i ghtened heart,
threw l i ght on the nati on of men yet to come--presi gni fi ed i n the persons of hi s own
sons--and l ai d hi s hands mysti cal l y crossed upon hi s grandchi l dren by Joseph (not
as thei r father, who saw them from wi thout, but as though he were wi thi n them),
and di sti ngui shed them ari ght
375
: thi s i s the true Li ght; i t i s one, and al l are one
who see and l ove i t.
But that corporeal l i ght, of whi ch I was speaki ng, seasons the l i fe of the worl d
for her bl i nd l overs wi th a tempti ng and fatal sweetness. Those who know how to
prai se thee for i t, O God, Creator of Us Al l , take i t up i n thy hymn,
376
and are not
taken over by i t i n thei r sl eep. Such a man I desi re to be. I resi st the seducti ons of
my eyes, l est my feet be entangl ed as I go forward i n thy way; and I rai se my
i nvi si bl e eyes to thee, that thou woul dst be pl eased to pl uck my feet out of the
net.
377
Thou dost conti nual l y pl uck them out, for they are easi l y ensnared. Thou
ceasest not to pl uck them out, but I constantl y remai n fast i n the snares set al l
around me. However, thou who keepest I srael shal l nei ther sl umber nor sl eep.
378
53. What numberl ess thi ngs there are: products of the vari ous arts and
manufactures i n our cl othes, shoes, vessel s, and al l such thi ngs; besi des such thi ngs
as pi ctures and statuary--and al l these far beyond the necessary and moderate use
of them or thei r si gni fi cance for the l i fe of pi ety--whi ch men have added for the
del i ght of the eye, copyi ng the outward forms of the thi ngs they make; but i nwardl y
forsaki ng Hi m by whom they were made and destroyi ng what they themsel ves have
been made to be!
And I , O my God and my Joy, I al so rai se a hymn to thee for al l these thi ngs,
and offer a sacri fi ce of prai se to my Sancti fi er, because those beauti ful forms whi ch
pass through the medi um of the human soul i nto the arti sts hands come from that
beauty whi ch i s above our mi nds, whi ch my soul si ghs for day and ni ght. But the
craftsmen and devotees of these outward beauti es di scover the norm by whi ch they
judge them from that hi gher beauty, but not the measure of thei r use. Sti l l , even i f
they do not see i t, i t i s there neverthel ess, to guard them from wanderi ng astray,
and to keep thei r strength for thee, and not di ssi pate i t i n del i ghts that pass i nto
boredom. And for mysel f, though I can see and understand thi s, I am sti l l entangl ed
i n my own course wi th such beauty, but thou wi l t rescue me, O Lord, thou wi l t
rescue me, for thy l ovi ng-ki ndness i s before my eyes.
379
For I am capti vated i n my
weakness but thou i n thy mercy dost rescue me: someti mes wi thout my knowi ng i t,
373
Cf. Tobi t, chs. 2 to 4.
374
Gen. 27:1; cf. Augusti ne's Sermon I V, 20:21f.
375
Cf. Gen., ch. 48.
376
Agai n, Ambrose, Deus, creator omnium, an obvi ous favori te of Augusti ne's. See above, Bk. I X, Ch.
XI I , 32.
377
Ps. 25:15.
378
Ps. 121:4.
379
Ps. 26:3.
because I had onl y l i ghtl y fal l en; at other ti mes, the rescue i s pai nful because I was
stuck fast.
CHAPTER XXXV
54. Besi des thi s there i s yet another form of temptati on sti l l more compl ex i n
i ts peri l . For i n addi ti on to the fl eshl y appeti te whi ch stri ves for the grati fi cati on of
al l senses and pl easures--i n whi ch i ts sl aves peri sh because they separate
themsel ves from thee--there i s al so a certai n vai n and curi ous l ongi ng i n the soul ,
rooted i n the same bodi l y senses, whi ch i s cl oaked under the name of knowl edge and
l earni ng; not havi ng pl easure i n the fl esh, but stri vi ng for new experi ences through
the fl esh. Thi s l ongi ng--si nce i ts ori gi n i s our appeti te for l earni ng, and si nce the
si ght i s the chi ef of our senses i n the acqui si ti on of knowl edge--i s cal l ed i n the di vi ne
l anguage the l ust of the eyes.
380
For seei ng i s a functi on of the eyes; yet we al so
use thi s word for the other senses as wel l , when we exerci se them i n the search for
knowl edge. We do not say, Li sten how i t gl ows, Smel l how i t gl i stens, Taste how
i t shi nes, or Feel how i t fl ashes, si nce al l of these are sai d to be seen. And we do
not si mpl y say, See how i t shi nes, whi ch onl y the eyes can percei ve; but we al so
say, See how i t sounds, see how i t smel l s, see how i t tastes, see how hard i t i s.
Thus, as we sai d before, the whol e round of sensory experi ence i s cal l ed the l ust of
the eyes because the functi on of seei ng, i n whi ch the eyes have the pri nci pal rol e, i s
appl i ed by anal ogy to the other senses when they are seeki ng after any ki nd of
knowl edge.
55. From thi s, then, one can the more cl earl y di sti ngui sh whether i t i s
pl easure or curi osi ty that i s bei ng pursued by the senses. For pl easure pursues
objects that are beauti ful , mel odi ous, fragrant, savory, soft. But curi osi ty, seeki ng
new experi ences, wi l l even seek out the contrary of these, not wi th the purpose of
experi enci ng the di scomfort that often accompani es them, but out of a passi on for
experi menti ng and knowl edge.
For what pl easure i s there i n the si ght of a l acerated corpse, whi ch makes you
shudder? And yet i f there i s one l yi ng cl ose by we fl ock to i t, as i f to be made sad and
pal e. Peopl e fear l est they shoul d see such a thi ng even i n sl eep, just as they woul d
i f, when awake, someone compel l ed them to go and see i t or i f some rumor of i ts
beauty had attracted them.
Thi s i s al so the case wi th the other senses; i t woul d be tedi ous to pursue a
compl ete anal ysi s of i t. Thi s mal ady of curi osi ty i s the reason for al l those strange
si ghts exhi bi ted i n the theater. I t i s al so the reason why we proceed to search out
the secret powers of nature--those whi ch have nothi ng to do wi th our desti ny--whi ch
do not profi t us to know about, and concerni ng whi ch men desi re to know onl y for
the sake of knowi ng. And i t i s wi th thi s same moti ve of perverted curi osi ty for
knowl edge that we consul t the magi cal arts. Even i n rel i gi on i tsel f, thi s prompti ng
dri ves us to make tri al of God when si gns and wonders are eagerl y asked of hi m--
not desi red for any savi ng end, but onl y to make tri al of hi m.
56. I n such a wi l derness so vast, crammed wi th snares and dangers, behol d
how many of them I have l opped off and cast from my heart, as thou, O God of my
sal vati on, hast enabl ed me to do. And yet, when woul d I dare to say, si nce so many
thi ngs of thi s sort sti l l buzz around our dai l y l i ves--when woul d I dare to say that no
such moti ve prompts my seei ng or creates a vai n curi osi ty i n me? I t i s true that now
the theaters never attract me, nor do I now care to i nqui re about the courses of the
stars, and my soul has never sought answers from the departed spi ri ts. Al l
380
1 John 2:16.
sacri l egi ous oaths I abhor. And yet, O Lord my God, to whom I owe al l humbl e and
si ngl ehearted servi ce, wi th what subtl e suggesti on the enemy sti l l i nfl uences me to
requi re some si gn from thee! But by our Ki ng, and by Jerusal em, our pure and
chaste homel and, I beseech thee that where any consenti ng to such thoughts i s now
far from me, so may i t al ways be farther and farther. And when I entreat thee for
the sal vati on of any man, the end I ai m at i s somethi ng more than the entreati ng:
l et i t be that as thou dost what thou wi l t, thou dost al so gi ve me the grace wi l l i ngl y
to fol l ow thy l ead.
57. Now, real l y, i n how many of the most mi nute and tri vi al thi ngs my
curi osi ty i s sti l l dai l y tempted, and who can keep the tal l y on how often I succumb?
How often, when peopl e are tel l i ng i dl e tal es, we begi n by tol erati ng them l est we
shoul d gi ve offense to the sensi ti ve; and then gradual l y we come to l i sten wi l l i ngl y! I
do not nowadays go to the ci rcus to see a dog chase a rabbi t, but i f by chance I pass
such a race i n the fi el ds, i t qui te easi l y di stracts me even from some seri ous thought
and draws me after i t--not that I turn asi de wi th my horse, but wi th the i ncl i nati on
of my mi nd. And unl ess, by showi ng me my weakness, thou dost speedi l y warn me
to ri se above such a si ght to thee by a del i berate act of thought--or el se to despi se
the whol e thi ng and pass i t by--then I become absorbed i n the si ght, vai n creature
that I am.
How i s i t that when I am si tti ng at home a l i zard catchi ng fl i es, or a spi der
entangl i ng them as they fl y i nto her webs, oftenti mes arrests me? I s the feel i ng of
curi osi ty not the same just because these are such ti ny creatures? From them I
proceed to prai se thee, the wonderful Creator and Di sposer of al l thi ngs; but i t i s not
thi s that fi rst attracts my attenti on. I t i s one thi ng to get up qui ckl y and another
thi ng not to fal l --and of both such thi ngs my l i fe i s ful l and my onl y hope i s i n thy
exceedi ng great mercy. For when thi s heart of ours i s made the depot of such thi ngs
and i s overrun by the throng of these aboundi ng vani ti es, then our prayers are often
i nterrupted and di sturbed by them. Even whi l e we are i n thy presence and di rect
the voi ce of our hearts to thy ears, such a great busi ness as thi s i s broken off by the
i nroads of I know not what i dl e thoughts.
CHAPTER XXXVI
58. Shal l we, then, al so reckon thi s vai n curi osi ty among the thi ngs that are
to be but l i ghtl y esteemed? Shal l anythi ng restore us to hope except thy compl ete
mercy si nce thou hast begun to change us? Thou knowest to what extent thou hast
al ready changed me, for fi rst of al l thou di dst heal me of the l ust for vi ndi cati ng
mysel f, so that thou mi ghtest then forgi ve al l my remai ni ng i ni qui ti es and heal al l
my di seases, and redeem my l i fe from corrupti on and crown me wi th l ovi ng-
ki ndness and tender merci es, and sati sfy my desi res wi th good thi ngs.
381
I t was
thou who di dst restrai n my pri de wi th thy fear, and bowed my neck to thy yoke.
382
And now I bear the yoke and i t i s l i ght to me, because thou di dst promi se i t to be
so, and hast made i t to be so. And so i n truth i t was, though I knew i t not when I
feared to take i t up.
59. But, O Lord--thou who al one rei gnest wi thout pri de, because thou al one
art the true Lord, who hast no Lord--has thi s thi rd ki nd of temptati on l eft me, or
can i t l eave me duri ng thi s l i fe: the desi re to be feared and l oved of men, wi th no
other vi ew than that I may fi nd i n i t a joy that i s no joy? I t i s, rather, a wretched l i fe
and an unseeml y ostentati on. I t i s a speci al reason why we do not l ove thee, nor
381
Cf. Ps. 103:3-5.
382
Cf. Matt. 11:30.
devotedl y fear thee. Therefore thou resi stest the proud but gi vest grace to the
humbl e.
383
Thou thunderest down on the ambi ti ous desi gns of the worl d, and the
foundati ons of the hi l l s trembl e.
384
And yet certai n offi ces i n human soci ety requi re the offi cehol der to be l oved
and feared of men, and through thi s the adversary of our true bl essedness presses
hard upon us, scatteri ng everywhere hi s snares of wel l done, wel l done; so that
whi l e we are eagerl y pi cki ng them up, we may be caught unawares and spl i t off our
joy from thy truth and fi x i t on the decei ts of men. I n thi s way we come to take
pl easure i n bei ng l oved and feared, not for thy sake but i n thy stead. By such means
as thi s, the adversary makes men l i ke hi msel f, that he may have them as hi s own,
not i n the harmony of l ove, but i n the fel l owshi p of puni shment--the one who
aspi red to exal t hi s throne i n the north,
385
that i n the darkness and the col d men
mi ght have to serve hi m, mi mi cki ng thee i n perverse and di storted ways.
But see, O Lord, we are thy l i ttl e fl ock. Possess us, stretch thy wi ngs above
us, and l et us take refuge under them. Be thou our gl ory; l et us be l oved for thy
sake, and l et thy word be feared i n us. Those who desi re to be commended by the
men whom thou condemnest wi l l not be defended by men when thou judgest, nor
wi l l they be del i vered when thou dost condemn them. But when--not as a si nner i s
prai sed i n the wi cked desi res of hi s soul nor when the unri ghteous man i s bl essed i n
hi s unri ghteousness--a man i s prai sed for some gi ft that thou hast gi ven hi m, and
he i s more grati fi ed at the prai se for hi msel f than because he possesses the gi ft for
whi ch he i s prai sed, such a one i s prai sed whi l e thou dost condemn hi m. I n such a
case the one who prai sed i s trul y better than the one who was prai sed. For the gi ft
of God i n man was pl easi ng to the one, whi l e the other was better pl eased wi th the
gi ft of man than wi th the gi ft of God.
CHAPTER XXXVI I
60. By these temptati ons we are dai l y tri ed, O Lord; we are tri ed unceasi ngl y.
Our dai l y furnace i s the human tongue.
386
And al so i n thi s respect thou
commandest us to be conti nent. Gi ve what thou commandest and command what
thou wi l t. I n thi s matter, thou knowest the groans of my heart and the ri vers of my
eyes, for I am not abl e to know for certai n how far I am cl ean of thi s pl ague; and I
stand i n great fear of my secret faul ts,
387
whi ch thy eyes percei ve, though mi ne do
not. For i n respect of the pl easures of my fl esh and of i dl e curi osi ty, I see how far I
have been abl e to hol d my mi nd i n check when I abstai n from them ei ther by
vol untary act of the wi l l or because they si mpl y are not at hand; for then I can
i nqui re of mysel f how much more or l ess frustrati ng i t i s to me not to have them.
Thi s i s al so true about ri ches, whi ch are sought for i n order that they may mi ni ster
to one of these three l usts, or two, or the whol e compl ex of them. The mi nd i s abl e
to see cl earl y i f, when i t has them, i t despi ses them so that they may be cast asi de
and i t may prove i tsel f.
But i f we desi re to test our power of doi ng wi thout prai se, must we then l i ve
wi ckedl y or l ead a l i fe so atroci ous and abandoned that everyone who knows us wi l l
detest us? What greater madness than thi s can be ei ther sai d or concei ved? And yet
i f prai se, both by custom and ri ght, i s the compani on of a good l i fe and of good
383
1 Peter 5:5.
384
Cf. Ps. 18:7, 13.
385
Cf. I sa. 14:12-14.
386
Cf. Prov. 27:21.
387
Cf. Ps. 19:12.
works, we shoul d as l i ttl e forgo i ts compani onshi p as the good l i fe i tsel f. But unl ess
a thi ng i s absent I do not know whether I shoul d be contented or troubl ed at havi ng
to do wi thout i t.
61. What i s i t, then, that I am confessi ng to thee, O Lord, concerni ng thi s sort
of temptati on? What el se, than that I am del i ghted wi th prai se, but more wi th the
truth i tsel f than wi th prai se. For i f I were to have any choi ce whether, i f I were mad
or utterl y i n the wrong, I woul d prefer to be prai sed by al l men or, i f I were steadi l y
and ful l y confi dent i n the truth, woul d prefer to be bl amed by al l , I see whi ch I
shoul d choose. Yet I wi sh I were unwi l l i ng that the approval of others shoul d add
anythi ng to my joy for any good I have. Yet I admi t that i t does i ncrease i t; and,
more than that, di sprai se di mi ni shes i t. Then, when I am di sturbed over thi s
wretchedness of mi ne, an excuse presents i tsel f to me, the val ue of whi ch thou
knowest, O God, for i t renders me uncertai n. For si nce i t i s not onl y conti nence that
thou hast enjoi ned on us--that i s, what thi ngs to hol d back our l ove from--but
ri ghteousness as wel l --that i s, what to bestow our l ove upon--and hast wi shed us to
l ove not onl y thee, but al so our nei ghbor, i t often turns out that when I am grati fi ed
by i ntel l i gent prai se I seem to mysel f to be grati fi ed by the competence or i nsi ght of
my nei ghbor; or, on the other hand, I am sorry for the defect i n hi m when I hear hi m
di sprai se ei ther what he does not understand or what i s good. For I am someti mes
gri eved at the prai se I get, ei ther when those thi ngs that di spl ease me i n mysel f are
prai sed i n me, or when l esser and tri fl i ng goods are val ued more hi ghl y than they
shoul d be. But, agai n, how do I know whether I feel thi s way because I am unwi l l i ng
that he who prai ses me shoul d di ffer from me concerni ng mysel f not because I am
moved wi th any consi derati on for hi m, but because the good thi ngs that pl ease me
i n mysel f are more pl easi ng to me when they al so pl ease another? For i n a way, I
am not prai sed when my judgment of mysel f i s not prai sed, si nce ei ther those thi ngs
whi ch are di spl easi ng to me are prai sed, or those thi ngs whi ch are l ess pl easi ng to
me are more prai sed. Am I not, then, qui te uncertai n of mysel f i n thi s respect?
62. Behol d, O Truth, i t i s i n thee that I see that I ought not to be moved at my
own prai ses for my own sake, but for the sake of my nei ghbors good. And whether
thi s i s actual l y my way, I trul y do not know. On thi s score I know l ess of mysel f
than thou dost. I beseech thee now, O my God, to reveal mysel f to me al so, that I
may confess to my brethren, who are to pray for me i n those matters where I fi nd
mysel f weak.
Let me once agai n exami ne mysel f the more di l i gentl y. I f, i n my own prai se, I
am moved wi th concern for my nei ghbor, why am I l ess moved i f some other man i s
unjustl y di sprai sed than when i t happens to me? Why am I more i rri tated at that
reproach whi ch i s cast on me than at one whi ch i s, wi th equal i njusti ce, cast upon
another i n my presence? Am I i gnorant of thi s al so? Or i s i t sti l l true that I am
decei vi ng mysel f, and do not keep the truth before thee i n my heart and tongue? Put
such madness far from me, O Lord, l est my mouth be to me the oi l of si nners, to
anoi nt my head.
388
CHAPTER XXXVI I I
63. I am needy and poor.
389
Sti l l , I am better when i n secret groani ngs I
di spl ease mysel f and seek thy mercy unti l what i s l acki ng i n me i s renewed and
made compl ete for that peace whi ch the eye of the proud does not know. The reports
that come from the mouth and from acti ons known to men have i n them a most
388
Cf. Ps. 141:5.
389
Ps. 109:22.
peri l ous temptati on to the l ove of prai se. Thi s l ove bui l ds up a certai n compl acency
i n ones own excel l ency, and then goes around col l ecti ng sol i ci ted compl i ments. I t
tempts me, even when I i nwardl y reprove mysel f for i t, and thi s preci sel y because i t
i s reproved. For a man may often gl ory vai nl y i n the very scorn of vai ngl ory--and i n
thi s case i t i s not any l onger the scorn of vai ngl ory i n whi ch he gl ori es, for he does
not trul y despi se i t when he i nwardl y gl ori es i n i t.
CHAPTER XXXI X
64. Wi thi n us there i s yet another evi l ari si ng from the same sort of
temptati on. By i t they become empty who pl ease themsel ves i n themsel ves,
al though they do not pl ease or di spl ease or ai m at pl easi ng others. But i n pl easi ng
themsel ves they di spl ease thee very much, not merel y taki ng pl easure i n thi ngs
that are not good as i f they were good, but taki ng pl easure i n thy good thi ngs as i f
they were thei r own; or even as i f they were thi ne but sti l l as i f they had recei ved
them through thei r own meri t; or even as i f they had them through thy grace, sti l l
wi thout thi s grace wi th thei r fri ends, but as i f they envi ed that grace to others. I n
al l these and si mi l ar peri l s and l abors, thou percei vest the agi tati on of my heart,
and I woul d rather feel my wounds bei ng cured by thee than not i nfl i cted by me on
mysel f.
CHAPTER XL
65. Where hast thou not accompani ed me, O Truth, teachi ng me both what to
avoi d and what to desi re, when I have submi tted to thee what I coul d understand
about matters here bel ow, and have sought thy counsel about them?
Wi th my external senses I have vi ewed the worl d as I was abl e and have
noti ced the l i fe whi ch my body deri ves from me and from these senses of mi ne. From
that stage I advanced i nwardl y i nto the recesses of my memory--the mani fol d
chambers of my mi nd, marvel ousl y ful l of unmeasured weal th. And I refl ected on
thi s and was afrai d, and coul d understand none of these thi ngs wi thout thee and
found thee to be none of them. Nor di d I mysel f di scover these thi ngs--I who went
over them al l and l abored to di sti ngui sh and to val ue everythi ng accordi ng to i ts
di gni ty, accepti ng some thi ngs upon the report of my senses and questi oni ng about
others whi ch I thought to be rel ated to my i nner sel f, di sti ngui shi ng and numberi ng
the reporters themsel ves; and i n that vast storehouse of my memory, i nvesti gati ng
some thi ngs, deposi ti ng other thi ngs, taki ng out sti l l others. Nei ther was I mysel f
when I di d thi s--that i s, that abi l i ty of mi ne by whi ch I di d i t--nor was i t thou, for
thou art that never-fai l i ng l i ght from whi ch I took counsel about them al l ; whether
they were what they were, and what was thei r real val ue. I n al l thi s I heard thee
teachi ng and commandi ng me. And thi s I often do--and thi s i s a del i ght to me--and
as far as I can get rel i ef from my necessary duti es, I resort to thi s ki nd of pl easure.
But i n al l these thi ngs whi ch I revi ew when I consul t thee, I sti l l do not fi nd a
secure pl ace for my soul save i n thee, i n whom my scattered members may be
gathered together and nothi ng of me escape from thee. And someti mes thou
i ntroducest me to a most rare and i nward feel i ng, an i nexpl i cabl e sweetness. I f thi s
were to come to perfecti on i n me I do not know to what poi nt l i fe mi ght not then
arri ve. But sti l l , by these wretched wei ghts of mi ne, I rel apse i nto these common
thi ngs, and am sucked i n by my ol d customs and am hel d. I sorrow much, yet I am
sti l l cl osel y hel d. To thi s extent, then, the burden of habi t presses us down. I can
exi st i n thi s fashi on but I do not wi sh to do so. I n that other way I wi sh I were, but
cannot be--i n both ways I am wretched.
CHAPTER XLI
66. And now I have thus consi dered the i nfi rmi ti es of my si ns, under the
headi ngs of the three major l usts, and I have cal l ed thy ri ght hand to my ai d. For
wi th a wounded heart I have seen thy bri ghtness, and havi ng been beaten back I
cri ed: Who can attai n to i t? I am cut off from before thy eyes.
390
Thou art the
Truth, who presi dest over al l thi ngs, but I , because of my greed, di d not wi sh to l ose
thee. But sti l l , al ong wi th thee, I wi shed al so to possess a l i e--just as no one wi shes
to l i e i n such a way as to be i gnorant of what i s true. By thi s I l ost thee, for thou wi l t
not condescend to be enjoyed al ong wi th a l i e.
CHAPTER XLI I
67. Whom coul d I fi nd to reconci l e me to thee? Shoul d I have approached the
angel s? What ki nd of prayer? What ki nd of ri tes? Many who were stri vi ng to return
to thee and were not abl e of themsel ves have, I am tol d, tri ed thi s and have fal l en
i nto a l ongi ng for curi ous vi si ons and deserved to be decei ved. Bei ng exal ted, they
sought thee i n thei r pri de of l earni ng, and they thrust themsel ves forward rather
than beati ng thei r breasts.
391
And so by a l i keness of heart, they drew to themsel ves
the pri nces of the ai r,
392
thei r conspi rators and compani ons i n pri de, by whom they
were decei ved by the power of magi c. Thus they sought a medi ator by whom they
mi ght be cl eansed, but there was none. For the medi ator they sought was the devi l ,
di sgui si ng hi msel f as an angel of l i ght.
393
And he al l ured thei r proud fl esh the more
because he had no fl eshl y body.
They were mortal and si nful , but thou, O Lord, to whom they arrogantl y
sought to be reconci l ed, art i mmortal and si nl ess. But a medi ator between God and
man ought to have somethi ng i n hi m l i ke God and somethi ng i n hi m l i ke man, l est
i n bei ng l i ke man he shoul d be far from God, or i f onl y l i ke God he shoul d be far
from man, and so shoul d not be a medi ator. That decei tful medi ator, then, by whom,
by thy secret judgment, human pri de deserves to be decei ved, had one thi ng i n
common wi th man, that i s, hi s si n. I n another respect, he woul d seem to have
somethi ng i n common wi th God, for not bei ng cl othed wi th the mortal i ty of the
fl esh, he coul d boast that he was i mmortal . But si nce the wages of si n i s death,
394
what he real l y has i n common wi th men i s that, together wi th them, he i s
condemned to death.
CHAPTER XLI I I
68. But the true Medi ator, whom thou i n thy secret mercy hast reveal ed to
the humbl e, and hast sent to them so that through hi s exampl e they al so mi ght
l earn the same humi l i ty--that Medi ator between God and man, the man Chri st
Jesus,
395
appeared between mortal si nners and the i mmortal Just One. He was
mortal as men are mortal ; he was ri ghteous as God i s ri ghteous; and because the
reward of ri ghteousness i s l i fe and peace, he coul d, through hi s ri ghteousness uni ted
wi th God, cancel the death of justi fi ed si nners, whi ch he was wi l l i ng to have i n
390
Ps. 31:22.
391
Cf. the parabl e of the Phari see and the Publ i can, Luke 18:9-14.
392
Cf. Eph. 2:2.
393
2 Cor. 11:14.
394
Rom. 6:23.
395
1 Ti m. 2:5.
common wi th them. Hence he was mani fested to hol y men of ol d, to the end that
they mi ght be saved through fai th i n hi s Passi on to come, even as we through fai th
i n hi s Passi on whi ch i s past. As man he was Medi ator, but as the Word he was not
somethi ng i n between the two; because he was equal to God, and God wi th God,
and, wi th the Hol y Spi ri t, one God.
69. How hast thou l oved us, O good Father, who di dst not spare thy onl y Son,
but di dst del i ver hi m up for us wi cked ones!
396
How hast thou l oved us, for whom he
who di d not count i t robbery to be equal wi th thee became obedi ent unto death,
even the death of the cross
397
! He al one was free among the dead.
398
He al one
had power to l ay down hi s l i fe and power to take i t up agai n, and for us he became
to thee both Vi ctor and Vi cti m; and Vi ctor because he was the Vi cti m. For us, he
was to thee both Pri est and Sacri fi ce, and Pri est because he was the Sacri fi ce. Out
of sl aves, he maketh us thy sons, because he was born of thee and di d serve us.
Ri ghtl y, then, i s my hope fi xed strongl y on hi m, that thou wi l t heal al l my
di seases
399
through hi m, who si tteth at thy ri ght hand and maketh i ntercessi on for
us.
400
Otherwi se I shoul d utterl y despai r. For my i nfi rmi ti es are many and great;
i ndeed, they are very many and very great. But thy medi ci ne i s sti l l greater.
Otherwi se, we mi ght thi nk that thy word was removed from uni on wi th man, and
despai r of oursel ves, i f i t had not been that he was made fl esh and dwel t among
us.
401
70. Terri fi ed by my si ns and the l oad of my mi sery, I had resol ved i n my heart
and consi dered fl i ght i nto the wi l derness. But thou di dst forbi d me, and thou di dst
strengthen me, sayi ng that si nce Chri st di ed for al l , they who l i ve shoul d not
henceforth l i ve unto themsel ves, but unto hi m who di ed for them.
402
Behol d, O
Lord, I cast al l my care on thee, that I may l i ve and behol d wondrous thi ngs out of
thy l aw.
403
Thou knowest my i ncompetence and my i nfi rmi ti es; teach me and heal
me. Thy onl y Son--he i n whom are hi d al l the treasures of wi sdom and
knowl edge
404
--hath redeemed me wi th hi s bl ood. Let not the proud speak evi l of
me, because I keep my ransom before my mi nd, and eat and dri nk and share my
food and dri nk. For, bei ng poor, I desi re to be sati sfi ed from hi m, together wi th
those who eat and are sati sfi ed: and they shal l prai se the Lord that seek Hi m.
405
396
Cf. Rom. 8:32.
397
Phi l . 2:6-8.
398
Cf. Ps. 88:5; see Ps. 87:6 (Vul gate).
399
Ps. 103:3.
400
Cf. Rom. 8:34.
401
John 1:14.
402
2 Cor. 5:15.
403
Ps. 119:18.
404
Col . 2:3.
405
Cf. Ps. 21:27 (Vul gate).
BOOK ELEVEN
The eternal Creator and the Creation in time. Augustine ties together his memory of
his past life, his present experience, and his ardent desire to comprehend the mystery
of creation. This leads him to the questions of the mode and time of creation. He
ponders the mode of creation and shows that it was de ni hi l o and involved no
alteration in the being of God. He then considers the question of the beginning of the
world and time and shows that time and creation are cotemporal. But what is time?
To this Augustine devotes a brilliant analysis of the subjectivity of time and the
relation of all temporal process to the abiding eternity of God. From this, he prepares
to turn to a detailed interpretation of Gen. 1:1, 2.
CHAPTER I
1. I s i t possi bl e, O Lord, that, si nce thou art i n eterni ty, thou art i gnorant of
what I am sayi ng to thee? Or, dost thou see i n ti me an event at the ti me i t occurs? I f
not, then why am I recounti ng such a tal e of thi ngs to thee? Certai nl y not i n order
to acquai nt thee wi th them through me; but, i nstead, that through them I may sti r
up my own l ove and the l ove of my readers toward thee, so that al l may say, Great
i s the Lord and greatl y to be prai sed. I have sai d thi s before
406
and wi l l say i t
agai n: For l ove of thy l ove I do i t. So al so we pray--and yet Truth tel l s us, Your
Father knoweth what thi ngs you need before you ask hi m.
407
Consequentl y, we l ay
bare our feel i ngs before thee, that, through our confessi ng to thee our pl i ght and thy
merci es toward us, thou mayest go on to free us al together, as thou hast al ready
begun; and that we may cease to be wretched i n oursel ves and bl essed i n thee--si nce
thou hast cal l ed us to be poor i n spi ri t, meek, mourners, hungeri ng and athi rst for
ri ghteousness, merci ful and pure i n heart.
408
Thus I have tol d thee many thi ngs, as
I coul d fi nd abi l i ty and wi l l to do so, si nce i t was thy wi l l i n the fi rst pl ace that I
shoul d confess to thee, O Lord my God--for Thou art good and thy mercy endureth
forever.
409
CHAPTER I I
2. But how l ong woul d i t take for the voi ce of my pen to tel l enough of thy
exhortati ons and of al l thy terrors and comforts and l eadi ngs by whi ch thou di dst
bri ng me to preach thy Word and to admi ni ster thy sacraments to thy peopl e? And
even i f I coul d do thi s suffi ci entl y, the drops of ti me
410
are very preci ous to me and I
have for a l ong ti me been burni ng wi th the desi re to medi tate on thy l aw, and to
confess i n thy presence my knowl edge and i gnorance of i t--from the fi rst streaks of
thy l i ght i n my mi nd and the remai ni ng darkness, unti l my weakness shal l be
swal l owed up i n thy strength. And I do not wi sh to see those hours drai ned i nto
anythi ng el se whi ch I can fi nd free from the necessary care of the body, the exerci se
406
I n the very fi rst sentence of Confessions, Bk. I , Ch. I . Here we have a basi c and recurrent moti f of
the Confessions from begi nni ng to end: the cel ebrati on and prai se of the greatness and goodness of
God--Creator and Redeemer. The repeti ti on of i t here connects thi s concl udi ng secti on of the
Confessions, Bks. XI -XI I I , wi th the precedi ng part.
407
Matt. 6:8.
408
The "vi rtues" of the Beati tudes, the reward for whi ch i s bl essedness; cf. Matt. 5:1-11.
409
Ps. 118:1; cf. Ps. 136.
410
An i nteresti ng symbol of ti me's ceasel ess passage; the reference i s to a water cl ock (clepsydra).
of the mi nd, and the servi ce we owe to our fel l ow men--and what we gi ve even i f we
do not owe i t.
3. O Lord my God, hear my prayer and l et thy mercy attend my l ongi ng. I t
does not burn for i tsel f al one but l ongs as wel l to serve the cause of fraternal l ove.
Thou seest i n my heart that thi s i s so. Let me offer the servi ce of my mi nd and my
tongue--and gi ve me what I may i n turn offer back to thee. For I am needy and
poor; thou art ri ch to al l who cal l upon thee--thou who, i n thy freedom from care,
carest for us. Tri m away from my l i ps, i nwardl y and outwardl y, al l rashness and
l yi ng. Let thy Scri ptures be my chaste del i ght. Let me not be decei ved i n them, nor
decei ve others from them. O Lord, hear and pi ty! O Lord my God, l i ght of the bl i nd,
strength of the weak--and al so the l i ght of those who see and the strength of the
strong--hearken to my soul and hear i t cryi ng from the depths.
411
Unl ess thy ears
attend us even i n the depths, where shoul d we go? To whom shoul d we cry?
Thi ne i s the day and the ni ght i s thi ne as wel l .
412
At thy bi ddi ng the
moments fl y by. Grant me i n them, then, an i nterval for my medi tati ons on the
hi dden thi ngs of thy l aw, nor cl ose the door of thy l aw agai nst us who knock. Thou
hast not wi l l ed that the deep secrets of al l those pages shoul d have been wri tten i n
vai n. Those forests are not wi thout thei r stags whi ch keep reti red wi thi n them,
rangi ng and wal ki ng and feedi ng, l yi ng down and rumi nati ng.
413
Perfect me, O
Lord, and reveal thei r secrets to me. Behol d, thy voi ce i s my joy; thy voi ce surpasses
i n abundance of del i ghts. Gi ve me what I l ove, for I do l ove i t. And thi s too i s thy
gi ft. Abandon not thy gi fts and despi se not thy grass whi ch thi rsts for thee.
414
Let
me confess to thee everythi ng that I shal l have found i n thy books and l et me hear
the voi ce of thy prai se.
415
Let me dri nk from thee and consi der the wondrous
thi ngs out of thy l aw
416
--from the very begi nni ng, when thou madest heaven and
earth, and thenceforward to the everl asti ng rei gn of thy Hol y Ci ty wi th thee.
4. O Lord, have mercy on me and hear my peti ti on. For my prayer i s not for
earthl y thi ngs, nei ther gol d nor si l ver and preci ous stones, nor gorgeous apparel ,
nor honors and power, nor fl eshl y pl easures, nor of bodi l y necessi ti es i n thi s l i fe of
our pi l gri mage: al l of these thi ngs are added to those who seek thy Ki ngdom and
thy ri ghteousness.
417
Observe, O God, from whence comes my desi re. The unri ghteous have tol d me
of del i ghts but not such as those i n thy l aw, O Lord. Behol d, thi s i s the spri ng of my
desi re. See, O Father, l ook and see--and approve! Let i t be pl easi ng i n thy mercys
si ght that I shoul d fi nd favor wi th thee--that the secret thi ngs of thy Word may be
opened to me when I knock. I beg thi s of thee by our Lord Jesus Chri st, thy Son, the
Man of thy ri ght hand, the Son of Man; whom thou madest strong for thy purpose as
Medi ator between thee and us; through whom thou di dst seek us when we were not
seeki ng thee, but di dst seek us so that we mi ght seek thee; thy Word, through whom
thou madest al l thi ngs, and me among them; thy onl y Son, through whom thou hast
cal l ed thy fai thful peopl e to adopti on, and me among them. I beseech i t of thee
through hi m who si tteth at thy ri ght hand and maketh i ntercessi on for us, i n whom
are hi d al l treasures of wi sdom and knowl edge.
418
I t i s he I seek i n thy books.
411
Cf. Ps. 130:1, De profundis.
412
Ps. 74:16.
413
Thi s metaphor i s probabl y from Ps. 29:9.
414
A repeti ti on of the metaphor above, Bk. I X, Ch. VI I , 16.
415
Ps. 26:7.
416
Ps. 119:18.
417
Cf. Matt. 6:33.
418
Col . 2:3.
Moses wrote of hi m. He tel l s us so hi msel f; the Truth tel l s us so.
CHAPTER I I I
5. Let me hear and understand how i n the begi nni ng thou madest heaven and
earth.
419
Moses wrote of thi s; he wrote and passed on--movi ng from thee to thee--
and he i s now no l onger before me. I f he were, I woul d l ay hol d on hi m and ask hi m
and entreat hi m sol emnl y that i n thy name he woul d open out these thi ngs to me,
and I woul d l end my bodi l y ears to the sounds that came forth out of hi s mouth. I f,
however, he spoke i n the Hebrew l anguage, the sounds woul d beat on my senses i n
vai n, and nothi ng woul d touch my mi nd; but i f he spoke i n Lati n, I woul d
understand what he sai d. But how shoul d I then know whether what he sai d was
true? I f I knew even thi s much, woul d i t be that I knew i t from hi m? I ndeed, wi thi n
me, deep i nsi de the chambers of my thought, Truth i tsel f--nei ther Hebrew, nor
Greek, nor Lati n, nor barbari an, wi thout any organs of voi ce and tongue, wi thout
the sound of syl l abl es--woul d say, He speaks the truth, and I shoul d be assured by
thi s. Then I woul d confi dentl y say to that man of thi ne, You speak the truth.
420
However, si nce I cannot i nqui re of Moses, I beseech thee, O Truth, from whose
ful l ness he spoke truth; I beseech thee, my God, forgi ve my si ns, and as thou gavest
thy servant the gi ft to speak these thi ngs, grant me al so the gi ft to understand
them.
CHAPTER I V
6. Look around; there are the heaven and the earth. They cry al oud that they
were made, for they change and vary. Whatever there i s that has not been made,
and yet has bei ng, has nothi ng i n i t that was not there before. Thi s havi ng
somethi ng not al ready exi stent i s what i t means to be changed and vari ed. Heaven
and earth thus speak pl ai nl y that they di d not make themsel ves: We are, because
we have been made; we di d not exi st before we came to be so that we coul d have
made oursel ves! And the voi ce wi th whi ch they speak i s si mpl y thei r vi si bl e
presence. I t was thou, O Lord, who madest these thi ngs. Thou art beauti ful ; thus
they are beauti ful . Thou art good, thus they are good. Thou art; thus they are. But
they are not as beauti ful , nor as good, nor as trul y real as thou thei r Creator art.
Compared wi th thee, they are nei ther beauti ful nor good, nor do they even exi st.
These thi ngs we know, thanks be to thee. Yet our knowl edge i s i gnorance when i t i s
compared wi th thy knowl edge.
CHAPTER V
7. But how di dst thou make the heaven and the earth, and what was the tool
of such a mi ghty work as thi ne? For i t was not l i ke a human worker fashi oni ng body
from body, accordi ng to the fancy of hi s mi nd, abl e somehow or other to i mpose on i t
a form whi ch the mi nd percei ved i n i tsel f by i ts i nner eye (yet how shoul d even he be
abl e to do thi s, i f thou hadst not made that mi nd?). He i mposes the form on
419
Augusti ne was profoundl y sti rred, i n mi nd and heart, by the great mystery of creati on and the
Scri ptural testi mony about i t. I n addi ti on to thi s l ong and i nvol ved anal ysi s of ti me and creati on
whi ch fol l ows here, he returned to the story i n Genesi s repeatedl y: e.g., De Genesi contra Manicheos;
De Genesi ad litteram, liber imperfectus (both wri tten before the Confessions); De Genesi ad litteram,
libri XI I and De civitate Dei, XI -XI I (both wri tten after the Confessions).
420
The fi nal test of truth, for Augusti ne, i s sel f-evi dence and the fi nal source of truth i s the
i ndwel l i ng Logos.
somethi ng al ready exi sti ng and havi ng some sort of bei ng, such as cl ay, or stone or
wood or gol d or such l i ke (and where woul d these thi ngs come from i f thou hadst not
furni shed them?). For thou madest hi s body for the arti san, and thou madest the
mi nd whi ch di rects the l i mbs; thou madest the matter from whi ch he makes
anythi ng; thou di dst create the capaci ty by whi ch he understands hi s art and sees
wi thi n hi s mi nd what he may do wi th the thi ngs before hi m; thou gavest hi m hi s
bodi l y sense by whi ch, as i f he had an i nterpreter, he may communi cate from mi nd
to matter what he proposes to do and report back to hi s mi nd what has been done,
that the mi nd may consul t wi th the Truth whi ch presi deth over i t as to whether
what i s done i s wel l done.
Al l these thi ngs prai se thee, the Creator of them al l . But how di dst thou
make them? How, O God, di dst thou make the heaven and earth? For trul y, nei ther
i n heaven nor on earth di dst thou make heaven and earth--nor i n the ai r nor i n the
waters, si nce al l of these al so bel ong to the heaven and the earth. Nowhere i n the
whol e worl d di dst thou make the whol e worl d, because there was no pl ace where i t
coul d be made before i t was made. And thou di dst not hol d anythi ng i n thy hand
from whi ch to fashi on the heaven and the earth,
421
for where coul dst thou have
gotten what thou hadst not made i n order to make somethi ng wi th i t? I s there,
i ndeed, anythi ng at al l except because thou art? Thus thou di dst speak and they
were made,
422
and by thy Word thou di dst make them al l .
CHAPTER VI
8. But how di dst thou speak? Was i t i n the same manner i n whi ch the voi ce
came from the cl oud sayi ng, Thi s i s my bel oved Son
423
? For that voi ce sounded
forth and di ed away; i t began and ended. The syl l abl es sounded and passed away,
the second after the fi rst, the thi rd after the second, and thence i n order, ti l l the
very l ast after al l the rest; and si l ence after the l ast. From thi s i t i s cl ear and pl ai n
that i t was the acti on of a creature, i tsel f i n ti me, whi ch sounded that voi ce, obeyi ng
thy eternal wi l l . And what these words were whi ch were formed at that ti me the
outer ear conveyed to the consci ous mi nd, whose i nner ear l ay attenti vel y open to
thy eternal Word. But i t compared those words whi ch sounded i n ti me wi th thy
eternal word soundi ng i n si l ence and sai d: Thi s i s di fferent; qui te di fferent! These
words are far bel ow me; they are not even real , for they fl y away and pass, but the
Word of my God remai ns above me forever. I f, then, i n words that sound and fade
away thou di dst say that heaven and earth shoul d be made, and thus madest
heaven and earth, then there was al ready some ki nd of corporeal creature before
heaven and earth by whose moti ons i n ti me that voi ce mi ght have had i ts
occurrence i n ti me. But there was nothi ng corporeal before the heaven and the
earth; or i f there was, then i t i s certai n that al ready, wi thout a ti me-bound voi ce,
thou hadst created whatever i t was out of whi ch thou di dst make the ti me-bound
voi ce by whi ch thou di dst say, Let the heaven and the earth be made! For
whatever i t was out of whi ch such a voi ce was made si mpl y di d not exi st at al l unti l
i t was made by thee. Was i t decreed by thy Word that a body mi ght be made from
whi ch such words mi ght come?
421
Cf. the noti on of creati on i n Pl ato's Timaeus (29D-30C; 48E-50C), i n whi ch the Demi urgos
(craftsman) fashi ons the uni verse from pre-exi stent matter ( ) and i mposes as much form
as the Receptacl e wi l l recei ve. The noti on of the worl d fashi oned from pre-exi stent matter of some
sort was a uni versal i dea i n Greco-Roman cosmol ogy.
422
Cf. Ps. 33:9.
423
Matt. 3:17.
CHAPTER VI I
9. Thou dost cal l us, then, to understand the Word--the God who i s God wi th
thee--whi ch i s spoken eternal l y and by whi ch al l thi ngs are spoken eternal l y. For
what was fi rst spoken was not fi ni shed, and then somethi ng el se spoken unti l the
whol e seri es was spoken; but al l thi ngs, at the same ti me and forever. For,
otherwi se, we shoul d have ti me and change and not a true eterni ty, nor a true
i mmortal i ty.
Thi s I know, O my God, and I gi ve thanks. I know, I confess to thee, O Lord,
and whoever i s not ungrateful for certai n truths knows and bl esses thee al ong wi th
me. We know, O Lord, thi s much we know: that i n the same proporti on as anythi ng
i s not what i t was, and i s what i t was not, i n that very same proporti on i t passes
away or comes to be. But there i s nothi ng i n thy Word that passes away or returns
to i ts pl ace; for i t i s trul y i mmortal and eternal . And, therefore, unto the Word
coeternal wi th thee, at the same ti me and al ways thou sayest al l that thou sayest.
And whatever thou sayest shal l be made i s made, and thou makest nothi ng
otherwi se than by speaki ng. Sti l l , not al l the thi ngs that thou dost make by
speaki ng are made at the same ti me and al ways.
CHAPTER VI I I
10. Why i s thi s, I ask of thee, O Lord my God? I see i t after a fashi on, but I do
not know how to express i t, unl ess I say that everythi ng that begi ns to be and then
ceases to be begi ns and ceases when i t i s known i n thy eternal Reason that i t ought
to begi n or cease--i n thy eternal Reason where nothi ng begi ns or ceases. And thi s i s
thy Word, whi ch i s al so the Begi nni ng, because i t al so speaks to us.
424
Thus, i n the
gospel , he spoke through the fl esh; and thi s sounded i n the outward ears of men so
that i t mi ght be bel i eved and sought for wi thi n, and so that i t mi ght be found i n the
eternal Truth, i n whi ch the good and onl y Master teacheth al l hi s di sci pl es.
425
There, O Lord, I hear thy voi ce, the voi ce of one speaki ng to me, si nce he who
teacheth us speaketh to us. But he that doth not teach us doth not real l y speak to us
even when he speaketh. Yet who i s i t that teacheth us unl ess i t be the Truth
i mmutabl e? For even when we are i nstructed by means of the mutabl e creati on, we
are thereby l ed to the Truth i mmutabl e. There we l earn trul y as we stand and hear
hi m, and we rejoi ce greatl y because of the bri degrooms voi ce,
426
restori ng us to
the source whence our bei ng comes. And therefore, unl ess the Begi nni ng remai ned
i mmutabl e, there woul d then not be a pl ace to whi ch we mi ght return when we had
wandered away. But when we return from error, i t i s through our gai ni ng
knowl edge that we return. I n order for us to gai n knowl edge he teacheth us, si nce
he i s the Begi nni ng, and speaketh to us.
CHAPTER I X
11. I n thi s Begi nni ng, O God, thou hast made heaven and earth--through thy
Word, thy Son, thy Power, thy Wi sdom, thy Truth: al l wondrousl y speaki ng and
wondrousl y creati ng. Who shal l comprehend such thi ngs and who shal l tel l of i t?
What i s i t that shi neth through me and stri keth my heart wi thout i njury, so that I
both shudder and burn? I shudder because I am unl i ke i t; I burn because I am l i ke
424
Cf. the Vul gate of John 8:25.
425
Cf. Augusti ne's emphasi s on Chri st as true Teacher i n De Magistro.
426
Cf. John 3:29.
i t. I t i s Wi sdom i tsel f that shi neth through me, cl eari ng away my fog, whi ch so
readi l y overwhel ms me so that I fai nt i n i t, i n the darkness and burden of my
puni shment. For my strength i s brought down i n needi ness, so that I cannot endure
even my bl essi ngs unti l thou, O Lord, who hast been graci ous to al l my i ni qui ti es,
al so heal est al l my i nfi rmi ti es--for i t i s thou who shal t redeem my l i fe from
corrupti on, and crown me wi th l ovi ng-ki ndness and tender mercy, and shal t sati sfy
my desi re wi th good thi ngs so that my youth shal l be renewed l i ke the eagl es.
427
For by thi s hope we are saved, and through pati ence we awai t thy promi ses. Let
hi m that i s abl e hear thee speaki ng to hi s i nner mi nd. I wi l l cry out wi th confi dence
because of thy own oracl e, How wonderful are thy works, O Lord; i n wi sdom thou
hast made them al l .
428
And thi s Wi sdom i s the Begi nni ng, and i n that Begi nni ng
thou hast made heaven and earth.
CHAPTER X
12. Now, are not those sti l l ful l of thei r ol d carnal nature
429
who ask us:
What was God doi ng before he made heaven and earth? For i f he was i dl e, they
say, and doi ng nothi ng, then why di d he not conti nue i n that state forever--doi ng
nothi ng, as he had al ways done? I f any new moti on has ari sen i n God, and a new
wi l l to form a creature, whi ch he had never before formed, how can that be a true
eterni ty i n whi ch an act of wi l l occurs that was not there before? For the wi l l of God
i s not a created thi ng, but comes before the creati on--and thi s i s true because
nothi ng coul d be created unl ess the wi l l of the Creator came before i t. The wi l l of
God, therefore, pertai ns to hi s very Essence. Yet i f anythi ng has ari sen i n the
Essence of God that was not there before, then that Essence cannot trul y be cal l ed
eternal . But i f i t was the eternal wi l l of God that the creati on shoul d come to be,
why, then, i s not the creati on i tsel f al so from eterni ty?
430
CHAPTER XI
13. Those who say these thi ngs do not yet understand thee, O Wi sdom of God,
O Li ght of soul s. They do not yet understand how the thi ngs are made that are
made by and i n thee. They endeavor to comprehend eternal thi ngs, but thei r heart
sti l l fl i es about i n the past and future moti ons of created thi ngs, and i s sti l l
unstabl e. Who shal l hol d i t and fi x i t so that i t may come to rest for a l i ttl e; and
then, by degrees, gl i mpse the gl ory of that eterni ty whi ch abi des forever; and then,
compari ng eterni ty wi th the temporal process i n whi ch nothi ng abi des, they may see
that they are i ncommensurabl e? They woul d see that a l ong ti me does not become
l ong, except from the many separate events that occur i n i ts passage, whi ch cannot
be si mul taneous. I n the Eternal , on the other hand, nothi ng passes away, but the
whol e i s si mul taneousl y present. But no temporal process i s whol l y si mul taneous.
Therefore, l et i t
431
see that al l ti me past i s forced to move on by the i ncomi ng future;
427
Cf. Ps. 103:4, 5 (mi xed text).
428
Ps. 104:24.
429
Pleni vetustatis suae. I n Sermon CCLXVI I , 2 (PL 38, c. 1230), Augusti ne has a si mi l ar usage.
Speaki ng of those who pour new wi ne i nto ol d contai ners, he says: Carnalitas vetustas est, gratia
novitas est, "Carnal i ty i s the ol d nature; grace i s the new"; cf. Matt. 9:17.
430
The noti on of the eterni ty of thi s worl d was wi del y hel d i n Greek phi l osophy, i n di fferent versi ons,
and was i ncorporated i nto the Mani chean rejecti on of the Chri sti an doctri ne of creatio ex nihilo
whi ch Augusti ne i s ci ti ng here. He returns to the questi on, and hi s answer to i t, agai n i n De civitate
Dei, XI , 4-8.
431
The unstabl e "heart" of those who confuse ti me and eterni ty.
that al l the future fol l ows from the past; and that al l , past and future, i s created
and i ssues out of that whi ch i s forever present. Who wi l l hol d the heart of man that
i t may stand sti l l and see how the eterni ty whi ch al ways stands sti l l i s i tsel f nei ther
future nor past but expresses i tsel f i n the ti mes that are future and past? Can my
hand do thi s, or can the hand of my mouth bri ng about so di ffi cul t a thi ng even by
persuasi on?
CHAPTER XI I
14. How, then, shal l I respond to hi m who asks, What was God doi ng before
he made heaven and earth? I do not answer, as a certai n one i s reported to have
done faceti ousl y (shruggi ng off the force of the questi on). He was prepari ng hel l ,
he sai d, for those who pry too deep. I t i s one thi ng to see the answer; i t i s another
to l augh at the questi oner--and for mysel f I do not answer these thi ngs thus. More
wi l l i ngl y woul d I have answered, I do not know what I do not know, than cause
one who asked a deep questi on to be ri di cul ed--and by such tacti cs gai n prai se for a
worthl ess answer.
Rather, I say that thou, our God, art the Creator of every creature. And i f i n
the term heaven and earth every creature i s i ncl uded, I make bol d to say further:
Before God made heaven and earth, he di d not make anythi ng at al l . For i f he di d,
what di d he make unl ess i t were a creature? I do i ndeed wi sh that I knew al l that I
desi re to know to my profi t as surel y as I know that no creature was made before
any creature was made.
CHAPTER XI I I
15. But i f the rovi ng thought of someone shoul d wander over the i mages of
past ti me, and wonder that thou, the Al mi ghty God, the Al l -creati ng and Al l -
sustai ni ng, the Archi tect of heaven and earth, di dst for ages unnumbered abstai n
from so great a work before thou di dst actual l y do i t, l et hi m awake and consi der
that he wonders at i l l usi ons. For i n what temporal medi um coul d the unnumbered
ages that thou di dst not make pass by, si nce thou art the Author and Creator of al l
the ages? Or what peri ods of ti me woul d those be that were not made by thee? Or
how coul d they have al ready passed away i f they had not al ready been? Si nce,
therefore, thou art the Creator of al l ti mes, i f there was any ti me before thou madest
heaven and earth, why i s i t sai d that thou wast abstai ni ng from worki ng? For thou
madest that very ti me i tsel f, and peri ods coul d not pass by before thou madest the
whol e temporal processi on. But i f there was no ti me before heaven and earth, how,
then, can i t be asked, What wast thou doi ng then? For there was no then when
there was no ti me.
16. Nor dost thou precede any gi ven peri od of ti me by another peri od of ti me.
El se thou woul dst not precede al l peri ods of ti me. I n the emi nence of thy ever-
present eterni ty, thou precedest al l ti mes past, and extendest beyond al l future
ti mes, for they are sti l l to come--and when they have come, they wi l l be past. But
Thou art al ways the Sel fsame and thy years shal l have no end.
432
Thy years
nei ther go nor come; but ours both go and come i n order that al l separate moments
may come to pass. Al l thy years stand together as one, si nce they are abi di ng. Nor
do thy years past excl ude the years to come because thy years do not pass away. Al l
these years of ours shal l be wi th thee, when al l of them shal l have ceased to be. Thy
years are but a day, and thy day i s not recurrent, but al ways today. Thy today
432
Cf. Ps. 102:27.
yi el ds not to tomorrow and does not fol l ow yesterday. Thy today i s eterni ty.
Therefore, thou di dst generate the Coeternal , to whom thou di dst say, Thi s day I
have begotten thee.
433
Thou madest al l ti me and before al l ti mes thou art, and
there was never a ti me when there was no ti me.
CHAPTER XI V
17. There was no ti me, therefore, when thou hadst not made anythi ng,
because thou hadst made ti me i tsel f. And there are no ti mes that are coeternal wi th
thee, because thou dost abi de forever; but i f ti mes shoul d abi de, they woul d not be
ti mes.
For what i s ti me? Who can easi l y and bri efl y expl ai n i t? Who can even
comprehend i t i n thought or put the answer i nto words? Yet i s i t not true that i n
conversati on we refer to nothi ng more fami l i arl y or knowi ngl y than ti me? And
surel y we understand i t when we speak of i t; we understand i t al so when we hear
another speak of i t.
What, then, i s ti me? I f no one asks me, I know what i t i s. I f I wi sh to expl ai n
i t to hi m who asks me, I do not know. Yet I say wi th confi dence that I know that i f
nothi ng passed away, there woul d be no past ti me; and i f nothi ng were sti l l comi ng,
there woul d be no future ti me; and i f there were nothi ng at al l , there woul d be no
present ti me.
But, then, how i s i t that there are the two ti mes, past and future, when even
the past i s now no l onger and the future i s now not yet? But i f the present were
al ways present, and di d not pass i nto past ti me, i t obvi ousl y woul d not be ti me but
eterni ty. I f, then, ti me present--i f i t be ti me--comes i nto exi stence onl y because i t
passes i nto ti me past, how can we say that even thi s i s, si nce the cause of i ts bei ng
i s that i t wi l l cease to be? Thus, can we not trul y say that ti me is onl y as i t tends
toward nonbei ng?
CHAPTER XV
18. And yet we speak of a l ong ti me and a short ti me; but never speak thi s
way except of ti me past and future. We cal l a hundred years ago, for exampl e, a l ong
ti me past. I n l i ke manner, we shoul d cal l a hundred years hence a l ong ti me to
come. But we cal l ten days ago a short ti me past; and ten days hence a short ti me to
come. But i n what sense i s somethi ng l ong or short that i s nonexi stent? For the past
i s not now, and the future i s not yet. Therefore, l et us not say, I t is l ong; i nstead,
l et us say of the past, I t was l ong, and of the future, I t will be l ong. And yet, O
Lord, my Li ght, shal l not thy truth make mockery of man even here? For that l ong
ti me past: was i t l ong when i t was al ready past, or when i t was sti l l present? For i t
mi ght have been l ong when there was a peri od that coul d be l ong, but when i t was
past, i t no l onger was. I n that case, that whi ch was not at al l coul d not be l ong. Let
us not, therefore, say, Ti me past was l ong, for we shal l not di scover what i t was
that was l ong because, si nce i t i s past, i t no l onger exi sts. Rather, l et us say that
ti me present was l ong, because when i t was present i t was l ong. For then i t had
not yet passed on so as not to be, and therefore i t sti l l was i n a state that coul d be
cal l ed l ong. But after i t passed, i t ceased to be l ong si mpl y because i t ceased to be.
19. Let us, therefore, O human soul , see whether present ti me can be l ong, for
i t has been gi ven you to feel and measure the peri ods of ti me. How, then, wi l l you
answer me?
433
Ps. 2:7.
I s a hundred years when present a l ong ti me? But, fi rst, see whether a
hundred years can be present at once. For i f the fi rst year i n the century i s current,
then i t i s present ti me, and the other ni nety and ni ne are sti l l future. Therefore,
they are not yet. But, then, i f the second year i s current, one year i s al ready past,
the second present, and al l the rest are future. And thus, i f we fi x on any mi ddl e
year of thi s century as present, those before i t are past, those after i t are future.
Therefore, a hundred years cannot be present al l at once.
Let us see, then, whether the year that i s now current can be present. For i f
i ts fi rst month i s current, then the rest are future; i f the second, the fi rst i s al ready
past, and the remai nder are not yet. Therefore, the current year i s not present al l at
once. And i f i t i s not present as a whol e, then the year i s not present. For i t takes
twel ve months to make the year, from whi ch each i ndi vi dual month whi ch i s
current i s i tsel f present one at a ti me, but the rest are ei ther past or future.
20. Thus i t comes out that ti me present, whi ch we found was the onl y ti me
that coul d be cal l ed l ong, has been cut down to the space of scarcel y a si ngl e day.
But l et us exami ne even that, for one day i s never present as a whol e. For i t i s made
up of twenty-four hours, di vi ded between ni ght and day. The fi rst of these hours has
the rest of them as future, and the l ast of them has the rest as past; but any of those
between has those that preceded i t as past and those that succeed i t as future. And
that one hour i tsel f passes away i n fl eeti ng fracti ons. The part of i t that has fl ed i s
past; what remai ns i s sti l l future. I f any fracti on of ti me be concei ved that cannot
now be di vi ded even i nto the most mi nute momentary poi nt, thi s al one i s what we
may cal l ti me present. But thi s fl i es so rapi dl y from future to past that i t cannot be
extended by any del ay. For i f i t i s extended, i t i s then di vi ded i nto past and future.
But the present has no extensi on
434
whatever.
Where, therefore, i s that ti me whi ch we may cal l l ong? I s i t future? Actual l y
we do not say of the future, I t i s l ong, for i t has not yet come to be, so as to be l ong.
I nstead, we say, I t wi l l be l ong. When wi l l i t be? For si nce i t i s future, i t wi l l not be
l ong, for what may be l ong i s not yet. I t wi l l be l ong onl y when i t passes from the
future whi ch i s not as yet, and wi l l have begun to be present, so that there can be
somethi ng that may be l ong. But i n that case, ti me present cri es al oud, i n the words
we have al ready heard, that i t cannot be l ong.
CHAPTER XVI
21. And yet, O Lord, we do percei ve i nterval s of ti me, and we compare them
wi th each other, and we say that some are l onger and others are shorter. We even
measure how much l onger or shorter thi s ti me may be than that ti me. And we say
that thi s ti me i s twi ce as l ong, or three ti mes as l ong, whi l e thi s other ti me i s onl y
just as l ong as that other. But we measure the passage of ti me when we measure
the i nterval s of percepti on. But who can measure ti mes past whi ch now are no
l onger, or ti mes future whi ch are not yet--unl ess perhaps someone wi l l dare to say
that what does not exi st can be measured? Therefore, whi l e ti me i s passi ng, i t can
be percei ved and measured; but when i t i s past, i t cannot, si nce i t i s not.
CHAPTER XVI I
22. I am seeki ng the truth, O Father; I am not affi rmi ng i t. O my God, di rect
and rul e me.
Who i s there who wi l l tel l me that there are not three ti mes--as we l earned
434
Spatium, whi ch means extensi on ei ther i n space or ti me.
when boys and as we have al so taught boys--ti me past, ti me present, and ti me
future? Who can say that there i s onl y ti me present because the other two do not
exi st? Or do they al so exi st; but when, from the future, ti me becomes present, i t
proceeds from some secret pl ace; and when, from ti mes present, i t becomes past, i t
recedes i nto some secret pl ace? For where have those men who have foretol d the
future seen the thi ngs foretol d, i f then they were not yet exi sti ng? For what does not
exi st cannot be seen. And those who tel l of thi ngs past coul d not speak of them as i f
they were true, i f they di d not see them i n thei r mi nds. These thi ngs coul d i n no way
be di scerned i f they di d not exi st. There are therefore ti mes present and ti mes past.
CHAPTER XVI I I
23. Gi ve me l eave, O Lord, to seek sti l l further. O my Hope, l et not my
purpose be confounded. For i f there are ti mes past and future, I wi sh to know where
they are. But i f I have not yet succeeded i n thi s, I sti l l know that wherever they are,
they are not there as future or past, but as present. For i f they are there as future,
they are there as not yet; i f they are there as past, they are there as no l onger.
Wherever they are and whatever they are they exi st therefore onl y as present.
Al though we tel l of past thi ngs as true, they are drawn out of the memory--not the
thi ngs themsel ves, whi ch have al ready passed, but words constructed from the
i mages of the percepti ons whi ch were formed i n the mi nd, l i ke footpri nts i n thei r
passage through the senses. My chi l dhood, for i nstance, whi ch i s no l onger, sti l l
exi sts i n ti me past, whi ch does not now exi st. But when I cal l to mi nd i ts i mage and
speak of i t, I see i t i n the present because i t i s sti l l i n my memory. Whether there i s
a si mi l ar expl anati on for the foretel l i ng of future events--that i s, of the i mages of
thi ngs whi ch are not yet seen as i f they were al ready exi sti ng--I confess, O my God,
I do not know. But thi s I certai nl y do know: that we general l y thi nk ahead about
our future acti ons, and thi s premedi tati on i s i n ti me present; but that the acti on
whi ch we premedi tate i s not yet, because i t i s sti l l future. When we shal l have
started the acti on and have begun to do what we were premedi tati ng, then that
acti on wi l l be i n ti me present, because then i t i s no l onger i n ti me future.
24. Whatever may be the manner of thi s secret foreseei ng of future thi ngs,
nothi ng can be seen except what exi sts. But what exi sts now i s not future, but
present. When, therefore, they say that future events are seen, i t i s not the events
themsel ves, for they do not exi st as yet (that i s, they are sti l l i n ti me future), but
perhaps, i nstead, thei r causes and thei r si gns are seen, whi ch al ready do exi st.
Therefore, to those al ready behol di ng these causes and si gns, they are not future,
but present, and from them future thi ngs are predi cted because they are concei ved
i n the mi nd. These concepti ons, however, exi st now, and those who predi ct those
thi ngs see these concepti ons before them i n ti me present.
Let me take an exampl e from the vast mul ti tude and vari ety of such thi ngs. I
see the dawn; I predi ct that the sun i s about to ri se. What I see i s i n ti me present,
what I predi ct i s i n ti me future--not that the sun i s future, for i t al ready exi sts; but
i ts ri si ng i s future, because i t i s not yet. Yet I coul d not predi ct even i ts ri si ng,
unl ess I had an i mage of i t i n my mi nd; as, i ndeed, I do even now as I speak. But
that dawn whi ch I see i n the sky i s not the ri si ng of the sun (though i t does precede
i t), nor i s i t a concepti on i n my mi nd. These two
435
are seen i n ti me present, i n order
that the event whi ch i s i n ti me future may be predi cted.
Future events, therefore, are not yet. And i f they are not yet, they do not
exi st. And i f they do not exi st, they cannot be seen at al l , but they can be predi cted
435
The breaki ng l i ght and the i mage of the ri si ng sun.
from thi ngs present, whi ch now are and are seen.
CHAPTER XI X
25. Now, therefore, O Rul er of thy creatures, what i s the mode by whi ch thou
teachest soul s those thi ngs whi ch are sti l l future? For thou hast taught thy
prophets. How dost thou, to whom nothi ng i s future, teach future thi ngs--or rather
teach thi ngs present from the si gns of thi ngs future? For what does not exi st
certai nl y cannot be taught. Thi s way of thi ne i s too far from my si ght; i t i s too great
for me, I cannot attai n to i t.
436
But I shal l be enabl ed by thee, when thou wi l t grant
i t, O sweet Li ght of my secret eyes.
CHAPTER XX
26. But even now i t i s mani fest and cl ear that there are nei ther ti mes future
nor ti mes past. Thus i t i s not properl y sai d that there are three ti mes, past, present,
and future. Perhaps i t mi ght be sai d ri ghtl y that there are three ti mes: a ti me
present of thi ngs past; a ti me present of thi ngs present; and a ti me present of thi ngs
future. For these three do coexi st somehow i n the soul , for otherwi se I coul d not see
them. The ti me present of thi ngs past i s memory; the ti me present of thi ngs present
i s di rect experi ence; the ti me present of thi ngs future i s expectati on.
437
I f we are
al l owed to speak of these thi ngs so, I see three ti mes, and I grant that there are
three. Let i t sti l l be sai d, then, as our mi sappl i ed custom has i t: There are three
ti mes, past, present, and future. I shal l not be troubl ed by i t, nor argue, nor object--
al ways provi ded that what i s sai d i s understood, so that nei ther the future nor the
past i s sai d to exi st now. There are but few thi ngs about whi ch we speak properl y--
and many more about whi ch we speak i mproperl y--though we understand one
anothers meani ng.
CHAPTER XXI
27. I have sai d, then, that we measure peri ods of ti me as they pass so that we
can say that thi s ti me i s twi ce as l ong as that one or that thi s i s just as l ong as that,
and so on for the other fracti ons of ti me whi ch we can count by measuri ng.
So, then, as I was sayi ng, we measure peri ods of ti me as they pass. And i f
anyone asks me, How do you know thi s?, I can answer: I know because we
measure. We coul d not measure thi ngs that do not exi st, and thi ngs past and future
do not exi st. But how do we measure present ti me si nce i t has no extensi on? I t i s
measured whi l e i t passes, but when i t has passed i t i s not measured; for then there
i s nothi ng that coul d be measured. But whence, and how, and whi ther does i t pass
whi l e i t i s bei ng measured? Whence, but from the future? Whi ch way, save through
the present? Whi ther, but i nto the past? Therefore, from what i s not yet, through
what has no l ength, i t passes i nto what i s now no l onger. But what do we measure,
unl ess i t i s a ti me of some l ength? For we cannot speak of si ngl e, and doubl e, and
tri pl e, and equal , and al l the other ways i n whi ch we speak of ti me, except i n terms
of the l ength of the peri ods of ti me. But i n what l ength, then, do we measure
passi ng ti me? I s i t i n the future, from whi ch i t passes over? But what does not yet
exi st cannot be measured. Or, i s i t i n the present, through whi ch i t passes? But
436
Cf. Ps. 139:6.
437
Memoria, contuitus, and expectatio: a pattern that corresponds vaguel y to the movement of
Augusti ne's thought i n the Confessions: from di rect experi ence back to the supporti ng memori es and
forward to the outreach of hope and confi dence i n God's provi dent grace.
what has no l ength we cannot measure. Or i s i t i n the past i nto whi ch i t passes? But
what i s no l onger we cannot measure.
CHAPTER XXI I
28. My soul burns ardentl y to understand thi s most i ntri cate eni gma. O Lord
my God, O good Father, I beseech thee through Chri st, do not cl ose off these thi ngs,
both the fami l i ar and the obscure, from my desi re. Do not bar i t from enteri ng i nto
them; but l et thei r l i ght dawn by thy enl i ghteni ng mercy, O Lord. Of whom shal l I
i nqui re about these thi ngs? And to whom shal l I confess my i gnorance of them wi th
greater profi t than to thee, to whom these studi es of mi ne (ardentl y l ongi ng to
understand thy Scri ptures) are not a bore? Gi ve me what I l ove, for I do l ove i t; and
thi s thou hast gi ven me. O Father, who trul y knowest how to gi ve good gi fts to thy
chi l dren, gi ve thi s to me. Grant i t, si nce I have undertaken to understand i t, and
hard l abor i s my l ot unti l thou openest i t. I beseech thee, through Chri st and i n hi s
name, the Hol y of Hol i es, l et no man i nterrupt me. For I have bel i eved, and
therefore do I speak.
438
Thi s i s my hope; for thi s I l i ve: that I may contempl ate the
joys of my Lord.
439
Behol d, thou hast made my days grow ol d, and they pass away--
and how I do not know.
We speak of thi s ti me and that ti me, and these ti mes and those ti mes: How
l ong ago si nce he sai d thi s? How l ong ago si nce he di d thi s? How l ong ago si nce I
saw that? Thi s syl l abl e i s twi ce as l ong as that si ngl e short syl l abl e. These words
we say and hear, and we are understood and we understand. They are qui te
commonpl ace and ordi nary, and sti l l the meani ng of these very same thi ngs l i es
deepl y hi d and i ts di scovery i s sti l l to come.
CHAPTER XXI I I
29. I once heard a l earned man say that the moti ons of the sun, moon, and
stars consti tuted ti me; and I di d not agree. For why shoul d not the moti ons of al l
bodi es consti tute ti me? What i f the l i ghts of heaven shoul d cease, and a potters
wheel sti l l turn round: woul d there be no ti me by whi ch we mi ght measure those
rotati ons and say ei ther that i t turned at equal i nterval s, or, i f i t moved now more
sl owl y and now more qui ckl y, that some rotati ons were l onger and others shorter?
And whi l e we were sayi ng thi s, woul d we not al so be speaki ng i n ti me? Or woul d
there not be i n our words some syl l abl es that were l ong and others short, because
the fi rst took a l onger ti me to sound, and the others a shorter ti me? O God, grant
men to see i n a smal l thi ng the noti ons that are common
440
to al l thi ngs, both great
and smal l . Both the stars and the l i ghts of heaven are for si gns and seasons, and
for days and years.
441
Thi s i s doubtl ess the case, but just as I shoul d not say that
the ci rcui t of that wooden wheel was a day, nei ther woul d that l earned man say that
there was, therefore, no ti me.
30. I thi rst to know the power and the nature of ti me, by whi ch we measure
the moti ons of bodi es, and say, for exampl e, that thi s moti on i s twi ce as l ong as that.
For I ask, si nce the word day refers not onl y to the l ength of ti me that the sun i s
above the earth (whi ch separates day from ni ght), but al so refers to the suns enti re
438
Cf. Ps. 116:10.
439
Cf. Matt. 25:21, 23.
440
Communes notitias, the uni versal pri nci pl es of "common sense." Thi s i dea became a basi c
category i n schol asti c epi stemol ogy.
441
Gen. 1:14.
ci rcui t from east al l the way around to east--on account of whi ch we can say, So
many days have passed (the ni ghts bei ng i ncl uded when we say, So many days,
and thei r l engths not counted separatel y)--si nce, then, the day i s ended by the
moti on of the sun and by hi s passage from east to east, I ask whether the moti on
i tsel f i s the day, or whether the day i s the peri od i n whi ch that moti on i s compl eted;
or both? For i f the suns passage i s the day, then there woul d be a day even i f the
sun shoul d fi ni sh hi s course i n as short a peri od as an hour. I f the moti on i tsel f i s
the day, then i t woul d not be a day i f from one sunri se to another there were a
peri od no l onger than an hour. But the sun woul d have to go round twenty-four
ti mes to make just one day. I f i t i s both, then that coul d not be cal l ed a day i f the
sun ran hi s enti re course i n the peri od of an hour; nor woul d i t be a day i f, whi l e the
sun stood sti l l , as much ti me passed as the sun usual l y covered duri ng hi s whol e
course, from morni ng to morni ng. I shal l , therefore, not ask any more what i t i s that
i s cal l ed a day, but rather what ti me i s, for i t i s by ti me that we measure the ci rcui t
of the sun, and woul d be abl e to say that i t was fi ni shed i n hal f the peri od of ti me
that i t customari l y takes i f i t were compl eted i n a peri od of onl y twel ve hours. I f,
then, we compare these peri ods, we coul d cal l one of them a si ngl e and the other a
doubl e peri od, as i f the sun mi ght run hi s course from east to east someti mes i n a
si ngl e peri od and someti mes i n a doubl e peri od.
Let no man tel l me, therefore, that the moti ons of the heavenl y bodi es
consti tute ti me. For when the sun stood sti l l at the prayer of a certai n man i n order
that he mi ght gai n hi s vi ctory i n battl e, the sun stood sti l l but ti me went on. For i n
as l ong a span of ti me as was suffi ci ent the battl e was fought and ended.
442
I see, then, that ti me i s a certai n ki nd of extensi on. But do I see i t, or do I
onl y seem to? Thou, O Li ght and Truth, wi l t show me.
CHAPTER XXI V
31. Dost thou command that I shoul d agree i f anyone says that ti me i s the
moti on of a body? Thou dost not so command. For I hear that no body i s moved but
i n ti me; thi s thou tel l est me. But that the moti on of a body i tsel f i s ti me I do not
hear; thou dost not say so. For when a body i s moved, I measure by ti me how l ong i t
was movi ng from the ti me when i t began to be moved unti l i t stopped. And i f I di d
not see when i t began to be moved, and i f i t conti nued to move so that I coul d not
see when i t stopped, I coul d not measure the movement, except from the ti me when
I began to see i t unti l I stopped. But i f I l ook at i t for a l ong ti me, I can affi rm onl y
that the ti me i s l ong but not how l ong i t may be. Thi s i s because when we say, How
l ong?, we are speaki ng comparati vel y as: Thi s i s as l ong as that, or, Thi s i s twi ce
as l ong as that; or other such si mi l ar rati os. But i f we were abl e to observe the
poi nt i n space where and from whi ch the body, whi ch i s moved, comes and the poi nt
to whi ch i t i s moved; or i f we can observe i ts parts movi ng as i n a wheel , we can say
how l ong the movement of the body took or the movement of i ts parts from thi s
pl ace to that. Si nce, therefore, the moti on of a body i s one thi ng, and the norm by
whi ch we measure how l ong i t takes i s another thi ng, we cannot see whi ch of these
two i s to be cal l ed ti me. For, al though a body i s someti mes moved and someti mes
stands sti l l , we measure not onl y i ts moti on but al so i ts rest as wel l ; and both by
ti me! Thus we say, I t stood sti l l as l ong as i t moved, or, I t stood sti l l twi ce or
three ti mes as l ong as i t moved--or any other rati o whi ch our measuri ng has ei ther
determi ned or i magi ned, ei ther roughl y or preci sel y, accordi ng to our custom.
Therefore, ti me i s not the moti on of a body.
442
Cf. Josh. 10:12-14.
CHAPTER XXV
32. And I confess to thee, O Lord, that I am sti l l i gnorant as to what ti me i s.
And agai n I confess to thee, O Lord, that I know that I am speaki ng al l these thi ngs
i n ti me, and that I have al ready spoken of ti me a l ong ti me, and that very l ong i s
not l ong except when measured by the durati on of ti me. How, then, do I know thi s,
when I do not know what ti me i s? Or, i s i t possi bl e that I do not know how I can
express what I do know? Al as for me! I do not even know the extent of my own
i gnorance. Behol d, O my God, i n thy presence I do not l i e. As my heart i s, so I speak.
Thou shal t l i ght my candl e; thou, O Lord my God, wi l t enl i ghten my darkness.
443
CHAPTER XXVI
33. Does not my soul most trul y confess to thee that I do measure i nterval s of
ti me? But what i s i t that I thus measure, O my God, and how i s i t that I do not
know what I measure? I measure the moti on of a body by ti me, but the ti me i tsel f I
do not measure. But, trul y, coul d I measure the moti on of a body--how l ong i t takes,
how l ong i t i s i n moti on from thi s pl ace to that--unl ess I coul d measure the ti me i n
whi ch i t i s movi ng?
How, then, do I measure thi s ti me i tsel f? Do we measure a l onger ti me by a
shorter ti me, as we measure the l ength of a crossbeam i n terms of cubi ts?
444
Thus,
we can say that the l ength of a l ong syl l abl e i s measured by the l ength of a short
syl l abl e and thus say that the l ong syl l abl e i s doubl e. So al so we measure the l ength
of poems by the l ength of the l i nes, and the l ength of the l i ne by the l ength of the
feet, and the l ength of the feet by the l ength of the syl l abl e, and the l ength of the
l ong syl l abl es by the l ength of the short ones. We do not measure by pages--for i n
that way we woul d measure space rather than ti me--but when we speak the words
as they pass by we say: I t i s a l ong stanza, because i t i s made up of so many verses;
they are l ong verses because they consi st of so many feet; they are l ong feet because
they extend over so many syl l abl es; thi s i s a l ong syl l abl e because i t i s twi ce the
l ength of a short one.
But no certai n measure of ti me i s obtai ned thi s way; si nce i t i s possi bl e that i f
a shorter verse i s pronounced sl owl y, i t may take up more ti me than a l onger one i f
i t i s pronounced hurri edl y. The same woul d hol d for a stanza, or a foot, or a syl l abl e.
From thi s i t appears to me that ti me i s nothi ng other than extendedness;
445
but
extendedness of what I do not know. Thi s i s a marvel to me. The extendedness may
be of the mi nd i tsel f. For what i s i t I measure, I ask thee, O my God, when I say
ei ther, roughl y, Thi s ti me i s l onger than that, or, more preci sel y, Thi s i s twice as
l ong as that. I know that I am measuri ng ti me. But I am not measuri ng the future,
for i t i s not yet; and I am not measuri ng the present because i t i s extended by no
l ength; and I am not measuri ng the past because i t no l onger i s. What i s i t,
therefore, that I am measuri ng? I s i t ti me i n i ts passage, but not ti me past
[praetereuntia tempora, non praeterita]? Thi s i s what I have been sayi ng.
CHAPTER XXVI I
34. Press on, O my mi nd, and attend wi th al l your power. God i s our Hel per:
443
Cf. Ps. 18:28.
444
Cubitum, l i teral l y the di stance between the el bow and the ti p of the mi ddl e fi nger; i n the i mperi al
system of wei ghts and measures i t was 17.5 i nches.
445
Distentionem, "spread-out-ness"; cf. Descartes' noti on of res extensae, and i ts rel ati on to ti me.
i t i s he that hath made us and not we oursel ves.
446
Gi ve heed where the truth
begi ns to dawn.
447
Suppose now that a bodi l y voi ce begi ns to sound, and conti nues
to sound--on and on--and then ceases. Now there i s si l ence. The voi ce i s past, and
there i s no l onger a sound. I t was future before i t sounded, and coul d not be
measured because i t was not yet; and now i t cannot be measured because i t i s no
l onger. Therefore, whi l e i t was soundi ng, i t mi ght have been measured because then
there was somethi ng that coul d be measured. But even then i t di d not stand sti l l ,
for i t was i n moti on and was passi ng away. Coul d i t, on that account, be any more
readi l y measured? For whi l e i t was passi ng away, i t was bei ng extended i nto some
i nterval of ti me i n whi ch i t mi ght be measured, si nce the present has no l ength.
Supposi ng, though, that i t mi ght have been measured--then al so suppose that
another voi ce had begun to sound and i s sti l l soundi ng wi thout any i nterrupti on to
break i ts conti nued fl ow. We can measure i t onl y whi l e i t i s soundi ng, for when i t
has ceased to sound i t wi l l be al ready past and there wi l l not be anythi ng there that
can be measured. Let us measure i t exactl y; and l et us say how much i t i s. But
whi l e i t i s soundi ng, i t cannot be measured except from the i nstant when i t began to
sound, down to the fi nal moment when i t l eft off. For we measure the ti me i nterval
i tsel f from some begi nni ng poi nt to some end. Thi s i s why a voi ce that has not yet
ended cannot be measured, so that one coul d say how l ong or how bri efl y i t wi l l
conti nue. Nor can i t be sai d to be equal to another voi ce or si ngl e or doubl e i n
compari son to i t or anythi ng l i ke thi s. But when i t i s ended, i t i s no l onger. How,
therefore, may i t be measured? And yet we measure ti mes; not those whi ch are not
yet, nor those whi ch no l onger are, nor those whi ch are stretched out by some del ay,
nor those whi ch have no l i mi t. Therefore, we measure nei ther ti mes future nor
ti mes past, nor ti mes present, nor ti mes passi ng by; and yet we do measure ti mes.
35. Deus Creator omnium
448
: thi s verse of ei ght syl l abl es al ternates between
short and l ong syl l abl es. The four short ones--that i s, the fi rst, thi rd, fi fth, and
seventh--are si ngl e i n rel ati on to the four l ong ones--that i s, the second, fourth,
si xth, and ei ghth. Each of the l ong ones i s doubl e the l ength of each of the short
ones. I affi rm thi s and report i t, and common sense percei ves that thi s i ndeed i s the
case. By common sense, then, I measure a l ong syl l abl e by a short one, and I fi nd
that i t i s twi ce as l ong. But when one sounds after another, i f the fi rst be short and
the l atter l ong, how can I hol d the short one and how can I appl y i t to the l ong one
as a measure, so that I can di scover that the l ong one i s twi ce as l ong, when, i n fact,
the l ong one does not begi n to sound unti l the short one l eaves off soundi ng? That
same l ong syl l abl e I do not measure as present, si nce I cannot measure i t unti l i t i s
ended; but i ts endi ng i s i ts passi ng away.
What i s i t, then, that I can measure? Where i s the short syl l abl e by whi ch I
measure? Where i s the l ong one that I am measuri ng? Both have sounded, have
fl own away, have passed on, and are no l onger. And sti l l I measure, and I
confi dentl y answer--as far as a trai ned ear can be trusted--that thi s syl l abl e i s
si ngl e and that syl l abl e doubl e. And I coul d not do thi s unl ess they both had passed
and were ended. Therefore I do not measure them, for they do not exi st any more.
But I measure somethi ng i n my memory whi ch remai ns fi xed.
36. I t i s i n you, O mi nd of mi ne, that I measure the peri ods of ti me. Do not
shout me down that i t exi sts [objecti vel y]; do not overwhel m yoursel f wi th the
446
Ps. 100:3.
447
Here Augusti ne begi ns to summari ze hi s own answers to the questi ons he has rai sed i n hi s
anal ysi s of ti me.
448
The same hymn of Ambrose quoted above, Bk. I X, Ch. XI I , 39, and anal yzed agai n i n De musica,
VI , 2:2.
turbul ent fl ood of your i mpressi ons. I n you, as I have sai d, I measure the peri ods of
ti me. I measure as ti me present the i mpressi on that thi ngs make on you as they
pass by and what remai ns after they have passed by--I do not measure the thi ngs
themsel ves whi ch have passed by and l eft thei r i mpressi on on you. Thi s i s what I
measure when I measure peri ods of ti me. Ei ther, then, these are the peri ods of ti me
or el se I do not measure ti me at al l .
What are we doi ng when we measure si l ence, and say that thi s si l ence has
l asted as l ong as that voi ce l asts? Do we not project our thought to the measure of a
sound, as i f i t were then soundi ng, so that we can say somethi ng concerni ng the
i nterval s of si l ence i n a gi ven span of ti me? For, even when both the voi ce and the
tongue are sti l l , we revi ew--i n thought--poems and verses, and di scourse of vari ous
ki nds or vari ous measures of moti ons, and we speci fy thei r ti me spans--how l ong
thi s i s i n rel ati on to that--just as i f we were speaki ng them al oud. I f anyone wi shes
to utter a prol onged sound, and i f, i n forethought, he has deci ded how l ong i t shoul d
be, that man has al ready i n si l ence gone through a span of ti me, and commi tted hi s
sound to memory. Thus he begi ns to speak and hi s voi ce sounds unti l i t reaches the
predetermi ned end. I t has trul y sounded and wi l l go on soundi ng. But what i s
al ready fi ni shed has al ready sounded and what remai ns wi l l sti l l sound. Thus i t
passes on, unti l the present i ntenti on carri es the future over i nto the past. The past
i ncreases by the di mi nuti on of the future unti l by the consumpti on of al l the future
al l i s past.
449
CHAPTER XXVI I I
37. But how i s the future di mi ni shed or consumed when i t does not yet exi st?
Or how does the past, whi ch exi sts no l onger, i ncrease, unl ess i t i s that i n the mi nd
i n whi ch al l thi s happens there are three functi ons? For the mi nd expects, i t
attends, and i t remembers; so that what i t expects passes i nto what i t remembers
by way of what i t attends to. Who deni es that future thi ngs do not exi st as yet? But
sti l l there i s al ready i n the mi nd the expectati on of thi ngs sti l l future. And who
deni es that past thi ngs now exi st no l onger? Sti l l there i s i n the mi nd the memory of
thi ngs past. Who deni es that ti me present has no l ength, si nce i t passes away i n a
moment? Yet, our attenti on has a conti nui ty and i t i s through thi s that what i s
present may proceed to become absent. Therefore, future ti me, whi ch i s nonexi stent,
i s not l ong; but a l ong future i s a l ong expectati on of the future. Nor i s ti me past,
whi ch i s now no l onger, l ong; a l ong past i s a l ong memory of the past.
38. I am about to repeat a psal m that I know. Before I begi n, my attenti on
encompasses the whol e, but once I have begun, as much of i t as becomes past whi l e
I speak i s sti l l stretched out i n my memory. The span of my acti on i s di vi ded
between my memory, whi ch contai ns what I have repeated, and my expectati on,
whi ch contai ns what I am about to repeat. Yet my attenti on i s conti nual l y present
wi th me, and through i t what was future i s carri ed over so that i t becomes past. The
more thi s i s done and repeated, the more the memory i s enl arged--and expectati on
i s shortened--unti l the whol e expectati on i s exhausted. Then the whol e acti on i s
ended and passed i nto memory. And what takes pl ace i n the enti re psal m takes
pl ace al so i n each i ndi vi dual part of i t and i n each i ndi vi dual syl l abl e. Thi s al so
hol ds i n the even l onger acti on of whi ch that psal m i s onl y a porti on. The same
hol ds i n the whol e l i fe of man, of whi ch al l the acti ons of men are parts. The same
hol ds i n the whol e age of the sons of men, of whi ch al l the l i ves of men are parts.
449
Thi s theory of ti me i s worth compari ng wi th i ts most notabl e restatement i n modern poetry, i n
T.S. El i ot's Four Quartets and especi al l y "Burnt Norton."
CHAPTER XXI X
39. But si nce thy l ovi ng-ki ndness i s better than l i fe i tsel f,
450
observe how
my l i fe i s but a stretchi ng out, and how thy ri ght hand has uphel d me i n my Lord,
the Son of Man, the Medi ator between thee, the One, and us, the many--i n so many
ways and by so many means. Thus through hi m I may l ay hol d upon hi m i n whom I
am al so l ai d hol d upon; and I may be gathered up from my ol d way of l i fe to fol l ow
that One and to forget that whi ch i s behi nd, no l onger stretched out but now pul l ed
together agai n--stretchi ng forth not to what shal l be and shal l pass away but to
those thi ngs that are before me. Not di stractedl y now, but i ntentl y, I fol l ow on for
the pri ze of my heavenl y cal l i ng,
451
where I may hear the sound of thy prai se and
contempl ate thy del i ghts, whi ch nei ther come to be nor pass away.
But now my years are spent i n mourni ng.
452
And thou, O Lord, art my
comfort, my eternal Father. But I have been torn between the ti mes, the order of
whi ch I do not know, and my thoughts, even the i nmost and deepest pl aces of my
soul , are mangl ed by vari ous commoti ons unti l I shal l fl ow together i nto thee,
purged and mol ten i n the fi re of thy l ove.
CHAPTER XXX
40. And I wi l l be i mmovabl e and fi xed i n thee, and thy truth wi l l be my mol d.
And I shal l not have to endure the questi ons of those men who, as i f i n a morbi d
di sease, thi rst for more than they can hol d and say, What di d God make before he
made heaven and earth? or, How di d i t come i nto hi s mi nd to make somethi ng
when he had never before made anythi ng? Grant them, O Lord, to consi der wel l
what they are sayi ng; and grant them to see that where there i s no ti me they cannot
say never. When, therefore, he i s sai d never to have made somethi ng--what i s
thi s but to say that i t was made i n no ti me at al l ? Let them therefore see that there
coul d be no ti me wi thout a created worl d, and l et them cease to speak vani ty of thi s
ki nd. Let them al so be stretched out to those thi ngs whi ch are before them, and
understand that thou, the eternal Creator of al l ti mes, art before al l ti mes and that
no ti mes are coeternal wi th thee; nor i s any creature, even i f there i s a creature
above ti me.
CHAPTER XXXI
41. O Lord my God, what a chasm there i s i n thy deep secret! How far short of
i t have the consequences of my si ns cast me? Heal my eyes, that I may enjoy thy
l i ght. Surel y, i f there i s a mi nd that so greatl y abounds i n knowl edge and
foreknowl edge, to whi ch al l thi ngs past and future are as wel l known as one psal m
i s wel l known to me, that mi nd woul d be an exceedi ng marvel and al together
astoni shi ng. For whatever i s past and whatever i s yet to come woul d be no more
conceal ed from hi m than the past and future of that psal m were hi dden from me
when I was chanti ng i t: how much of i t had been sung from the begi nni ng and what
and how much sti l l remai ned ti l l the end. But far be i t from thee, O Creator of the
uni verse, and Creator of our soul s and bodi es--far be i t from thee that thou shoul dst
merel y know al l thi ngs past and future. Far, far more wonderful l y, and far more
mysteri ousl y thou knowest them. For i t i s not as the feel i ngs of one si ngi ng fami l i ar
450
Ps. 63:3.
451
Cf. Phi l . 3:12-14.
452
Cf. Ps. 31:10.
songs, or heari ng a fami l i ar song i n whi ch, because of hi s expectati on of words sti l l
to come and hi s remembrance of those that are past, hi s feel i ngs are vari ed and hi s
senses are di vi ded. Thi s i s not the way that anythi ng happens to thee, who art
unchangeabl y eternal , that i s, the trul y eternal Creator of mi nds. As i n the
begi nni ng thou knewest both the heaven and the earth wi thout any change i n thy
knowl edge, so thou di dst make heaven and earth i n thei r begi nni ngs wi thout any
di vi si on i n thy acti on.
453
Let hi m who understands thi s confess to thee; and l et hi m
who does not understand al so confess to thee! Oh, exal ted as thou art, sti l l the
humbl e i n heart are thy dwel l i ng pl ace! For thou l i ftest them who are cast down and
they fal l not for whom thou art the Most Hi gh.
454
453
Note here the preparati on for the transi ti on from thi s anal ysi s of ti me i n Bk. XI to the expl orati on
of the mystery of creati on i n Bks. XI I and XI I I .
454
Celsitudo, an honori fi c ti tl e, somewhat l i ke "Your Hi ghness."
BOOK TWELVE
The mode of creation and the truth of Scripture. Augustine explores the relation of
the visible and formed matter of heaven and earth to the prior matrix from which it
was formed. This leads to an intricate analysis of unformed matter and the primal
possibility from which God created, itself created de ni hi l o. He finds a reference to
this in the misconstrued Scriptural phrase the heaven of heavens. Realizing that
his interpretation of Gen. 1:1, 2, is not self-evidently the only possibility, Augustine
turns to an elaborate discussion of the multiplicity of perspectives in hermeneutics
and, in the course of this, reviews the various possibilities of true interpretation of his
Scripture text. He emphasizes the importance of tolerance where there are plural
options, and confidence where basic Christian faith is concerned.
CHAPTER I
1. My heart i s deepl y sti rred, O Lord, when i n thi s poor l i fe of mi ne the words
of thy Hol y Scri pture stri ke upon i t. Thi s i s why the poverty of the human i ntel l ect
expresses i tsel f i n an abundance of l anguage. I nqui ry i s more l oquaci ous than
di scovery. Demandi ng takes l onger than obtai ni ng; and the hand that knocks i s
more acti ve than the hand that recei ves. But we have the promi se, and who shal l
break i t? I f God be for us, who can be agai nst us?
455
Ask, and you shal l recei ve;
seek, and you shal l fi nd; knock, and i t shal l be opened unto you; for everyone that
asks recei ves, and he who seeks fi nds, and to hi m that knocks, i t shal l be
opened.
456
These are thy own promi ses, and who need fear to be decei ved when
truth promi ses?
CHAPTER I I
2. I n l owl i ness my tongue confesses to thy exal tati on, for thou madest heaven
and earth. Thi s heaven whi ch I see, and thi s earth on whi ch I wal k--from whi ch
came thi s earth that I carry about me--thou di dst make.
But where i s that heaven of heavens, O Lord, of whi ch we hear i n the words
of the psal m, The heaven of heavens i s the Lords, but the earth he hath gi ven to
the chi l dren of men?
457
Where i s the heaven that we cannot see, i n rel ati on to
whi ch al l that we can see i s earth? For thi s whol e corporeal creati on has been
beauti ful l y formed--though not everywhere i n i ts enti rety--and our earth i s the
l owest of these l evel s. Sti l l , compared wi th that heaven of heavens, even the heaven
of our own earth i s onl y earth. I ndeed, i t i s not absurd to cal l each of those two great
bodi es
458
earth i n compari son wi th that i neffabl e heaven whi ch i s the Lords, and
455
Rom. 8:31.
456
Matt. 7:7, 8.
457
Vul gate, Ps. 113:16 (cf. Ps. 115:16, K.J.; see al so Ps. 148:4, both Vul gate and K.J.): Caelum caeli
domino, etc. Augusti ne fi nds a di sti ncti on here for whi ch the Hebrew text gi ves no warrant. The
Hebrew i s a typi cal nomi nal sentence and means si mpl y "The heavens are the heavens of Yahweh";
cf. the Sonci no edi ti on of The Psal ms, edi ted by A. Cohen; cf. al so R.S.V., Ps. 115:16. The LXX
readi ng ( ) seems to rest on a vari ant Hebrew text. Thi s i di omati c constructi on
does not mean "the heavens of the heavens" (as i t i s too l i teral l y transl ated i n the LXX), but rather
"hi ghest heaven." Thi s i s a fami l i ar way, i n Hebrew, of emphasi zi ng a superl ati ve (e.g., "Ki ng of
ki ngs," "Song of songs"). The si ngul ar thi ng can be descri bed superl ati vel y onl y i n terms of i tsel f!
458
Earth and sky.
not for the sons of men.
CHAPTER I I I
3. And trul y thi s earth was i nvi si bl e and unformed,
459
and there was an
i nexpressi bl y profound abyss
460
above whi ch there was no l i ght si nce i t had no form.
Thou di dst command i t wri tten that darkness was on the face of the deep.
461
What
el se i s darkness except the absence of l i ght? For i f there had been l i ght, where
woul d i t have been except by bei ng over al l , showi ng i tsel f ri si ng al oft and gi vi ng
l i ght? Therefore, where there was no l i ght as yet, why was i t that darkness was
present, unl ess i t was that l i ght was absent? Darkness, then, was heavy upon i t,
because the l i ght from above was absent; just as there i s si l ence where there i s no
sound. And what i s i t to have si l ence anywhere but si mpl y not to have sound? Hast
thou not, O Lord, taught thi s soul whi ch confesses to thee? Hast thou not thus
taught me, O Lord, that before thou di dst form and separate thi s forml ess matter
there was nothing: nei ther col or, nor fi gure, nor body, nor spi ri t? Yet i t was not
absol utel y nothi ng; i t was a certai n forml essness wi thout any shape.
CHAPTER I V
4. What, then, shoul d that forml essness be cal l ed so that somehow i t mi ght be
i ndi cated to those of sl uggi sh mi nd, unl ess we use some word i n common speech?
But what can be found anywhere i n the worl d nearer to a total forml essness than
the earth and the abyss? Because of thei r bei ng on the l owest l evel , they are l ess
beauti ful than are the other and hi gher parts, al l transl ucent and shi ni ng.
Therefore, why may I not consi der the forml essness of matter--whi ch thou di dst
create wi thout shapel y form, from whi ch to make thi s shapel y worl d--as fi tti ngl y
i ndi cated to men by the phrase, The earth i nvi si bl e and unformed?
CHAPTER V
5. When our thought seeks somethi ng for our sense to fasten to [i n thi s
concept of unformed matter], and when i t says to i tsel f, I t i s not an i ntel l i gi bl e
form, such as l i fe or justi ce, si nce i t i s the materi al for bodi es; and i t i s not a former
percepti on, for there i s nothi ng i n the i nvi si bl e and unformed whi ch can be seen and
fel t--whi l e human thought says such thi ngs to i tsel f, i t may be attempti ng ei ther to
know by bei ng i gnorant or by knowi ng how not to know.
CHAPTER VI
6. But i f, O Lord, I am to confess to thee, by my mouth and my pen, the whol e
of what thou hast taught me concerni ng thi s unformed matter, I must say fi rst of al l
that when I fi rst heard of such matter and di d not understand i t--and those who
459
I t i s i nteresti ng that Augusti ne shoul d have preferred the invisibilis et incomposita of the Ol d
Lati n versi on of Gen. 1:2 over the inanis et vacua of the Vul gate, whi ch was surel y accessi bl e to hi m.
Si nce thi s i s to be a key phrase i n the succeedi ng exegesi s thi s readi ng can hardl y have been the
casual ci tati on of the ol d and fami l i ar versi on. I s i t possi bl e that Augusti ne may have had the
sensi bi l i ti es and associ ati ons of hi s readers i n mi nd--for many of them may have not known Jerome's
versi on or, at l east, not very wel l ?
460
Abyssus, l i teral l y, the unpl umbed depths of the sea, and as a constant meani ng here, "the depths
beyond measure."
461
Gen. 1:2.
tol d me of i t coul d not understand i t ei ther--I concei ved of i t as havi ng countl ess and
vari ed forms. Thus, I di d not thi nk about i t ri ghtl y. My mi nd i n i ts agi tati on used to
turn up al l sorts of foul and horri bl e forms; but sti l l they were forms. And sti l l I
cal l ed i t forml ess, not because i t was unformed, but because i t had what seemed to
me a ki nd of form that my mi nd turned away from, as bi zarre and i ncongruous,
before whi ch my human weakness was confused. And even what I di d concei ve of as
unformed was so, not because i t was depri ved of al l form, but onl y as i t compared
wi th more beauti ful forms. Ri ght reason, then, persuaded me that I ought to remove
al together al l vesti ges of form whatever i f I wi shed to concei ve matter that was
whol l y unformed; and thi s I coul d not do. For I coul d more readi l y i magi ne that
what was depri ved of al l form si mpl y di d not exi st than I coul d concei ve of anythi ng
between form and nothi ng--somethi ng whi ch was nei ther formed nor nothi ng,
somethi ng that was unformed and nearl y nothi ng.
Thus my mi nd ceased to questi on my spi ri t--fi l l ed as i t was wi th the i mages
of formed bodi es, changi ng and varyi ng them accordi ng to i ts wi l l . And so I appl i ed
mysel f to the bodi es themsel ves and l ooked more deepl y i nto thei r mutabi l i ty, by
whi ch they cease to be what they had been and begi n to be what they were not. Thi s
transi ti on from form to form I had regarded as i nvol vi ng somethi ng l i ke a forml ess
condi ti on, though not actual nothi ngness.
462
But I desi red to know, not to guess. And, i f my voi ce and my pen were to
confess to thee al l the vari ous knots thou hast unti ed for me about thi s questi on,
who among my readers coul d endure to grasp the whol e of the account? Sti l l , despi te
thi s, my heart wi l l not cease to gi ve honor to thee or to si ng thy prai ses concerni ng
those thi ngs whi ch i t i s not abl e to express.
463
For the mutabi l i ty of mutabl e thi ngs carri es wi th i t the possi bi l i ty of al l those
forms i nto whi ch mutabl e thi ngs can be changed. But thi s mutabi l i ty--what i s i t? I s
i t soul ? I s i t body? I s i t the external appearance of soul or body? Coul d i t be sai d,
Nothi ng was somethi ng, and That whi ch i s, i s not? I f thi s were possi bl e, I woul d
say that thi s was i t, and i n some such manner i t must have been i n order to recei ve
these vi si bl e and composi te forms.
464
CHAPTER VI I
7. Whence and how was thi s, unl ess i t came from thee, from whom al l thi ngs
are, i n so far as they are? But the farther somethi ng i s from thee, the more unl i ke
thee i t i s--and thi s i s not a matter of di stance or pl ace.
Thus i t was that thou, O Lord, who art not one thi ng i n one pl ace and another
thi ng i n another pl ace but the Sel fsame, and the Sel fsame, and the Sel fsame--Hol y,
Hol y, Hol y, Lord God Al mi ghty
465
--thus i t was that i n the begi nni ng, and through
thy Wi sdom whi ch i s from thee and born of thy substance, thou di dst create
somethi ng and that out of nothi ng.
466
For thou di dst create the heaven and the
earth--not out of thysel f, for then they woul d be equal to thy onl y Son and thereby to
thee. And there i s no sense i n whi ch i t woul d be ri ght that anythi ng shoul d be equal
462
Augusti ne may not have known the Pl atoni c doctri ne of nonbei ng (cf. Sophist, 236C-237B), but he
cl earl y i s deepl y i nfl uenced here by Pl oti nus; cf. Enneads, I I , 4:8f., where matter i s anal yzed as a
substratum wi thout quanti ty or qual i ty; and 4:15: "Matter, then, must be descri bed as
(the i ndefi ni te). . . . Matter i s i ndetermi nateness and nothi ng el se." I n short, materia informis i s
sheer possi bi l i ty; not anythi ng and not nothi ng!
463
Dictare: was Augusti ne di ctati ng hi s Confessions? I t i s very probabl e.
464
Visibiles et compositas, the opposi te of "i nvi si bl e and unformed."
465
I sa. 6:3; Rev. 4:8.
466
De nihilo.
to thee that was not of thee. But what el se besi des thee was there out of whi ch thou
mi ghtest create these thi ngs, O God, one Tri ni ty, and tri ne Uni ty?
467
And, therefore,
i t was out of nothi ng at al l that thou di dst create the heaven and earth--somethi ng
great and somethi ng smal l --for thou art Al mi ghty and Good, and abl e to make al l
thi ngs good: even the great heaven and the smal l earth. Thou wast, and there was
nothi ng el se from whi ch thou di dst create heaven and earth: these two thi ngs, one
near thee, the other near to nothi ng; the one to whi ch onl y thou art superi or, the
other to whi ch nothi ng el se i s i nferi or.
CHAPTER VI I I
8. That heaven of heavens was thi ne, O Lord, but the earth whi ch thou di dst
gi ve to the sons of men to be seen and touched was not then i n the same form as
that i n whi ch we now see i t and touch i t. For then i t was i nvi si bl e and unformed
and there was an abyss over whi ch there was no l i ght. The darkness was trul y over
the abyss, that i s, more than just in the abyss. For thi s abyss of waters whi ch now i s
vi si bl e has even i n i ts depths a certai n l i ght appropri ate to i ts nature, percepti bl e i n
some fashi on to fi shes and the thi ngs that creep about on the bottom of i t. But then
the enti re abyss was al most nothi ng, si nce i t was sti l l al together unformed. Yet
even there, there was somethi ng that had the possi bi l i ty of bei ng formed. For thou,
O Lord, hadst made the worl d out of unformed matter, and thi s thou di dst make out
of nothi ng and di dst make i t i nto al most nothi ng. From i t thou hast then made
these great thi ngs whi ch we, the sons of men, marvel at. For thi s corporeal heaven
i s trul y marvel ous, thi s fi rmament between the water and the waters whi ch thou
di dst make on the second day after the creati on of l i ght, sayi ng, Let i t be done, and
i t was done.
468
Thi s fi rmament thou di dst cal l heaven, that i s, the heaven of thi s
earth and sea whi ch thou madest on the thi rd day, gi vi ng a vi si bl e shape to the
unformed matter whi ch thou hadst made before al l the days. For even before any
day thou hadst al ready made a heaven, but that was the heaven of thi s heaven: for
i n the begi nni ng thou hadst made heaven and earth.
But thi s earth i tsel f whi ch thou hadst made was unformed matter; i t was
i nvi si bl e and unformed, and darkness was over the abyss. Out of thi s i nvi si bl e and
unformed earth, out of thi s forml essness whi ch i s al most nothi ng, thou di dst then
make al l these thi ngs of whi ch the changeabl e worl d consi sts--and yet does not ful l y
consi st i n i tsel f
469
--for i ts very changeabl eness appears i n thi s, that i ts ti mes and
seasons can be observed and numbered. The peri ods of ti me are measured by the
changes of thi ngs, whi l e the forms, whose matter i s the i nvi si bl e earth of whi ch we
have spoken, are vari ed and al tered.
CHAPTER I X
9. And therefore the Spi ri t, the Teacher of thy servant,
470
when he menti ons
that i n the begi nni ng thou madest heaven and earth, says nothi ng about ti mes
and i s si l ent as to the days. For, cl earl y, that heaven of heavens whi ch thou di dst
create i n the begi nni ng i s i n some way an i ntel l ectual creature, al though i n no way
coeternal wi th thee, O Tri ni ty. Yet i t i s nonethel ess a partaker i n thy eterni ty.
Because of the sweetness of i ts most happy contempl ati on of thee, i t i s greatl y
467
Trina unitas.
468
Cf. Gen. 1:6.
469
Constat et non constat, the created earth real l y exi sts but never i s sel f-suffi ci ent.
470
Moses.
restrai ned i n i ts own mutabi l i ty and cl eaves to thee wi thout any l apse from the ti me
i n whi ch i t was created, surpassi ng al l the rol l i ng change of ti me. But thi s
shapel essness--thi s earth i nvi si bl e and unformed--was not numbered among the
days i tsel f. For where there i s no shape or order there i s nothi ng that ei ther comes
or goes, and where thi s does not occur there certai nl y are no days, nor any
vi ci ssi tude of durati on.
CHAPTER X
10. O Truth, O Li ght of my heart, l et not my own darkness speak to me! I had
fal l en i nto that darkness and was darkened thereby. But i n i t, even i n i ts depths, I
came to l ove thee. I went astray and sti l l I remembered thee. I heard thy voi ce
behi nd me, bi ddi ng me return, though I coul d scarcel y hear i t for the tumul ts of my
boi sterous passi ons. And now, behol d, I am returni ng, burni ng and thi rsti ng after
thy fountai n. Let no one hi nder me; here wi l l I dri nk and so have l i fe. Let me not be
my own l i fe; for of mysel f I have l i ved badl y. I was death to mysel f; i n thee I have
revi ved. Speak to me; converse wi th me. I have bel i eved thy books, and thei r words
are very deep.
CHAPTER XI
11. Thou hast tol d me al ready, O Lord, wi th a strong voi ce i n my i nner ear,
that thou art eternal and al one hast i mmortal i ty. Thou art not changed by any
shape or moti on, and thy wi l l i s not al tered by temporal process, because no wi l l
that changes i s i mmortal . Thi s i s cl ear to me, i n thy si ght; l et i t become cl earer and
cl earer, I beseech thee. I n that l i ght l et me abi de soberl y under thy wi ngs.
Thou hast al so tol d me, O Lord, wi th a strong voi ce i n my i nner ear, that thou
hast created al l natures and al l substances, whi ch are not what thou art thysel f;
and yet they do exi st. Onl y that whi ch i s nothi ng at al l i s not from thee, and that
moti on of the wi l l away from thee, who art, toward somethi ng that exi sts onl y i n a
l esser degree--such a moti on i s an offense and a si n. No ones si n ei ther hurts thee
or di sturbs the order of thy rul e, ei ther fi rst or l ast. Al l thi s, i n thy si ght, i s cl ear to
me. Let i t become cl earer and cl earer, I beseech thee, and i n that l i ght l et me abi de
soberl y under thy wi ngs.
12. Li kewi se, thou hast tol d me, wi th a strong voi ce i n my i nner ear, that thi s
creati on--whose del i ght thou al one art--i s not coeternal wi th thee. Wi th a most
perseveri ng puri ty i t draws i ts support from thee and nowhere and never betrays i ts
own mutabi l i ty, for thou art ever present wi th i t; and i t cl eaves to thee wi th i ts
enti re affecti on, havi ng no future to expect and no past that i t remembers; i t i s
vari ed by no change and i s extended by no ti me.
O bl essed one--i f such there be--cl i ngi ng to thy bl essedness! I t i s bl est i n thee,
i ts everl asti ng I nhabi tant and i ts Li ght. I cannot fi nd a term that I woul d judge
more fi tti ng for the heaven of the heavens of the Lord than Thy house--whi ch
contempl ates thy del i ghts wi thout any decl i nati on toward anythi ng el se and whi ch,
wi th a pure mi nd i n most harmoni ous stabi l i ty, joi ns al l together i n the peace of
those sai ntl y spi ri ts who are ci ti zens of thy ci ty i n those heavens that are above thi s
vi si bl e heaven.
13. From thi s l et the soul that has wandered far away from thee understand--
i f now i t thi rsts for thee; i f now i ts tears have become i ts bread, whi l e dai l y they say
to i t, Where i s your God?
471
; i f now i t requests of thee just one thi ng and seeks
471
Ps. 42:3, 10.
after thi s: that i t may dwel l i n thy house al l the days of i ts l i fe (and what i s i ts l i fe
but thee? And what are thy days but thy eterni ty, l i ke thy years whi ch do not fai l ,
si nce thou art the Sel fsame?)--from thi s, I say, l et the soul understand (as far as i t
can) how far above al l ti mes thou art i n thy eterni ty; and how thy house has never
wandered away from thee; and, al though i t i s not coeternal wi th thee, i t conti nual l y
and unfai l i ngl y cl i ngs to thee and suffers no vi ci ssi tudes of ti me. Thi s, i n thy si ght,
i s cl ear to me; may i t become cl earer and cl earer to me, I beseech thee, and i n thi s
l i ght may I abi de soberl y under thy wi ngs.
14. Now I do not know what ki nd of forml essness there i s i n these mutati ons
of these l ast and l owest creatures. Yet who wi l l tel l me, unl ess i t i s someone who, i n
the empti ness of hi s own heart, wanders about and begi ns to be di zzy i n hi s own
fanci es? Who except such a one woul d tel l me whether, i f al l form were di mi ni shed
and consumed, forml essness al one woul d remai n, through whi ch a thi ng was
changed and turned from one speci es i nto another, so that sheer forml essness woul d
then be characteri zed by temporal change? And surel y thi s coul d not be, because
wi thout moti on there i s no ti me, and where there i s no form there i s no change.
CHAPTER XI I
15. These thi ngs I have consi dered as thou hast gi ven me abi l i ty, O my God,
as thou hast exci ted me to knock, and as thou hast opened to me when I knock. Two
thi ngs I fi nd whi ch thou hast made, not wi thi n i nterval s of ti me, al though nei ther i s
coeternal wi th thee. One of them i s so formed that, wi thout any waveri ng i n i ts
contempl ati on, wi thout any i nterval of change--mutabl e but not changed--i t may
ful l y enjoy thy eterni ty and i mmutabi l i ty. The other i s so forml ess that i t coul d not
change from one form to another (ei ther of moti on or of rest), and so ti me has no
hol d upon i t. But thou di dst not l eave thi s forml ess, for, before any day i n the
begi nni ng, thou di dst create heaven and earth--these are the two thi ngs of whi ch I
spoke.
But the earth was i nvi si bl e and unformed, and darkness was over the
abyss. By these words i ts forml essness i s i ndi cated to us--so that by degrees they
may be l ed forward who cannot whol l y concei ve of the pri vati on of al l form wi thout
arri vi ng at nothi ng. From thi s forml essness a second heaven mi ght be created and a
second earth--vi si bl e and wel l formed, wi th the ordered beauty of the waters, and
whatever el se i s recorded as created (though not wi thout days) i n the formati on of
thi s worl d. And al l thi s because such thi ngs are so ordered that i n them the changes
of ti me may take pl ace through the ordered processes of moti on and form.
CHAPTER XI I I
16. Meanwhi l e thi s i s what I understand, O my God, when I hear thy
Scri pture sayi ng, I n the begi nni ng God made the heaven and the earth, but the
earth was i nvi si bl e and unformed, and darkness was over the abyss. I t does not say
on what day thou di dst create these thi ngs. Thus, for the ti me bei ng I understand
that heaven of heavens to mean the i ntel l i gi bl e heaven, where to understand i s to
know al l at once--not i n part, not darkl y, not through a gl ass--but as a
si mul taneous whol e, i n ful l si ght, face to face.
472
I t i s not thi s thi ng now and then
another thi ng, but (as we sai d) knowl edge al l at once wi thout any temporal change.
And by the i nvi si bl e and unformed earth, I understand that whi ch suffers no
temporal vi ci ssi tude. Temporal change customari l y means havi ng one thi ng now
472
Cor. 13:12.
and another l ater; but where there i s no form there can be no di sti ncti on between
thi s or that. I t i s, then, by means of these two--one thi ng wel l formed i n the
begi nni ng and another thi ng whol l y unformed, the one heaven (that i s, the heaven
of heavens) and the other one earth (but the earth i nvi si bl e and unformed)--i t i s by
means of these two noti ons that I am abl e to understand why thy Scri pture sai d,
wi thout menti on of days, I n the begi nni ng God created the heaven and the earth.
For i t i mmedi atel y i ndi cated whi ch earth i t was speaki ng about. When, on the
second day, the fi rmament i s recorded as havi ng been created and cal l ed heaven,
thi s suggests to us whi ch heaven i t was that he was speaki ng about earl i er, wi thout
speci fyi ng a day.
CHAPTER XI V
17. Marvel ous i s the depth of thy oracl es. Thei r surface i s before us, i nvi ti ng
the l i ttl e ones; and yet wonderful i s thei r depth, O my God, marvel ous i s thei r
depth! I t i s a fearful thi ng to l ook i nto them: an awe of honor and a tremor of l ove.
Thei r enemi es I hate vehementl y. Oh, i f thou woul dst sl ay them wi th thy two-edged
sword, so that they shoul d not be enemi es! For I woul d prefer that they shoul d be
sl ai n to themsel ves, that they mi ght l i ve to thee. But see, there are others who are
not cri ti cs but prai sers of the book of Genesi s; they say: The Spi ri t of God who
wrote these thi ngs by hi s servant Moses di d not wi sh these words to be understood
l i ke thi s. He di d not wi sh to have i t understood as you say, but as we say. To them,
O God of us al l , thysel f bei ng the judge, I gi ve answer.
CHAPTER XV
18. Wi l l you say that these thi ngs are fal se whi ch Truth tel l s me, wi th a l oud
voi ce i n my i nner ear, about the very eterni ty of the Creator: that hi s essence i s
changed i n no respect by ti me and that hi s wi l l i s not di sti nct from hi s essence?
Thus, he doth not wi l l one thi ng now and another thi ng l ater, but he wi l l eth once
and for al l everythi ng that he wi l l eth--not agai n and agai n; and not now thi s and
now that. Nor does he wi l l afterward what he di d not wi l l before, nor does he cease
to wi l l what he had wi l l ed before. Such a wi l l woul d be mutabl e and no mutabl e
thi ng i s eternal . But our God i s eternal .
Agai n, he tel l s me i n my i nner ear that the expectati on of future thi ngs i s
turned to si ght when they have come to pass. And thi s same si ght i s turned i nto
memory when they have passed. Moreover, al l thought that vari es thus i s mutabl e,
and nothi ng mutabl e i s eternal . But our God i s eternal . These thi ngs I sum up and
put together, and I concl ude that my God, the eternal God, hath not made any
creature by any new wi l l , and hi s knowl edge does not admi t anythi ng transi tory.
19. What, then, wi l l you say to thi s, you objectors? Are these thi ngs fal se?
No, they say. What then? I s i t fal se that every enti ty al ready formed and al l
matter capabl e of recei vi ng form i s from hi m al one who i s supremel y good, because
he i s supreme? We do not deny thi s, ei ther, they say. What then? Do you deny
thi s: that there i s a certai n subl i me created order whi ch cl eaves wi th such a chaste
l ove to the true and trul y eternal God that, al though i t i s not coeternal wi th hi m, yet
i t does not separate i tsel f from hi m, and does not fl ow away i nto any mutati on of
change or process but abi des i n true contempl ati on of hi m al one? I f thou, O God,
dost show thysel f to hi m who l oves thee as thou hast commanded--and art suffi ci ent
for hi m--then, such a one wi l l nei ther turn hi msel f away from thee nor turn away
toward hi msel f. Thi s i s the house of God. I t i s not an earthl y house and i t i s not
made from any cel esti al matter; but i t i s a spi ri tual house, and i t partakes i n thy
eterni ty because i t i s wi thout bl emi sh forever. For thou hast made i t steadfast
forever and ever; thou hast gi ven i t a l aw whi ch wi l l not be removed. Sti l l , i t i s not
coeternal wi th thee, O God, si nce i t i s not wi thout begi nni ng--i t was created.
20. For, al though we can fi nd no ti me before i t (for wi sdom was created before
al l thi ngs),
473
thi s i s certai nl y not that Wi sdom whi ch i s absol utel y coeternal and
equal wi th thee, our God, i ts Father, the Wi sdom through whom al l thi ngs were
created and i n whom, i n the begi nni ng, thou di dst create the heaven and earth. Thi s
i s trul y the created Wi sdom, namel y, the i ntel l i gi bl e nature whi ch, i n i ts
contempl ati on of l i ght, i s l i ght. For thi s i s al so cal l ed wi sdom, even i f i t i s a created
wi sdom. But the di fference between the Li ght that l i ghtens and that whi ch i s
enl i ghtened i s as great as i s the di fference between the Wi sdom that creates and
that whi ch i s created. So al so i s the di fference between the Ri ghteousness that
justi fi es and the ri ghteousness that i s made by justi fi cati on. For we al so are cal l ed
thy ri ghteousness, for a certai n servant of thi ne says, That we mi ght be made the
ri ghteousness of God i n hi m.
474
Therefore, there i s a certai n created wi sdom that
was created before al l thi ngs: the rati onal and i ntel l i gi bl e mi nd of that chaste ci ty of
thi ne. I t i s our mother whi ch i s above and i s free
475
and eternal i n the heavens
476
--
but i n what heavens except those whi ch prai se thee, the heaven of heavens? Thi s
al so i s the heaven of heavens whi ch i s the Lords--al though we fi nd no ti me before
i t, si nce what has been created before al l thi ngs al so precedes the creati on of ti me.
Sti l l , the eterni ty of the Creator hi msel f i s before i t, from whom i t took i ts begi nni ng
as created, though not i n ti me (si nce ti me as yet was not), even though ti me bel ongs
to i ts created nature.
21. Thus i t i s that the i ntel l i gi bl e heaven came to be from thee, our God, but
i n such a way that i t i s qui te another bei ng than thou art; i t i s not the Sel fsame. Yet
we fi nd that ti me i s not onl y not before i t, but not even in i t, thus maki ng i t abl e to
behol d thy face forever and not ever be turned asi de. Thus, i t i s vari ed by no change
at al l . But there i s sti l l i n i t that mutabi l i ty i n vi rtue of whi ch i t coul d become dark
and col d, i f i t di d not, by cl eavi ng to thee wi th a supernal l ove, shi ne and gl ow from
thee l i ke a perpetual noon. O house ful l of l i ght and spl endor! I have l oved your
beauty and the pl ace of the habi tati on of the gl ory of my Lord,
477
your bui l der and
possessor. I n my wanderi ng l et me si gh for you; thi s I ask of hi m who made you,
that he shoul d al so possess me i n you, seei ng that he hath al so made me. I have
gone astray l i ke a l ost sheep
478
; yet upon the shoul ders of my Shepherd, who i s your
bui l der, I have hoped that I may be brought back to you.
479
22. What wi l l you say to me now, you objectors to whom I spoke, who sti l l
bel i eve that Moses was the hol y servant of God, and that hi s books were the oracl es
of the Hol y Spi ri t? I s i t not i n thi s house of God--not coeternal wi th God, yet i n i ts
own mode eternal i n the heavens--that you vai nl y seek for temporal change? You
wi l l not fi nd i t there. I t ri ses above al l extensi on and every revol vi ng temporal
peri od, and i t ri ses to what i s forever good and cl eaves fast to God.
I t i s so, they repl y. What, then, about those thi ngs whi ch my heart cri ed
out to my God, when i t heard, wi thi n, the voi ce of hi s prai se? What, then, do you
contend i s fal se i n them? I s i t because matter was unformed, and si nce there was no
473
Cf. Eccl us. 1:4.
474
2 Cor. 5:21.
475
Cf. Gal . 4:26.
476
2 Cor. 5:1.
477
Cf. Ps. 26:8.
478
Ps. 119:176.
479
To "the house of God."
form there was no order? But where there was no order there coul d have been no
temporal change. Yet even thi s al most nothi ng, si nce i t was not al together nothi ng,
was trul y from hi m from whom everythi ng that exi sts i s i n whatever state i t i s.
Thi s al so, they say, we do not deny.
CHAPTER XVI
23. Now, I woul d l i ke to di scuss a l i ttl e further, i n thy presence, O my God,
wi th those who admi t that al l these thi ngs are true that thy Truth has i ndi cated to
my mi nd. Let those who deny these thi ngs bark and drown thei r own voi ces wi th as
much cl amor as they pl ease. I wi l l endeavor to persuade them to be qui et and to
permi t thy word to reach them. But i f they are unwi l l i ng, and i f they repel me, I ask
of thee, O my God, that thou shoul dst not be si l ent to me.
480
Speak trul y i n my
heart; i f onl y thou woul dst speak thus, I woul d send them away, bl owi ng up the
dust and rai si ng i t i n thei r own eyes. As for mysel f I wi l l enter i nto my cl oset
481
and
there si ng to thee the songs of l ove, groani ng wi th groani ngs that are unutterabl e
now i n my pi l gri mage,
482
and rememberi ng Jerusal em wi th my heart upl i fted to
Jerusal em my country, Jerusal em my mother
483
; and to thee thysel f, the Rul er of
the source of Li ght, i ts Father, Guardi an, Husband; i ts chaste and strong del i ght, i ts
sol i d joy and al l i ts goods i neffabl e--and al l of thi s at the same ti me, si nce thou art
the one supreme and true Good! And I wi l l not be turned away unti l thou hast
brought back together al l that I am from thi s di spersi on and deformi ty to the peace
of that dearest mother, where the fi rst frui ts of my spi ri t are to be found and from
whi ch al l these thi ngs are promi sed me whi ch thou dost conform and confi rm
forever, O my God, my Mercy. But as for those who do not say that al l these thi ngs
whi ch are true are fal se, who sti l l honor thy Scri pture set before us by the hol y
Moses, who joi n us i n pl aci ng i t on the summi t of authori ty for us to fol l ow, and yet
who oppose us i n some parti cul ars, I say thi s: Be thou, O God, the judge between
my confessi ons and thei r gai nsayi ng.
CHAPTER XVI I
24. For they say: Even i f these thi ngs are true, sti l l Moses di d not refer to
these two thi ngs when he sai d, by di vi ne revel ati on, I n the begi nni ng God created
the heaven and the earth. By the term heaven he di d not mean that spi ri tual or
i ntel l i gi bl e created order whi ch al ways behol ds the face of God. And by the term
earth he was not referri ng to unformed matter.
What then do these terms mean?
They repl y, That man [Moses] meant what we mean; thi s i s what he was
sayi ng i n those terms. What i s that?
By the terms of heaven and earth, they say, he wi shed fi rst to i ndi cate
uni versal l y and bri efl y thi s whol e vi si bl e worl d; then after thi s, by an enumerati on
of the days, he coul d poi nt out, one by one, al l the thi ngs that i t has pl eased the
Hol y Spi ri t to reveal i n thi s way. For the peopl e to whom he spoke were rude and
carnal , so that he judged i t prudent that onl y those works of God whi ch were vi si bl e
480
Cf. Ps. 28:1.
481
Cubile, i .e., the heart.
482
Cf. Rom. 8:26.
483
The heavenl y Jerusal em of Gal . 4:26, whi ch had become a favori te Chri sti an symbol of the peace
and bl essedness of heaven; cf. the vari ous versi ons of the hymn "Jerusal em, My Happy Home" i n
Jul i an's Dictionary of Hymnology, pp. 580-583. The ori gi nal text i s found i n the Liber meditationum,
erroneousl y ascri bed to Augusti ne hi msel f.
shoul d be menti oned to them.
But they do agree that the phrases, The earth was i nvi si bl e and unformed,
and The darkened abyss, may not i nappropri atel y be understood to refer to thi s
unformed matter--and that out of thi s, as i t i s subsequentl y rel ated, al l the vi si bl e
thi ngs whi ch are known to al l were made and set i n order duri ng those speci fi ed
days.
25. But now, what i f another one shoul d say, Thi s same forml essness and
chaos of matter was fi rst menti oned by the name of heaven and earth because, out
of i t, thi s vi si bl e worl d--wi th al l i ts enti ti es whi ch cl earl y appear i n i t and whi ch we
are accustomed to be cal l ed by the name of heaven and earth--was created and
perfected? And what i f sti l l another shoul d say: The i nvi si bl e and vi si bl e nature i s
qui te fi tti ngl y cal l ed heaven and earth. Thus, the whol e creati on whi ch God has
made i n hi s wi sdom--that i s, i n the begi nni ng--was i ncl uded under these two terms.
Yet, si nce al l thi ngs have been made, not from the essence of God, but from nothi ng;
and because they are not the same real i ty that God i s; and because there i s i n them
al l a certai n mutabi l i ty, whether they abi de as the eternal house of God abi des or
whether they are changed as the soul and body of man are changed--then the
common matter of al l thi ngs i nvi si bl e and vi si bl e (sti l l forml ess but capabl e of
recei vi ng form) from whi ch heaven and earth were to be created (that i s, the
creature al ready fashi oned, i nvi si bl e as wel l as vi si bl e)--al l thi s was spoken of i n the
same terms by whi ch the i nvi si bl e and unformed earth and the darkness over the
abyss woul d be cal l ed. There was thi s di fference, however: that the i nvi si bl e and
unformed earth i s to be understood as havi ng corporeal matter before i t had any
manner of form; but the darkness over the abyss was spiritual matter, before i ts
unl i mi ted fl ui di ty was harnessed, and before i t was enl i ghtened by Wi sdom.
26. And i f anyone wi shed, he mi ght al so say, The enti ti es al ready perfected
and formed, i nvi si bl e and vi si bl e, are not si gni fi ed by the terms heaven and earth,
when i t reads, I n the begi nni ng God created the heaven and the earth; i nstead, the
unformed begi nni ng of thi ngs, the matter capabl e of recei vi ng form and bei ng made
was cal l ed by these terms--because the chaos was contai ned i n i t and was not yet
di sti ngui shed by qual i ti es and forms, whi ch have now been arranged i n thei r own
orders and are cal l ed heaven and earth: the former a spi ri tual creati on, the l atter a
physi cal creati on.
CHAPTER XVI I I
27. When al l these thi ngs have been sai d and consi dered, I am unwi l l i ng to
contend about words, for such contenti on i s profi tabl e for nothi ng but the subverti ng
of the hearer.
484
But the l aw i s profi tabl e for edi fi cati on i f a man use i t l awful l y: for
the end of the l aw i s l ove out of a pure heart, and a good consci ence, and fai th
unfei gned.
485
And our Master knew i t wel l , for i t was on these two commandments
that he hung al l the Law and the Prophets. And how woul d i t harm me, O my God,
thou Li ght of my eyes i n secret, i f whi l e I am ardentl y confessi ng these thi ngs--si nce
many di fferent thi ngs may be understood from these words, al l of whi ch may be
true--what harm woul d be done i f I shoul d i nterpret the meani ng of the sacred
wri ter di fferentl y from the way some other man i nterprets? I ndeed, al l of us who
read are tryi ng to trace out and understand what our author wi shed to convey; and
si nce we bel i eve that he speaks trul y we dare not suppose that he has spoken
anythi ng that we ei ther know or suppose to be fal se. Therefore, si nce every person
484
Cf. 2 Ti m. 2:14.
485
1 Ti m. 1:5.
tri es to understand i n the Hol y Scri pture what the wri ter understood, what harm i s
done i f a man understands what thou, the Li ght of al l truth-speaki ng mi nds,
showest hi m to be true, al though the author he reads di d not understand thi s aspect
of the truth even though he di d understand the truth i n a di fferent meani ng?
486
CHAPTER XI X
487
28. For i t i s certai nl y true, O Lord, that thou di dst create the heaven and the
earth. I t i s al so true that the begi nni ng i s thy wi sdom i n whi ch thou di dst create
al l thi ngs. I t i s l i kewi se true that thi s vi si bl e worl d has i ts own great di vi si on (the
heaven and the earth) and these two terms i ncl ude al l enti ti es that have been made
and created. I t i s further true that everythi ng mutabl e confronts our mi nds wi th a
certai n l ack of form, whereby i t recei ves form, or whereby i t i s capabl e of taki ng
form. I t i s true, yet agai n, that what cl eaves to the changel ess form so cl osel y that
even though i t i s mutabl e i t i s not changed i s not subject to temporal process. I t i s
true that the forml essness whi ch i s al most nothi ng cannot have temporal change i n
i t. I t i s true that that from whi ch somethi ng i s made can, i n a manner of speaki ng,
be cal l ed by the same name as the thi ng that i s made from i t. Thus that
forml essness of whi ch heaven and earth were made mi ght be cal l ed heaven and
earth. I t i s true that of al l thi ngs havi ng form nothi ng i s nearer to the unformed
than the earth and the abyss. I t i s true that not onl y every created and formed thi ng
but al so everythi ng capabl e of creati on and of form were created by Thee, from
whom al l thi ngs are.
488
I t i s true, fi nal l y, that everythi ng that i s formed from what
i s forml ess was forml ess before i t was formed.
CHAPTER XX
29. From al l these truths, whi ch are not doubted by those to whom thou hast
granted i nsi ght i n such thi ngs i n thei r i nner eye and who bel i eve unshakabl y that
thy servant Moses spoke i n the spi ri t of truth--from al l these truths, then, one man
takes the sense of I n the begi nni ng God created the heaven and the earth to mean,
I n hi s Word, coeternal wi th hi msel f, God made both the i ntel l i gi bl e and the
tangi bl e, the spi ri tual and the corporeal creati on. Another takes i t i n a di fferent
sense, that I n the begi nni ng God created the heaven and the earth means, I n hi s
Word, coeternal wi th hi msel f, God made the uni versal mass of thi s corporeal worl d,
wi th al l the observabl e and known enti ti es that i t contai ns. Sti l l another fi nds a
di fferent meani ng, that I n the begi nni ng God created the heaven and the earth
means, I n hi s Word, coeternal wi th hi msel f, God made the unformed matter of the
spi ri tual and corporeal creati on. Another can take the sense that I n the begi nni ng
God created the heaven and the earth means, I n hi s Word, coeternal wi th hi msel f,
God made the unformed matter of the physi cal creati on, i n whi ch heaven and earth
were as yet i ndi sti ngui shed; but now that they have come to be separated and
486
Thi s i s the basi s of Augusti ne's defense of al l egory as both l egi ti mate and profi tabl e i n the
i nterpretati on of Scri pture. He di d not mean that there i s a pl ural i ty of l i teral truths i n Scri pture but
a mul ti pl i ci ty of perspecti ves on truth whi ch amounted to di fferent l evel s and i nterpretati ons of
truth. Thi s gave Augusti ne the basi s for a posi ti ve tol erance of varyi ng i nterpretati ons whi ch di d
hol d fast to the essenti al common premi ses about God's pri macy as Creator; cf. M. Pontet, L'Exgse
de Saint Augustin prdicateur (Lyons, 1944), chs. I I and I I I .
487
I n thi s chapter, Augusti ne summari zes what he takes to be the Chri sti an consensus on the
questi ons he has expl ored about the rel ati on of the i ntel l ectual and corporeal creati ons.
488
Cf. 1 Cor. 8:6.
formed, we can now percei ve them both i n the mi ghty mass of thi s worl d.
489
Another takes sti l l a further meani ng, that I n the begi nni ng God created heaven
and earth means, I n the very begi nni ng of creati ng and worki ng, God made that
unformed matter whi ch contai ned, undi fferenti ated, heaven and earth, from whi ch
both of them were formed, and both now stand out and are observabl e wi th al l the
thi ngs that are i n them.
CHAPTER XXI
30. Agai n, regardi ng the i nterpretati on of the fol l owi ng words, one man
sel ects for hi msel f, from al l the vari ous truths, the i nterpretati on that the earth
was i nvi si bl e and unformed and darkness was over the abyss means, That
corporeal enti ty whi ch God made was as yet the forml ess matter of physi cal thi ngs
wi thout order and wi thout l i ght. Another takes i t i n a di fferent sense, that But the
earth was i nvi si bl e and unformed, and darkness was over the abyss means, Thi s
total i ty cal l ed heaven and earth was as yet unformed and l i ghtl ess matter, out of
whi ch the corporeal heaven and the corporeal earth were to be made, wi th al l the
thi ngs i n them that are known to our physi cal senses. Another takes i t sti l l
di fferentl y and says that But the earth was i nvi si bl e and unformed, and darkness
was over the abyss means, Thi s total i ty cal l ed heaven and earth was as yet an
unformed and l i ghtl ess matter, from whi ch were to be made that i ntel l i gi bl e heaven
(whi ch i s al so cal l ed the heaven of heavens) and the earth (whi ch refers to the
whol e physi cal enti ty, under whi ch term may be i ncl uded thi s corporeal heaven)--
that i s, He made the i ntel l i gi bl e heaven from whi ch every i nvi si bl e and vi si bl e
creature woul d be created. He takes i t i n yet another sense who says that But the
earth was i nvi si bl e and unformed, and darkness was over the abyss means, The
Scri pture does not refer to that forml essness by the term heaven and earth; that
forml essness i tsel f al ready exi sted. Thi s i t cal l ed the i nvi si bl e earth and the
unformed and l i ghtl ess abyss, from whi ch--as i t had sai d before--God made the
heaven and the earth (namel y, the spi ri tual and the corporeal creati on). Sti l l
another says that But the earth was i nvi si bl e and forml ess, and darkness was over
the abyss means, There was al ready an unformed matter from whi ch, as the
Scri pture had al ready sai d, God made heaven and earth, namel y, the enti re
corporeal mass of the worl d, di vi ded i nto two very great parts, one superi or, the
other i nferi or, wi th al l those fami l i ar and known creatures that are i n them.
CHAPTER XXI I
31. Now suppose that someone tri ed to argue agai nst these l ast two opi ni ons
as fol l ows: I f you wi l l not admi t that thi s forml essness of matter appears to be
cal l ed by the term heaven and earth, then there was somethi ng that God had not
made out of whi ch he di d make heaven and earth. And Scri pture has not tol d us
that God made this matter, unl ess we understand that i t i s i mpl i ed i n the term
heaven and earth (or the term earth al one) when i t i s sai d, I n the begi nni ng God
created the heaven and earth. Thus, i n what fol l ows--the earth was i nvi si bl e and
unformed--even though i t pl eased Moses thus to refer to unformed matter, yet we
can onl y understand by i t that whi ch God hi msel f hath made, as i t stands wri tten i n
the previ ous verse, God made heaven and earth. Those who mai ntai n ei ther one or
the other of these two opi ni ons whi ch we have set out above wi l l answer to such
objecti ons: We do not deny at al l that thi s unformed matter was created by God,
489
Mole mundi.
from whom al l thi ngs are, and are very good--because we hol d that what i s created
and endowed wi th form i s a hi gher good; and we al so hol d that what i s made
capabl e of bei ng created and endowed wi th form, though i t i s a l esser good, i s sti l l a
good. But the Scri pture has not sai d speci fi cal l y that God made thi s forml essness--
any more than i t has sai d i t speci fi cal l y of many other thi ngs, such as the orders of
cherubi m and seraphi m and those others of whi ch the apostl e di sti nctl y speaks:
thrones, domi ni ons, pri nci pal i ti es, powers
490
--yet i t i s cl ear that God made al l of
these. I f i n the phrase He made heaven and earth al l thi ngs are i ncl uded, what are
we to say about the waters upon whi ch the Spi ri t of God moved? For i f they are
understood as i ncl uded i n the term earth, then how can unformed matter be meant
by the term earth when we see the waters so beauti ful l y formed? Or, i f i t be taken
thus, why, then, i s i t wri tten that out of the same forml essness the fi rmament was
made and cal l ed heaven, and yet i s i t not speci fi cal l y wri tten that the waters were
made? For these waters, whi ch we percei ve fl owi ng i n so beauti ful a fashi on, are not
forml ess and i nvi si bl e. But i f they recei ved that beauty at the ti me God sai d of
them, Let the waters whi ch are under the fi rmament be gathered together,
491
thus
i ndi cati ng that thei r gatheri ng together was the same thi ng as thei r recepti on of
form, what, then, i s to be sai d about the waters that are above the fi rmament?
Because i f they are unformed, they do not deserve to have a seat so honorabl e, and
yet i t i s not wri tten by what speci fi c word they were formed. I f, then, Genesi s i s
si l ent about anythi ng that God hath made, whi ch nei ther sound fai th nor unerri ng
understandi ng doubts that God hath made, l et not any sober teachi ng dare to say
that these waters were coeternal wi th God because we fi nd them menti oned i n the
book of Genesi s and do not fi nd i t menti oned when they were created. I f Truth
i nstructs us, why may we not i nterpret that unformed matter whi ch the Scri pture
cal l s the earth--i nvi si bl e and unformed--and the l i ghtl ess abyss as havi ng been
made by God from nothi ng; and thus understand that they are not coeternal wi th
hi m, al though the narrati ve fai l s to tel l us preci sel y when they were made?
CHAPTER XXI I I
32. I have heard and consi dered these theori es as wel l as my weak
apprehensi on al l ows, and I confess my weakness to Thee, O Lord, though al ready
thou knowest i t. Thus I see that two sorts of di sagreements may ari se when
anythi ng i s rel ated by si gns, even by trustworthy reporters. There i s one
di sagreement about the truth of the thi ngs i nvol ved; the other concerns the
meani ng of the one who reports them. I t i s one thi ng to i nqui re as to what i s true
about the formati on of the Creati on. I t i s another thi ng, however, to ask what that
excel l ent servant of thy fai th, Moses, woul d have wi shed for the reader and hearer
to understand from these words. As for the fi rst questi on, l et al l those depart from
me who i magi ne that Moses spoke thi ngs that are fal se. But l et me be uni ted wi th
them i n thee, O Lord, and del i ght mysel f i n thee wi th those who feed on thy truth i n
the bond of l ove. Let us approach together the words of thy book and make di l i gent
i nqui ry i n them for thy meani ng through the meani ng of thy servant by whose pen
thou hast gi ven them to us.
CHAPTER XXI V
33. But i n the mi dst of so many truths whi ch occur to the i nterpreters of
490
Cf. Col . 1:16.
491
Gen. 1:9.
these words (understood as they can be i n di fferent ways), whi ch one of us can
di scover that si ngl e i nterpretati on whi ch warrants our sayi ng confi dentl y that
Moses thought thus and that i n thi s narrati ve he wi shes this to be understood, as
confi dentl y as he woul d say that this i s true, whether Moses thought the one or the
other. For see, O my God, I am thy servant, and I have vowed i n thi s book an
offeri ng of confessi on to thee,
492
and I beseech thee that by thy mercy I may pay my
vow to thee. Now, see, coul d I assert that Moses meant nothi ng el se than this [i .e.,
my i nterpretati on] when he wrote, I n the begi nni ng God created the heaven and
the earth, as confi dentl y as I can assert that thou i n thy i mmutabl e Word hast
created al l thi ngs, i nvi si bl e and vi si bl e? No, I cannot do thi s because i t i s not as
cl ear to me that this was i n hi s mi nd when he wrote these thi ngs, as I see i t to be
certai n i n thy truth. For hi s thoughts mi ght be set upon the very begi nni ng of the
creati on when he sai d, I n the begi nni ng; and he mi ght have wi shed i t understood
that, i n thi s passage, heaven and earth refers to no formed and perfect enti ty,
whether spi ri tual or corporeal , but each of them onl y newl y begun and sti l l
forml ess. Whi chever of these possi bi l i ti es has been menti oned I can see that i t
mi ght have been sai d trul y. But whi ch of them he di d actual l y i ntend to express i n
these words I do not cl earl y see. However, whether i t was one of these or some other
meani ng whi ch I have not menti oned that thi s great man saw i n hi s mi nd when he
used these words I have no doubt whatever that he saw i t trul y and expressed i t
sui tabl y.
CHAPTER XXV
34. Let no man fret me now by sayi ng, Moses di d not mean what you say, but
what I say. Now i f he asks me, How do you know that Moses meant what you
deduce from hi s words?, I ought to respond cal ml y and repl y as I have al ready
done, or even more ful l y i f he happens to be untrai ned. But when he says, Moses
di d not mean what you say, but what I say, and then does not deny what ei ther of
us says but al l ows that both are true--then, O my God, l i fe of the poor, i n whose
breast there i s no contradi cti on, pour thy soothi ng bal m i nto my heart that I may
pati entl y bear wi th peopl e who tal k l i ke thi s! I t i s not because they are godl y men
and have seen i n the heart of thy servant what they say, but rather they are proud
men and have not consi dered Moses meani ng, but onl y l ove thei r own--not because
i t i s true but because i t i s thei r own. Otherwi se they coul d equal l y l ove another true
opi ni on, as I l ove what they say when what they speak i s true--not because i t i s
thei rs but because i t i s true, and therefore not thei rs but true. And i f they l ove an
opi ni on because i t i s true, i t becomes both thei rs and mi ne, si nce i t i s the common
property of al l l overs of the truth.
493
But I nei ther accept nor approve of i t when
they contend that Moses di d not mean what I say but what they say--and thi s
because, even i f i t were so, such rashness i s born not of knowl edge, but of
i mpudence. I t comes not from vi si on but from vani ty.
And therefore, O Lord, thy judgments shoul d be hel d i n awe, because thy
truth i s nei ther mi ne nor hi s nor anyone el ses; but i t bel ongs to al l of us whom thou
hast openl y cal l ed to have i t i n common; and thou hast warned us not to hol d on to
i t as our own speci al property, for i f we do we l ose i t. For i f anyone arrogates to
hi msel f what thou hast bestowed on al l to enjoy, and i f he desi res somethi ng for hi s
own that bel ongs to al l , he i s forced away from what i s common to al l to what i s,
492
Note how thi s rei terates a constant theme i n the Confessions as a whol e; a further i ndi cati on that
Bk. XI I i s an i ntegral part of the si ngl e whol e.
493
Cf. De libero arbitrio, I I , 8:20, 10:28.
i ndeed, hi s very own--that i s, from truth to fal sehood. For he who tel l s a l i e speaks
of hi s own thought.
494
35. Hear, O God, best judge of al l ! O Truth i tsel f, hear what I say to thi s
di sputant. Hear i t, because I say i t i n thy presence and before my brethren who use
the l aw ri ghtl y to the end of l ove. Hear and gi ve heed to what I shal l say to hi m, i f i t
pl eases thee.
For I woul d return thi s brotherl y and peaceful word to hi m: I f we both see
that what you say i s true, and i f we both say that what I say i s true, where i s i t, I
ask you, that we see thi s? Certai nl y, I do not see i t i n you, and you do not see i t i n
me, but both of us see i t i n the unchangeabl e truth i tsel f, whi ch i s above our
mi nds.
495
I f, then, we do not di sagree about the true l i ght of the Lord our God, why
do we di sagree about the thoughts of our nei ghbor, whi ch we cannot see as cl earl y
as the i mmutabl e Truth i s seen? I f Moses hi msel f had appeared to us and sai d,
Thi s i s what I meant, i t woul d not be i n order that we shoul d see i t but that we
shoul d bel i eve hi m. Let us not, then, go beyond what i s wri tten and be puffed up
for the one agai nst the other.
496
Let us, i nstead, l ove the Lord our God wi th al l our
heart, wi th al l our soul , and wi th al l our mi nd, and our nei ghbor as oursel f.
497
Unl ess we bel i eve that whatever Moses meant i n these books he meant to be
ordered by these two precepts of l ove, we shal l make God a l i ar, i f we judge of the
soul of hi s servant i n any other way than as he has taught us. See now, how fool i sh
i t i s, i n the face of so great an abundance of true opi ni ons whi ch can be el i ci ted from
these words, rashl y to affi rm that Moses especi al l y i ntended onl y one of these
i nterpretati ons; and then, wi th destructi ve contenti on, to vi ol ate l ove i tsel f, on
behal f of whi ch he had sai d al l the thi ngs we are endeavori ng to expl ai n!
CHAPTER XXVI
36. And yet, O my God, thou exal tati on of my humi l i ty and rest of my toi l ,
who hearest my confessi ons and forgi vest my si ns, si nce thou commandest me to
l ove my nei ghbor as mysel f, I cannot bel i eve that thou gavest thy most fai thful
servant Moses a l esser gi ft than I shoul d wi sh and desi re for mysel f from thee, i f I
had been born i n hi s ti me, and i f thou hadst pl aced me i n the posi ti on where, by the
use of my heart and my tongue, those books mi ght be produced whi ch so l ong after
were to profi t al l nati ons throughout the whol e worl d--from such a great pi nnacl e of
authori ty--and were to surmount the words of al l fal se and proud teachi ngs. I f I had
been Moses--and we al l come from the same mass,
498
and what i s man that thou art
mi ndful of hi m?
499
--i f I had been Moses at the ti me that he was, and i f I had been
ordered by thee to wri te the book of Genesi s, I woul d surel y have wi shed for such a
power of expressi on and such an art of arrangement to be gi ven me, that those who
cannot as yet understand how God createth woul d sti l l not reject my words as
surpassi ng thei r powers of understandi ng. And I woul d have wi shed that those who
are al ready abl e to do thi s woul d fi nd ful l y contai ned i n the l aconi c speech of thy
servant whatever truths they had arri ved at i n thei r own thought; and i f, i n the
l i ght of the Truth, some other man saw some further meani ng, that too woul d be
494
Cf. John 8:44.
495
The essenti al thesi s of the De Magistro; i t has i mportant i mpl i cati ons both for Augusti ne's
epi stemol ogy and for hi s theory of Chri sti an nurture; cf. the De catechizandis rudibus.
496
1 Cor. 4:6.
497
Cf. Deut. 6:5; Lev. 19:18; see al so Matt. 22:37, 39.
498
Cf. Rom. 9:21.
499
Cf. Ps. 8:4.
found congruent to my words.
CHAPTER XXVI I
37. For just as a spri ng dammed up i s more pl enti ful and affords a l arger
suppl y of water for more streams over wi der fi el ds than any si ngl e stream l ed off
from the same spri ng over a l ong course--so al so i s the narrati on of thy mi ni ster: i t
i s i ntended to benefi t many who are l i kel y to di scourse about i t and, wi th an
economy of l anguage, i t overfl ows i nto vari ous streams of cl ear truth, from whi ch
each one may draw out for hi msel f that parti cul ar truth whi ch he can about these
topi cs--thi s one that truth, that one another truth, by the broader survey of vari ous
i nterpretati ons. For some peopl e, when they read or hear these words,
500
thi nk that
God, l i ke some sort of man or l i ke some sort of huge body, by some new and sudden
deci si on, produced outsi de hi msel f and at a certai n di stance two great bodi es: one
above, the other bel ow, wi thi n whi ch al l created thi ngs were to be contai ned. And
when they hear, God sai d, Let such and such be done, and i t was done, they thi nk
of words begun and ended, soundi ng i n ti me and then passi ng away, fol l owed by the
comi ng i nto bei ng of what was commanded. They thi nk of other thi ngs of the same
sort whi ch thei r fami l i ari ty wi th the worl d suggests to them.
I n these peopl e, who are sti l l l i ttl e chi l dren and whose weakness i s borne up
by thi s humbl e l anguage as i f on a mothers breast, thei r fai th i s bui l t up heal thful l y
and they come to possess and to hol d as certai n the convi cti on that God made al l
enti ti es that thei r senses percei ve al l around them i n such marvel ous vari ety. And i f
one despi ses these words as i f they were tri vi al , and wi th proud weakness stretches
hi msel f beyond hi s fosteri ng cradl e, he wi l l , al as, fal l away wretchedl y. Have pi ty, O
Lord God, l est those who pass by trampl e on the unfl edged bi rd,
501
and send thy
angel who may restore i t to i ts nest, that i t may l i ve unti l i t can fl y.
CHAPTER XXVI I I
38. But others, to whom these words are no l onger a nest but, rather, a shady
thi cket, spy the frui ts conceal ed i n them and fl y around rejoi ci ng and search among
them and pl uck them wi th cheerful chi rpi ngs: For when they read or hear these
words, O God, they see that al l ti mes past and ti mes future are transcended by thy
eternal and stabl e permanence, and they see al so that there i s no temporal creature
that i s not of thy maki ng. By thy wi l l , si nce i t i s the same as thy bei ng, thou hast
created al l thi ngs, not by any mutati on of wi l l and not by any wi l l that previ ousl y
was nonexi stent--and not out of thysel f, but i n thy own l i keness, thou di dst make
from nothi ng the form of al l thi ngs. Thi s was an unl i keness whi ch was capabl e of
bei ng formed by thy l i keness through i ts rel ati on to thee, the One, as each thi ng has
been gi ven form appropri ate to i ts ki nd accordi ng to i ts preordai ned capaci ty. Thus,
al l thi ngs were made very good, whether they remai n around thee or whether,
removed i n ti me and pl ace by vari ous degrees, they cause or undergo the beauti ful
changes of natural process.
They see these thi ngs and they rejoi ce i n the l i ght of thy truth to whatever
degree they can.
39. Agai n, one of these men
502
di rects hi s attenti on to the verse, I n the
begi nni ng God made the heaven and the earth, and he behol ds Wi sdom as the true
500
"I n the begi nni ng God created," etc.
501
An echo of Job 39:13-16.
502
The thi cket deni zens menti oned above.
begi nni ng, because i t al so speaks to us. Another man di rects hi s attenti on to the
same words, and by begi nni ng he understands si mpl y the commencement of
creati on, and i nterprets i t thus: I n the begi nni ng he made, as i f i t were the same
thi ng as to say, At the fi rst moment, God made . . . And among those who i nterpret
I n the begi nni ng to mean that i n thy wi sdom thou hast created the heaven and
earth, one bel i eves that the matter out of whi ch heaven and earth were to be
created i s what i s referred to by the phrase heaven and earth. But another
bel i eves that these enti ti es were al ready formed and di sti nct. Sti l l another wi l l
understand i t to refer to one formed enti ty--a spi ri tual one, desi gnated by the term
heaven--and to another unformed enti ty of corporeal matter, desi gnated by the
term earth. But those who understand the phrase heaven and earth to mean the
yet unformed matter from whi ch the heaven and the earth were to be formed do not
take i t i n a si mpl e sense: one man regards i t as that from whi ch the i ntel l i gi bl e and
tangi bl e creati ons are both produced; and another onl y as that from whi ch the
tangi bl e, corporeal worl d i s produced, contai ni ng i n i ts vast bosom these vi si bl e and
observabl e enti ti es. Nor are they i n si mpl e accord who bel i eve that heaven and
earth refers to the created thi ngs al ready set i n order and arranged. One bel i eves
that i t refers to the i nvi si bl e and vi si bl e worl d; another, onl y to the vi si bl e worl d, i n
whi ch we admi re the l umi nous heavens and the darkened earth and al l the thi ngs
that they contai n.
CHAPTER XXI X
40. But he who understands I n the begi nni ng he made as i f i t meant, At
fi rst he made, can trul y i nterpret the phrase heaven and earth as referri ng onl y
to the matter of heaven and earth, namel y, of the pri or uni versal , whi ch i s the
i ntel l i gi bl e and corporeal creati on. For i f he woul d try to i nterpret the phrase as
appl yi ng to the uni verse al ready formed, i t then mi ght ri ghtl y be asked of hi m, I f
God fi rst made thi s, what then di d he do afterward? And, after the uni verse, he wi l l
fi nd nothi ng. But then he must, however unwi l l i ngl y, face the questi on, How i s thi s
the fi rst i f there i s nothi ng afterward? But when he sai d that God made matter fi rst
forml ess and then formed, he i s not bei ng absurd i f he i s abl e to di scern what
precedes by eterni ty, and what proceeds i n ti me; what comes from choi ce, and what
comes from ori gi n. I n eterni ty, God i s before al l thi ngs; i n the temporal process, the
fl ower i s before the frui t; i n the act of choi ce, the frui t i s before the fl ower; i n the
case of ori gi n, sound i s before the tune. Of these four rel ati ons, the fi rst and l ast
that I have referred to are understood wi th much di ffi cul ty. The second and thi rd
are very easi l y understood. For i t i s an uncommon and l ofty vi si on, O Lord, to
behol d thy eterni ty i mmutabl y maki ng mutabl e thi ngs, and thereby standi ng
al ways before them. Whose mi nd i s acute enough to be abl e, wi thout great l abor, to
di scover how the sound comes before the tune? For a tune i s a formed sound; and an
unformed thi ng may exi st, but a thi ng that does not exi st cannot be formed. I n the
same way, matter i s pri or to what i s made from i t. I t i s not pri or because i t makes
i ts product, for i t i s i tsel f made; and i ts pri ori ty i s not that of a ti me i nterval . For i n
ti me we do not fi rst utter forml ess sounds wi thout si ngi ng and then adapt or
fashi on them i nto the form of a song, as wood or si l ver from whi ch a chest or vessel
i s made. Such materi al s precede i n ti me the forms of the thi ngs whi ch are made
from them. But i n si ngi ng thi s i s not so. For when a song i s sung, i ts sound i s heard
at the same ti me. There i s not fi rst a forml ess sound, whi ch afterward i s formed i nto
a song; but just as soon as i t has sounded i t passes away, and you cannot fi nd
anythi ng of i t whi ch you coul d gather up and shape. Therefore, the song i s absorbed
i n i ts own sound and the sound of the song i s i ts matter. But the sound i s formed
i n order that i t may be a tune. Thi s i s why, as I was sayi ng, the matter of the sound
i s pri or to the form of the tune. I t i s not before i n the sense that i t has any power
of maki ng a sound or tune. Nor i s the sound i tsel f the composer of the tune; rather,
the sound i s sent forth from the body and i s ordered by the soul of the si nger, so that
from i t he may form a tune. Nor i s the sound fi rst i n ti me, for i t i s gi ven forth
together wi th the tune. Nor i s i t fi rst i n choi ce, because a sound i s no better than a
tune, si nce a tune i s not merel y a sound but a beauti ful sound. But i t i s fi rst i n
ori gi n, because the tune i s not formed i n order that i t may become a sound, but the
sound i s formed i n order that i t may become a tune.
From thi s exampl e, l et hi m who i s abl e to understand see that the matter of
thi ngs was fi rst made and was cal l ed heaven and earth because out of i t the
heaven and earth were made. Thi s pri mal forml essness was not made fi rst i n ti me,
because the form of thi ngs gi ves ri se to ti me; but now, i n ti me, i t i s i ntui ted together
wi th i ts form. And yet nothi ng can be rel ated of thi s unformed matter unl ess i t i s
regarded as i f i t were the fi rst i n the ti me seri es though the l ast i n val ue--because
thi ngs formed are certai nl y superi or to thi ngs unformed--and i t i s preceded by the
eterni ty of the Creator, so that from nothi ng there mi ght be made that from whi ch
somethi ng mi ght be made.
CHAPTER XXX
41. I n thi s di scord of true opi ni ons l et Truth i tsel f bri ng concord, and may our
God have mercy on us al l , that we may use the l aw ri ghtl y to the end of the
commandment whi ch i s pure l ove. Thus, i f anyone asks me whi ch of these opi ni ons
was the meani ng of thy servant Moses, these woul d not be my confessi ons di d I not
confess to thee that I do not know. Yet I do know that those opi ni ons are true--wi th
the excepti on of the carnal ones--about whi ch I have sai d what I thought was
proper. Yet those l i ttl e ones of good hope are not fri ghtened by these words of thy
Book, for they speak of hi gh thi ngs i n a l owl y way and of a few basi c thi ngs i n many
vari ed ways. But l et al l of us, whom I acknowl edge to see and speak the truth i n
these words, l ove one another and al so l ove thee, our God, O Fountai n of Truth--as
we wi l l i f we thi rst not after vani ty but for the Fountai n of Truth. I ndeed, l et us so
honor thi s servant of thi ne, the di spenser of thi s Scri pture, ful l of thy Spi ri t, so that
we wi l l bel i eve that when thou di dst reveal thysel f to hi m, and he wrote these
thi ngs down, he i ntended through them what wi l l chi efl y mi ni ster both for the l i ght
of truth and to the i ncrease of our frui tful ness.
CHAPTER XXXI
42. Thus, when one man says, Moses meant what I mean, and another says,
No, he meant what I do, I thi nk that I speak more fai thful l y when I say, Why
coul d he not have meant both i f both opi ni ons are true? And i f there shoul d be sti l l
a thi rd truth or a fourth one, and i f anyone shoul d seek a truth qui te di fferent i n
those words, why woul d i t not be ri ght to bel i eve that Moses saw al l these di fferent
truths, si nce through hi m the one God has tempered the Hol y Scri ptures to the
understandi ng of many di fferent peopl e, who shoul d see truths i n i t even i f they are
di fferent? Certai nl y--and I say thi s fearl essl y and from my heart--i f I were to wri te
anythi ng on such a supreme authori ty, I woul d prefer to wri te i t so that, whatever
of truth anyone mi ght apprehend from the matter under di scussi on, my words
shoul d re-echo i n the several mi nds rather than that they shoul d set down one true
opi ni on so cl earl y on one poi nt that I shoul d excl ude the rest, even though they
contai ned no fal sehood that offended me. Therefore, I am unwi l l i ng, O my God, to be
so headstrong as not to bel i eve that thi s man [Moses] has recei ved at l east thi s
much from thee. Surel y when he was wri ti ng these words, he saw ful l y and
understood al l the truth we have been abl e to fi nd i n them, and al so much besi des
that we have not been abl e to di scern, or are not yet abl e to fi nd out, though i t i s
there i n them sti l l to be found.
CHAPTER XXXI I
43. Fi nal l y, O Lord--who art God and not fl esh and bl ood--i f any man sees
anythi ng l ess, can anythi ng l i e hi d from thy good Spi ri t who shal l l ead me i nto
the l and of upri ghtness,
503
whi ch thou thysel f, through those words, wast reveal i ng
to future readers, even though he through whom they were spoken fi xed on onl y one
among the many i nterpretati ons that mi ght have been found? And i f thi s i s so, l et i t
be agreed that the meani ng he saw i s more exal ted than the others. But to us, O
Lord, ei ther poi nt out the same meani ng or any other true one, as i t pl eases thee.
Thus, whether thou makest known to us what thou madest known to that man of
thi ne, or some other meani ng by the agency of the same words, sti l l do thou feed us
and l et error not decei ve us. Behol d, O Lord, my God, how much we have wri tten
concerni ng these few words--how much, i ndeed! What strength of mi nd, what l ength
of ti me, woul d suffi ce for al l thy books to be i nterpreted i n thi s fashi on?
504
Al l ow me,
therefore, i n these concl udi ng words to confess more bri efl y to thee and sel ect some
one, true, certai n, and good sense that thou shal t i nspi re, al though many meani ngs
offer themsel ves and many i ndeed are possi bl e.
505
Thi s i s the fai th of my confessi on,
that i f I coul d say what thy servant meant, that i s truest and best, and for that I
must stri ve. Yet i f I do not succeed, may i t be that I shal l say at l east what thy
Truth wi shed to say to me through i ts words, just as i t sai d what i t wi shed to Moses.
503
Cf. Ps. 143:10.
504
Somethi ng of an understatement! I t i s i nteresti ng to note that Augusti ne devotes more ti me and
space to these openi ng verses of Genesi s than to any other passage i n the enti re Bi bl e--and he never
commented on the full text of Genesi s. Cf. Karl Barth's 274 pages devoted to Gen., chs. 1;2, i n the
Kirchliche Dogmatik, I I I , I , pp. 103-377.
505
Transi ti on, i n preparati on for the concl udi ng book (XI I I ), whi ch undertakes a constructi ve
resol uti on to the probl em of the anal ysi s of the mode of creati on made here i n Bk. XI I .
BOOK THI RTEEN
The mysteries and allegories of the days of creation. Augustine undertakes to
interpret Gen. 1:2-31 in a mystical and allegorical fashion so as to exhibit the
profundities of Gods power and wisdom and love. He is also interested in developing
his theories of hermeneutics on his favorite topic: creation. He finds the Trinity in the
account of creation and he ponders the work of the Spirit moving over the waters. I n
the firmament he finds the allegory of Holy Scripture and in the dry land and bitter
sea he finds the division between the people of God and the conspiracy of the
unfaithful. He develops the theme of mans being made in the image and likeness of
God. He brings his survey to a climax and his confessions to an end with a
meditation on the goodness of all creation and the promised rest and blessedness of
the eternal Sabbath, on which God, who is eternal rest, rested.
CHAPTER I
1. I cal l on thee, my God, my Mercy, who madest me and di dst not forget me,
though I was forgetful of thee. I cal l thee i nto my soul , whi ch thou di dst prepare for
thy recepti on by the desi re whi ch thou i nspi rest i n i t. Do not forsake me when I cal l
on thee, who di dst anti ci pate me before I cal l ed and who di dst repeatedl y urge wi th
mani fol d cal l i ng that I shoul d hear thee afar off and be turned and cal l upon thee,
who cal l est me. For thou, O Lord, hast bl otted out al l my evi l deserts, not puni shi ng
me for what my hands have done; and thou hast anti ci pated al l my good deserts so
as to recompense me for what thy hands have done--the hands whi ch made me.
Before I was, thou wast, and I was not anythi ng at al l that thou shoul dst grant me
bei ng. Yet, see how I exi st by reason of thy goodness, whi ch made provi si on for al l
that thou madest me to be and al l that thou madest me from. For thou di dst not
stand i n need of me, nor am I the ki nd of good enti ty whi ch coul d be a hel p to thee,
my Lord and my God. I t i s not that I may serve thee as i f thou wert fati gued i n
worki ng, or as i f thy power woul d be the l ess i f i t l acked my assi stance. Nor i s the
servi ce I pay thee l i ke the cul ti vati on of a fi el d, so that thou woul dst go untended i f I
di d not tend thee.
506
I nstead, i t i s that I may serve and worshi p thee to the end that
I may have my wel l -bei ng from thee, from whom comes my capaci ty for wel l -bei ng.
CHAPTER I I
2. I ndeed, i t i s from the ful l ness of thy goodness that thy creati on exi sts at al l :
to the end that the created good mi ght not fai l to be, even though i t can profi t thee
nothi ng, and i s nothi ng of thee nor equal to thee--si nce i ts created exi stence comes
from thee.
For what di d the heaven and earth, whi ch thou di dst make i n the begi nni ng,
ever deserve from thee? Let them decl are--these spi ri tual and corporeal enti ti es,
whi ch thou madest i n thy wi sdom--l et them decl are what they meri ted at thy hands,
so that the i nchoate and the forml ess, whether spi ri tual or corporeal , woul d deserve
to be hel d i n bei ng i n spi te of the fact that they tend toward di sorder and extreme
unl i keness to thee? An unformed spi ri tual enti ty i s more excel l ent than a formed
corporeal enti ty; and the corporeal , even when unformed, i s more excel l ent than i f i t
were si mpl y nothi ng at al l . Sti l l , these forml ess enti ti es are hel d i n thei r state of
506
Thi s i s a compound--and untransl atabl e--Lati n pun: neque ut sic te colam quasi terram, ut sis
uncultus si non te colam.
bei ng by thee, unti l they are recal l ed to thy uni ty and recei ve form and bei ng from
thee, the one soverei gn Good. What have they deserved of thee, si nce they woul d not
even be unformed enti ti es except from thee?
3. What has corporeal matter deserved of thee--even i n i ts i nvi si bl e and
unformed state--si nce i t woul d not exi st even i n thi s state i f thou hadst not made i t?
And, i f i t di d not exi st, i t coul d not meri t i ts exi stence from thee.
Or, what has that forml ess spi ri tual creati on deserved of thee--that i t shoul d
fl ow l i ghtl essl y l i ke the abyss--si nce i t i s so unl i ke thee and woul d not exi st at al l i f
i t had not been turned by the Word whi ch made i t that same Word, and, i l l umi ned
by that Word, had been made l i ght
507
al though not as thy equal but onl y as an
i mage of that Form [of Li ght] whi ch i s equal to thee? For, i n the case of a body, i ts
bei ng i s not the same thi ng as i ts bei ng beauti ful ; el se i t coul d not then be a
deformed body. Li kewi se, i n the case of a created spi ri t, l i vi ng i s not the same state
as l i vi ng wi sel y; el se i t coul d then be i mmutabl y wi se. But the true good of every
created thi ng i s al ways to cl eave fast to thee, l est, i n turni ng away from thee, i t l ose
the l i ght i t had recei ved i n bei ng turned by thee, and so rel apse i nto a l i fe l i ke that
of the dark abyss.
As for oursel ves, who are a spi ri tual creati on by vi rtue of our soul s, when we
turned away from thee, O Li ght, we were i n that former l i fe of darkness; and we toi l
ami d the shadows of our darkness unti l --through thy onl y Son--we become thy
ri ghteousness,
508
l i ke the mountai ns of God. For we, l i ke the great abyss,
509
have
been the objects of thy judgments.
CHAPTER I I I
4. Now what thou sai dst i n the begi nni ng of the creati on--Let there be l i ght:
and there was l i ght--I i nterpret, not unfi tl y, as referri ng to the spi ri tual creati on,
because i t al ready had a ki nd of l i fe whi ch thou coul dst i l l umi nate. But, si nce i t had
not meri ted from thee that i t shoul d be a l i fe capabl e of enl i ghtenment, so nei ther,
when i t al ready began to exi st, di d i t meri t from thee that i t shoul d be enl i ghtened.
For nei ther coul d i ts forml essness pl ease thee unti l i t became l i ght--and i t became
l i ght, not from the bare fact of exi sti ng, but by the act of turni ng i ts face to the l i ght
whi ch enl i ghtened i t, and by cl eavi ng to i t. Thus i t owed the fact that i t l i ved, and
l i ved happi l y, to nothi ng whatsoever but thy grace, si nce i t had been turned, by a
change for the better, toward that whi ch cannot be changed for ei ther better or
worse. Thou al one art, because thou al one art wi thout compl i cati on. For thee i t i s
not one thi ng to l i ve and another thi ng to l i ve i n bl essedness; for thou art thysel f thy
own bl essedness.
CHAPTER I V
5. What, therefore, woul d there have been l acki ng i n thy good, whi ch thou
thysel f art, even i f these thi ngs had never been made or had remai ned unformed?
Thou di dst not create them out of any l ack but out of the pl eni tude of thy goodness,
507
Cf. Enneads, I , 2:4: "What the soul now sees, i t certai nl y al ways possessed, but as l yi ng i n the
darkness. . . . To di spel the darkness and thus come to knowl edge of i ts i nner content, i t must thrust
toward the l i ght." Compare the noti ons of the initiative of such movements i n the soul i n Pl oti nus
and Augusti ne.
508
Cf. 2 Cor. 5:21.
509
Cf. Ps. 36:6 and see al so Augusti ne's Exposition on the Psalms, XXXVI , 8, where he says that "the
great preachers [recei vers of God's i l l umi nati on] are the mountai ns of God," for they fi rst catch the
l i ght on thei r summi ts. The abyss he cal l ed "the depth of si n" i nto whi ch the evi l and unfai thful fal l .
orderi ng them and turni ng them toward form,
510
but not because thy joy had to be
perfected by them. For thou art perfect, and thei r i mperfecti on i s di spl easi ng.
Therefore were they perfected by thee and became pl easi ng to thee--but not as i f
thou wert before that i mperfect and had to be perfected i n thei r perfecti on. For thy
good Spi ri t whi ch moved over the face of the waters
511
was not borne up by them as
i f he rested on them. For those i n whom thy good Spi ri t i s sai d to rest he actual l y
causes to rest i n hi msel f. But thy i ncorrupti bl e and i mmutabl e wi l l --i n i tsel f al l -
suffi ci ent for i tsel f--moved over that l i fe whi ch thou hadst made: i n whi ch l i vi ng i s
not at al l the same thi ng as l i vi ng happi l y, si nce that l i fe sti l l l i ves even as i t fl ows
i n i ts own darkness. But i t remai ns to be turned to hi m by whom i t was made and to
l i ve more and more l i ke the fountai n of l i fe, and i n hi s l i ght to see l i ght,
512
and to
be perfected, and enl i ghtened, and made bl essed.
CHAPTER V
6. See now,
513
how the Tri ni ty appears to me i n an eni gma. And thou art the
Tri ni ty, O my God, si nce thou, O Father--i n the begi nni ng of our wi sdom, that i s, i n
thy wi sdom born of thee, equal and coeternal wi th thee, that i s, thy Son--created the
heaven and the earth. Many thi ngs we have sai d about the heaven of heavens, and
about the earth i nvi si bl e and unformed, and about the shadowy abyss--speaki ng of
the ai ml ess fl ux of i ts bei ng spi ri tual l y deformed unl ess i t i s turned to hi m from
whom i t has i ts l i fe (such as i t i s) and by hi s Li ght comes to be a l i fe suffused wi th
beauty. Thus i t woul d be a [l ower] heaven of that [hi gher] heaven, whi ch afterward
was made between water and water.
514
And now I came to recogni ze, i n the name of God, the Father who made al l
these thi ngs, and i n the term the Begi nni ng to recogni ze the Son, through whom
he made al l these thi ngs; and si nce I di d bel i eve that my God was the Tri ni ty, I
sought sti l l further i n hi s hol y Word, and, behol d, Thy Spi ri t moved over the
waters. Thus, see the Tri ni ty, O my God: Father, Son, and Hol y Spi ri t, the Creator
of al l creati on!
CHAPTER VI
7. But why, O truth-speaki ng Li ght? To thee I l i ft up my heart--l et i t not
teach me vai n noti ons. Di sperse i ts shadows and tel l me, I beseech thee, by that
Love whi ch i s our mother; tel l me, I beseech thee, the reason why--after the
reference to heaven and to the i nvi si bl e and unformed earth, and darkness over the
abyss--thy Scri pture shoul d then at l ong l ast refer to thy Spi ri t? Was i t because i t
was appropri ate that he shoul d fi rst be shown to us as movi ng over; and thi s coul d
not have been sai d unl ess somethi ng had al ready been menti oned over whi ch thy
Spi ri t coul d be understood as movi ng? For he di d not move over the Father and
the Son, and he coul d not properl y be sai d to be movi ng over i f he were movi ng
over nothi ng. Thus, what i t was he was movi ng over had to be menti oned fi rst
510
Cf. Timaeus, 29D-30A, "He [the Demi urge-Creator] was good: and i n the good no jeal ousy . . . can
ever ari se. So, bei ng wi thout jeal ousy, he desi red that al l thi ngs shoul d come as near as possi bl e to
bei ng l i ke hi msel f. . . . He took over al l that i s vi si bl e . . . and brought i t from order to order, si nce he
judged that order was i n every way better" (F. M. Cornford, Plato's Cosmology, New York, 1937, p.
33). Cf. Enneads, V, 4:1, and Athanasi us, On the I ncarnation, I I I , 3.
511
Cf. Gen. 1:2.
512
Cf. Ps. 36:9.
513
I n thi s passage i n Genesi s on the creati on.
514
Cf. Gen. 1:6.
and he whom i t was not proper to menti on otherwi se than as movi ng over coul d
then be menti oned. But why was i t not fi tti ng that he shoul d have been i ntroduced
i n some other way than i n thi s context of movi ng over?
CHAPTER VI I
8. Now l et hi m who i s abl e fol l ow thy apostl e wi th hi s understandi ng when he
says, Thy l ove i s shed abroad i n our hearts by the Hol y Spi ri t, who i s gi ven to
us
515
and who teacheth us about spi ri tual gi fts
516
and showeth us a more excel l ent
way of l ove; and who bows hi s knee unto thee for us, that we may come to the
surpassi ng knowl edge of the l ove of Chri st.
517
Thus, from the begi nni ng, he who i s
above al l was movi ng over the waters.
To whom shal l I tel l thi s? How can I speak of the wei ght of concupi scence
whi ch drags us downward i nto the deep abyss, and of the l ove whi ch l i fts us up by
thy Spi ri t who moved over the waters? To whom shal l I tel l thi s? How shal l I tel l i t?
For concupi scence and l ove are not certai n pl aces i nto whi ch we are pl unged and
out of whi ch we are l i fted agai n. What coul d be more l i ke, and yet what more
unl i ke? They are both feel i ngs; they are both l oves. The uncl eanness of our own
spi ri t fl ows downward wi th the l ove of worl dl y care; and the sancti ty of thy Spi ri t
rai ses us upward by the l ove of rel ease from anxi ety--that we may l i ft our hearts to
thee where thy Spi ri t i s movi ng over the waters. Thus, we shal l have come to that
supreme rest where our soul s shal l have passed through the waters whi ch gi ve no
standi ng ground.
518
CHAPTER VI I I
9. The angel s fel l , and the soul of man fel l ; thus they i ndi cate to us the deep
darkness of the abyss, whi ch woul d have sti l l contai ned the whol e spi ri tual creati on
i f thou hadst not sai d, i n the begi nni ng, Let there be l i ght: and there was l i ght--
and i f every obedi ent mi nd i n thy heavenl y ci ty had not adhered to thee and had not
reposed i n thy Spi ri t, whi ch moved i mmutabl e over al l thi ngs mutabl e. Otherwi se,
even the heaven of heavens i tsel f woul d have been a dark shadow, i nstead of bei ng,
as i t i s now, l i ght i n the Lord.
519
For even i n the restl ess mi sery of the fal l en spi ri ts,
who exhi bi t thei r own darkness when they are stri pped of the garments of thy l i ght,
thou showest cl earl y how nobl e thou di dst make the rati onal creati on, for whose rest
and beati tude nothi ng suffi ces save thee thysel f. And certai nl y i t i s not i tsel f
suffi ci ent for i ts beati tude. For i t i s thou, O our God, who wi l t enl i ghten our
darkness; from thee shal l come our garments of l i ght; and then our darkness shal l
be as the noonday. Gi ve thysel f to me, O my God, restore thysel f to me! See, I l ove
thee; and i f i t be too l i ttl e, l et me l ove thee sti l l more strongl y. I cannot measure my
l ove so that I may come to know how much there i s sti l l l acki ng i n me before my l i fe
can run to thy embrace and not be turned away unti l i t i s hi dden i n the covert of
thy presence.
520
Onl y thi s I know, that my exi stence i s my woe except i n thee--not
onl y i n my outward l i fe, but al so wi thi n my i nmost sel f--and al l abundance I have
whi ch i s not my God i s poverty.
515
Rom. 5:5.
516
1 Cor. 12:1.
517
Cf. Eph. 3:14, 19.
518
Cf. the Ol d Lati n versi on of Ps. 123:5.
519
Cf. Eph. 5:8.
520
Cf. Ps. 31:20.
CHAPTER I X
10. But was nei ther the Father nor the Son movi ng over the waters? I f we
understand thi s as a moti on i n space, as a body moves, then not even the Hol y
Spi ri t moved. But i f we understand the changel ess superemi nence of the di vi ne
Bei ng above every changeabl e thi ng, then Father, Son, and Hol y Spi ri t moved over
the waters.
Why, then, i s thi s sai d of thy Spi ri t al one? Why i s i t sai d of hi m onl y--as i f he
had been i n a pl ace that i s not a pl ace--about whom al one i t i s wri tten, He i s thy
gi ft? I t i s i n thy gi ft that we rest. I t i s there that we enjoy thee. Our rest i s our
pl ace. Love l i fts us up toward that pl ace, and thy good Spi ri t l i fts our l owl i ness
from the gates of death.
521
Our peace rests i n the goodness of wi l l . The body tends
toward i ts own pl ace by i ts own gravi ty. A wei ght does not tend downward onl y, but
moves to i ts own pl ace. Fi re tends upward; a stone tends downward. They are
propel l ed by thei r own mass; they seek thei r own pl aces. Oi l poured under the water
ri ses above the water; water poured on oi l si nks under the oi l . They are moved by
thei r own mass; they seek thei r own pl aces. I f they are out of order, they are
restl ess; when thei r order i s restored, they are at rest. My wei ght i s my l ove. By i t I
am carri ed wherever I am carri ed. By thy gi ft,
522
we are enki ndl ed and are carri ed
upward. We burn i nwardl y and move forward. We ascend thy l adder whi ch i s i n our
heart, and we si ng a canti cl e of degrees
523
; we gl ow i nwardl y wi th thy fi re--wi th thy
good fi re
524
--and we go forward because we go up to the peace of Jerusal em
525
; for I
was gl ad when they sai d to me, Let us go i nto the house of the Lord.
526
There thy
good pl easure wi l l settl e us so that we wi l l desi re nothi ng more than to dwel l there
forever.
527
CHAPTER X
11. Happy woul d be that creature who, though i t was i n i tsel f other than
thou, sti l l had known no other state than thi s from the ti me i t was made, so that i t
was never wi thout thy gi ft whi ch moves over everythi ng mutabl e--who had been
borne up by the cal l i n whi ch thou sai dst, Let there be l i ght: and there was
l i ght.
528
For i n us there i s a di sti ncti on between the ti me when we were darkness
and the ti me when we were made l i ght. But we are not tol d what woul d have been
the case wi th that creature i f the l i ght had not been made. I t i s spoken of as though
there had been somethi ng of fl ux and darkness i n i t beforehand so that the cause by
whi ch i t was made to be otherwi se mi ght be evi dent. Thi s i s to say, by bei ng turned
to the unfai l i ng Li ght i t mi ght become l i ght. Let hi m who i s abl e understand thi s;
and l et hi m who i s not ask of thee. Why troubl e me, as i f I coul d enl i ghten every
man that comes i nto the worl d
529
?
521
Cf. Ps. 9:13.
522
The Hol y Spi ri t.
523
Canticum graduum. Psal ms 119 to 133 as numbered i n the Vul gate were regarded as a si ngl e
seri es of ascendi ng steps by whi ch the soul moves up toward heaven; cf. The Exposition on the
Psalms, loc. cit.
524
Tongues of fi re, symbol of the descent of the Hol y Spi ri t; cf. Acts 2:3, 4.
525
Cf. Ps. 122:6.
526
Ps. 122:1.
527
Cf. Ps. 23:6.
528
Gen. 1:3.
529
John 1:9.
CHAPTER XI
12. Who can understand the omni potent Tri ni ty? And yet who does not speak
about i t, i f i ndeed i t i s of i t that he speaks? Rare i s the soul who, when he speaks of
i t, al so knows of what he speaks. And men contend and stri ve, but no man sees the
vi si on of i t wi thout peace.
I coul d wi sh that men woul d consi der three thi ngs whi ch are wi thi n
themsel ves. These three thi ngs are qui te di fferent from the Tri ni ty, but I menti on
them i n order that men may exerci se thei r mi nds and test themsel ves and come to
real i ze how di fferent from i t they are.
530
The three thi ngs I speak of are: to be, to know, and to wi l l . For I am, and I
know, and I wi l l . I am a knowi ng and a wi l l i ng bei ng; I know that I am and that I
wi l l ; and I wi l l to be and to know. I n these three functi ons, therefore, l et hi m who
can see how i ntegral a l i fe i s; for there i s one l i fe, one mi nd, one essence. Fi nal l y, the
di sti ncti on does not separate the thi ngs, and yet i t i s a di sti ncti on. Surel y a man has
thi s di sti ncti on before hi s mi nd; l et hi m l ook i nto hi msel f and see, and tel l me. But
when he di scovers and can say anythi ng about any one of these, l et hi m not thi nk
that he has thereby di scovered what i s i mmutabl e above them al l , whi ch is
i mmutabl y and knows i mmutabl y and wills i mmutabl y. But whether there i s a
Tri ni ty there because these three functi ons exi st i n the one God, or whether al l
three are i n each Person so that they are each threefol d, or whether both these
noti ons are true and, i n some mysteri ous manner, the I nfi ni te i s i n i tsel f i ts own
Sel fsame object--at once one and many, so that by i tsel f i t i s and knows i tsel f and
suffi ces to i tsel f wi thout change, so that the Sel fsame i s the abundant magni tude of
i ts Uni ty--who can readi l y concei ve? Who can i n any fashi on express i t pl ai nl y? Who
can i n any way rashl y make a pronouncement about i t?
CHAPTER XI I
13. Go forward i n your confessi on, O my fai th; say to the Lord your God,
Hol y, hol y, hol y, O Lord my God, i n thy name we have been bapti zed, i n the name
of the Father, Son, and Hol y Spi ri t. I n thy name we bapti ze, i n the name of the
Father, the Son, and the Hol y Spi ri t. For among us al so God i n hi s Chri st made
heaven and earth, namel y, the spi ri tual and carnal members of hi s Church. And
true i t i s that before i t recei ved the form of doctri ne, our earth
531
was i nvi si bl e
and unformed, and we were covered wi th the darkness of our i gnorance; for thou
dost correct man for hi s i ni qui ty,
532
and thy judgments are a great abyss.
533
But
because thy Spi ri t was movi ng over these waters, thy mercy di d not forsake our
wretchedness, and thou sai dst, Let there be l i ght; repent, for the ki ngdom of
heaven i s at hand.
534
Repent, and l et there be l i ght. Because our soul was troubl ed
wi thi n us, we remembered thee, O Lord, from the l and of Jordan, and from the
mountai n
535
--and as we became di spl eased wi th our darkness we turned to thee,
and there was l i ght. And behol d, we were heretofore i n darkness, but now we are
l i ght i n the Lord.
536
530
Cf. the detai l ed anal ogy from sel f to Tri ni ty i n De Trinitate, I X-XI I .
531
I .e., the Church.
532
Cf. Ps. 39:11.
533
Ps. 36:6.
534
Gen. 1:3 and Matt. 4:17; 3:2.
535
Cf. Ps. 42:5, 6.
536
Cf. Eph. 5:8.
CHAPTER XI I I
14. But even so, we sti l l l i ve by fai th and not by si ght, for we are saved by
hope; but hope that i s seen i s not hope. Thus far deep cal l s unto deep, but now i n
the noi se of thy waterfal l s.
537
And thus far he who sai d, I coul d not speak to you
as i f you were spi ri tual ones, but onl y as i f you were carnal
538
--thus far even he
does not count hi msel f to have apprehended, but forgetti ng the thi ngs that are
behi nd and reachi ng forth to the thi ngs that are before, he presses on to those
thi ngs that are ahead,
539
and he groans under hi s burden and hi s soul thi rsts after
the l i vi ng God as the stag pants for the water brooks,
540
and says, When shal l I
come?
541
--desi ri ng to be further cl othed by hi s house whi ch i s from heaven.
542
And he cal l ed to thi s l ower deep, sayi ng, Be not conformed to thi s worl d, but be
transformed by the renewi ng of your mi nd.
543
And be not chi l dren i n
understandi ng, al though i n mal i ce be chi l dren, i n order that i n understandi ng you
may become perfect.
544
O fool i sh Gal ati ans, who has bewi tched you?
545
But thi s i s
not now onl y i n hi s own voi ce but i n thy voi ce, who sent thy Spi ri t from above
through Hi m who both ascended up on hi gh
546
and opened up the fl oodgates of hi s
gi fts, that the force of hi s streams mi ght make gl ad the ci ty of God.
547
For that ci ty and for hi m si ghs the Bri degrooms fri end,
548
who has now the
fi rst frui ts of the Spi ri t l ai d up wi th hi m, but who i s sti l l groani ng wi thi n hi msel f
and wai ti ng for adopti on, that i s, the redempti on of hi s body.
549
To Hi m he si ghs, for
he i s a member of the Bri de
550
; for hi m he i s jeal ous, not for hi msel f, but because not
i n hi s own voi ce but i n the voi ce of thy waterfal l s he cal l s on that other deep, of
whi ch he i s jeal ous and i n fear; for he fears l est, as the serpent seduced Eve by hi s
subtl ety, hi s mi nd shoul d be corrupted from the puri ty whi ch i s i n our Bri degroom,
thy onl y Son. What a l i ght of beauty that wi l l be when we shal l see hi m as he
i s
551
!--and when these tears shal l pass away whi ch have been my meat day and
ni ght, whi l e they conti nual l y say unto me, Where i s your God?
552
CHAPTER XI V
15. And I mysel f say: O my God, where art thou? See now, where art thou?
I n thee I take my breath for a l i ttl e whi l e, when I pour out my soul beyond mysel f i n
the voi ce of joy and prai se, i n the voi ce of hi m that keeps hol yday.
553
And sti l l i t i s
537
Ps. 42:7.
538
Cf. 1 Cor. 3:1.
539
Cf. Phi l . 3:13.
540
Cf. Ps. 42:1.
541
Ps. 42:2.
542
Cf. 2 Cor. 5:1-4.
543
Rom. 12:2.
544
1 Cor. 14:20.
545
Gal . 3:1.
546
Eph. 4:8, 9.
547
Cf. Ps. 46:4.
548
Cf. John 3:29.
549
Cf. Rom. 8:23.
550
I .e., the Body of Chri st.
551
1 John 3:2.
552
Ps. 42:3.
553
Cf. Ps. 42:4.
cast down because i t rel apses and becomes an abyss, or rather i t feel s that i t sti l l i s
an abyss. My fai th speaks to my soul --the fai th that thou dost ki ndl e to l i ght my
path i n the ni ght: Why are you cast down, O my soul , and why are you di squi eted
i n me? Hope i n God.
554
For hi s word i s a l amp to your feet.
555
Hope and persevere
unti l the ni ght passes--that mother of the wi cked; unti l the Lords wrath subsi des--
that wrath whose chi l dren once we were, of whom we were beforehand i n darkness,
whose resi due we sti l l bear about us i n our bodi es, dead because of si n.
556
Hope and
endure unti l the day breaks and the shadows fl ee away.
557
Hope i n the Lord: i n the
morni ng I shal l stand i n hi s presence and keep watch
558
; I shal l forever gi ve prai se
to hi m. I n the morni ng I shal l stand and shal l see my God, who i s the heal th of my
countenance,
559
who al so wi l l qui cken our mortal bodi es by the Spi ri t that dwel l s i n
us,
560
because i n mercy he was movi ng over our l i ghtl ess and restl ess i nner deep.
From thi s we have recei ved an earnest, even now i n thi s pi l gri mage, that we are
now i n the l i ght, si nce al ready we are saved by hope and are chi l dren of the l i ght
and chi l dren of the day--not chi l dren of the ni ght, nor of the darkness,
561
whi ch we
have been hi therto. Between those chi l dren of the ni ght and oursel ves, i n thi s sti l l
uncertai n state of human knowl edge, onl y thou canst ri ghtl y di sti ngui sh--thou who
dost test the heart and who dost cal l the l i ght day, and the darkness ni ght.
562
For
who can see us cl earl y but thee? What do we have that we have not recei ved from
thee, who madest from the same l ump some vessel s to nobl e, and others to i gnobl e,
use
563
?
CHAPTER XV
16. Now who but thee, our God, di dst make for us that fi rmament of the
authori ty of thy di vi ne Scri pture to be over us? For the heaven shal l be fol ded up
l i ke a scrol l
564
; but now i t i s stretched over us l i ke a ski n. Thy di vi ne Scri pture i s of
more subl i me authori ty now that those mortal men through whom thou di dst
di spense i t to us have departed thi s l i fe. And thou knowest, O Lord, thou knowest
how thou di dst cl othe men wi th ski ns when they became mortal because of si n.
565
I n
somethi ng of the same way, thou hast stretched out the fi rmament of thy Book as a
ski n--that i s to say, thou hast spread thy harmoni ous words over us through the
mi ni stry of mortal men. For by thei r very death that sol i d fi rmament of authori ty i n
thy sayi ngs, spoken forth by them, stretches hi gh over al l that now dri ft under i t;
whereas whi l e they l i ved on earth thei r authori ty was not so wi del y extended. Then
thou hadst not yet spread out the heaven l i ke a ski n; thou hadst not yet spread
abroad everywhere the fame of thei r death.
17. Let us see, O Lord, the heavens, the work of thy fi ngers,
566
and cl ear
554
Ps. 43:5.
555
Cf. Ps. 119:105.
556
Cf. Rom. 8:10.
557
Cf. S. of Sol . 2:17.
558
Cf. Ps. 5:3.
559
Ps. 43:5.
560
Cf. Rom. 8:11.
561
1 Thess. 5:5.
562
Cf. Gen. 1:5.
563
Cf. Rom. 9:21.
564
I sa. 34:4.
565
Cf. Gen. 3:21.
566
Ps. 8:3.
away from our eyes the fog wi th whi ch thou hast covered them. I n them
567
i s that
testi mony of thi ne whi ch gi ves wi sdom even to the l i ttl e ones. O my God, out of the
mouth of babes and suckl i ngs, perfect thy prai se.
568
For we know no other books
that so destroy mans pri de, that so break down the adversary and the sel f-defender
who resi sts thy reconci l i ati on by an effort to justi fy hi s own si ns. I do not know, O
Lord, I do not know any other such pure words that so persuade me to confessi on
and make my neck submi ssi ve to thy yoke, and i nvi te me to serve thee for nothi ng
el se than thy own sake. Let me understand these thi ngs, O good Father. Grant thi s
to me, si nce I am pl aced under them; for thou hast establ i shed these thi ngs for
those pl aced under them.
18. There are other waters that are above thi s fi rmament, and I bel i eve that
they are i mmortal and removed from earthl y corrupti on. Let them prai se thy name--
thi s super-cel esti al soci ety, thy angel s, who have no need to l ook up at thi s
fi rmament or to gai n a knowl edge of thy Word by readi ng i t--l et them prai se thee.
For they al ways behol d thy face and read therei n, wi thout any syl l abl es i n ti me,
what thy eternal wi l l i ntends. They read, they choose, they l ove.
569
They are al ways
readi ng, and what they read never passes away. For by choosi ng and by l ovi ng they
read the very i mmutabi l i ty of thy counsel . Thei r book i s never cl osed, nor i s the
scrol l fol ded up, because thou thysel f art thi s to them, and art thi s to them
eternal l y; because thou di dst range them above thi s fi rmament whi ch thou madest
fi rm over the i nfi rmi ti es of the peopl e bel ow the heavens, where they mi ght l ook up
and l earn thy mercy, whi ch procl ai ms i n ti me thee who madest al l ti mes. For thy
mercy, O Lord, i s i n the heavens, and thy fai thful ness reaches to the cl ouds.
570
The
cl ouds pass away, but the heavens remai n. The preachers of thy Word pass away
from thi s l i fe i nto another; but thy Scri pture i s spread abroad over the peopl e, even
to the end of the worl d. I ndeed, both heaven and earth shal l pass away, but thy
words shal l never pass away.
571
The scrol l shal l be rol l ed together, and the grass
over whi ch i t was spread shal l , wi th al l i ts goodl i ness, pass away; but thy Word
remai ns forever
572
--thy Word whi ch now appears to us i n the dark i mage of the
cl ouds and through the gl ass of heaven, and not as i t real l y i s. And even i f we are
the wel l -bel oved of thy Son, i t has not yet appeared what we shal l be.
573
He hath
seen us through the entangl ement
574
of our fl esh, and he i s fai r-speaki ng, and he
hath enki ndl ed us, and we run after hi s fragrance.
575
But when he shal l appear,
then we shal l be l i ke hi m, for we shal l see hi m as he i s.
576
As he i s, O Lord, we
shal l see hi m--al though that ti me i s not yet.
CHAPTER XVI
19. For just as thou art the utterl y Real , thou al one dost ful l y know, si nce
thou art i mmutabl y, and thou knowest i mmutabl y, and thou wi l l est i mmutabl y.
567
"The heavens," i .e. the Scri ptures.
568
Cf. Ps. 8:2.
569
Legunt, eligunt, diligunt.
570
Ps. 36:5.
571
Cf. Matt. 24:35.
572
Cf. I sa. 40:6-8.
573
Cf. 1 John 3:2.
574
Retia, l i teral l y "a net"; such as those used by retiarii, the gl adi ators who used nets to entangl e
thei r opponents.
575
Cf. S. of Sol . 1:3, 4.
576
1 John 3:2.
And thy Essence knows and wi l l s i mmutabl y. Thy Knowl edge i s and wi l l s
i mmutabl y. Thy Wi l l i s and knows i mmutabl y. And i t does not seem ri ght to thee
that the i mmutabl e Li ght shoul d be known by the enl i ghtened but mutabl e creature
i n the same way as i t knows i tsel f. Therefore, to thee my soul i s as a l and where no
water i s
577
; for, just as i t cannot enl i ghten i tsel f by i tsel f, so i t cannot sati sfy i tsel f
by i tsel f. Thus the fountai n of l i fe i s wi th thee, and i n thy l i ght shal l we see
l i ght.
578
CHAPTER XVI I
20. Who has gathered the embi ttered ones
579
i nto a si ngl e soci ety? For they
al l have the same end, whi ch i s temporal and earthl y happi ness. Thi s i s thei r
moti ve for doi ng everythi ng, al though they may fl uctuate wi thi n an i nnumerabl e
di versi ty of concerns. Who but thee, O Lord, gathered them together, thou who
sai dst, Let the waters be gathered together i nto one pl ace and l et the dry l and
appear--athi rst for thee? For the sea al so i s thi ne, and thou madest i t, and thy
hands formed the dry l and.
580
For i t i s not the bi tterness of mens wi l l s but the
gatheri ng together of the waters whi ch i s cal l ed the sea; yet thou dost curb the
wi cked l usts of mens soul s and fi x thei r bounds: how far they are al l owed to
advance, and where thei r waves wi l l be broken agai nst each other--and thus thou
makest i t a sea, by the provi dence of thy governance of al l thi ngs.
21. But as for the soul s that thi rst after thee and who appear before thee--
separated from the soci ety of the [bi tter] sea by reason of thei r di fferent ends--
thou waterest them by a secret and sweet spri ng, so that the earth may bri ng
forth her frui t and--thou, O Lord, commandi ng i t--our soul s may bud forth i n works
of mercy after thei r ki nd.
581
Thus we shal l l ove our nei ghbor i n mi ni steri ng to hi s
bodi l y needs, for i n thi s way the soul has seed i n i tsel f after i ts ki nd when i n our
own i nfi rmi ty our compassi on reaches out to the rel i ef of the needy, hel pi ng them
even as we woul d desi re to be hel ped oursel ves i f we were i n si mi l ar need. Thus we
hel p, not onl y i n easy probl ems (as i s si gni fi ed by the herb yi el di ng i ts seed) but
al so i n the offeri ng of our best strength i n affordi ng them the ai d of protecti on (such
as the tree beari ng i ts frui t). Thi s i s to say, we seek to rescue hi m who i s sufferi ng
i njury from the hands of the powerful --furni shi ng hi m wi th the shel teri ng protecti on
whi ch comes from the strong arm of a ri ghteous judgment.
582
CHAPTER XVI I I
22. Thus, O Lord, thus I beseech thee: l et i t happen as thou hast prepared i t,
as thou gi vest joy and the capaci ty for joy. Let truth spri ng up out of the earth, and
l et ri ghteousness l ook down from heaven,
583
and l et there be l i ghts i n the
577
Cf. Ps. 63:1.
578
Ps. 36:9.
579
Amaricantes, a fi gure whi ch Augusti ne devel ops both i n the Exposition of the Psalms and The
City of God. Commenti ng on Ps. 65, Augusti ne says: "For the sea, by a fi gure, i s used to i ndi cate thi s
worl d, wi th i ts bi tter sal ti ness and troubl ed storms, where men wi th perverse and depraved
appeti tes have become l i ke fi shes devouri ng one another." I n The City of God, he speaks of the
bi tterness of l i fe i n the civitas terrena; cf. XI X, 5.
580
Cf. Ps. 95:5.
581
Cf. Gen. 1:10f.
582
I n thi s way, Augusti ne sees an anal ogy between the good earth beari ng i ts frui ts and the ethi cal
"frui t-beari ng" of the Chri sti an l ove of nei ghbor.
583
Cf. Ps. 85:11.
fi rmament.
584
Let us break our bread wi th the hungry, l et us bri ng the shel terl ess poor to
our house; l et us cl othe the naked, and never despi se those of our own fl esh.
585
See
from the frui ts whi ch spri ng forth from the earth how good i t i s. Thus l et our
temporal l i ght break forth, and l et us from even thi s l ower l evel of frui tful acti on
come to the joy of contempl ati on and hol d on hi gh the Word of Li fe. And l et us at
l ength appear l i ke l i ghts i n the worl d,
586
cl eavi ng to the fi rmament of thy
Scri pture.
For i n i t thou makest i t pl ai n to us how we may di sti ngui sh between thi ngs
i ntel l i gi bl e and thi ngs tangi bl e, as i f between the day and the ni ght--and to
di sti ngui sh between soul s who gi ve themsel ves to thi ngs of the mi nd and others
absorbed i n thi ngs of sense. Thus i t i s that now thou art not al one i n the secret of
thy judgment as thou wast before the fi rmament was made, and before thou di dst
di vi de between the l i ght and the darkness. But now al so thy spi ri tual chi l dren,
pl aced and ranked i n thi s same fi rmament--thy grace bei ng thus mani fest
throughout the worl d--may shed l i ght upon the earth, and may di vi de between the
day and ni ght, and may be for the si gns of the ti mes
587
; because ol d thi ngs have
passed away, and, l o, al l thi ngs are become new
588
; and because our sal vati on i s
nearer than when we bel i eved; and because the ni ght i s far spent and the day i s at
hand
589
; and because thou crownest the year wi th bl essi ng,
590
sendi ng the
l aborers i nto thy harvest, i n whi ch others have l abored i n the sowi ng and sendi ng
l aborers al so to make new sowi ngs whose harvest shal l not be unti l the end of ti me.
Thus thou dost grant the prayers of hi m who seeks, and thou dost bl ess the years of
the ri ghteous man. But thou art al ways the Sel fsame, and i n thy years whi ch fai l
not thou preparest a granary for our transi ent years. For by an eternal desi gn thou
spreadest the heavenl y bl essi ngs on the earth i n thei r proper seasons.
23. For to one there i s gi ven by thy Spi ri t the word of wi sdom
591
(whi ch
resembl es the greater l i ght--whi ch i s for those whose del i ght i s i n the cl ear l i ght of
truth--as the l i ght whi ch i s gi ven for the rul i ng of the day
592
). But to another the
word of knowl edge i s gi ven by the same Spi ri t (as i t were, the l esser l i ght); to
another, fai th; to another, the gi ft of heal i ng; to another, the power of worki ng
mi racl es; to another, the gi ft of prophecy; to another, the di scerni ng of spi ri ts; to
another, other ki nds of tongues--and al l these gi fts may be compared to the stars.
For i n them al l the one and sel fsame Spi ri t i s at work, di vi di ng to every man hi s
own porti on, as He wi l l s, and maki ng stars to appear i n thei r bri ght spl endor for the
profi t of soul s. But the word of knowl edge, scientia, i n whi ch i s contai ned al l the
mysteri es
593
whi ch change i n thei r seasons l i ke the moon; and al l the other
promi ses of gi fts, whi ch when counted are l i ke the stars--al l of these fal l short of
584
Cf. Gen. 1:14.
585
Cf. I sa. 58:7.
586
Cf. Phi l . 2:15.
587
Cf. Gen. 1:19.
588
Cf. 2 Cor. 5:17.
589
Cf. Rom. 13:11, 12.
590
Ps. 65:11.
591
For thi s whol e passage, cf. the paral l el devel oped here wi th 1 Cor. 12:7-11.
592
I n principio diei, an obvi ous echo to the Vul gate ut praesset diei of Gen. 1:16. Cf. Gi bb and
Montgomery, p. 424 (see Bi bl .), for a comment on in principio diei and in principio noctis, bel ow.
593
Sacramenta; but cf. Augusti ne's di scussi on of sacramenta i n the Ol d Testament i n the Exposition
of the Psalms, LXXI V, 2: "The sacraments of the Ol d Testament promi sed a Savi our; the sacraments
of the New Testament gi ve sal vati on."
that spl endor of Wi sdom i n whi ch the day rejoi ces and are onl y for the rul i ng of the
ni ght. Yet they are necessary for those to whom thy most prudent servant coul d not
speak as to the spi ri tual l y mature, but onl y as i f to carnal men--even though he
coul d speak wi sdom among the perfect.
594
Sti l l the natural man--as a babe i n
Chri st, and a dri nker of mi l k, unti l he i s strong enough for sol i d meat, and hi s eye i s
abl e to l ook i nto the sun--do not l eave hi m i n a l i ghtl ess ni ght. I nstead, l et hi m be
sati sfi ed wi th the l i ght of the moon and the stars. I n thy book thou dost di scuss
these thi ngs wi th us wi sel y, our God--i n thy book, whi ch i s thy fi rmament--i n
order that we may be abl e to vi ew al l thi ngs i n admi ri ng contempl ati on, al though
thus far we must do so through si gns and seasons and i n days and years.
CHAPTER XI X
24. But, fi rst, wash yoursel ves and make you cl ean; put away i ni qui ty from
your soul s and from before my eyes
595
--so that the dry l and may appear. Learn
to do wel l , judge the fatherl ess, pl ead for the wi dow,
596
that the earth may bri ng
forth the green herb for food and frui t-beari ng trees. And come, l et us reason
together, sai th the Lord
597
--that there may be l i ghts i n the fi rmament of heaven
and that they may shi ne upon the earth.
There was that ri ch man who asked of the good Teacher what he shoul d do to
attai n eternal l i fe. Let the good Teacher (whom the ri ch man thought a man and
nothi ng more) gi ve hi m an answer--he i s good for he i s God. Let hi m answer hi m
that, i f he woul d enter i nto l i fe, he must keep the commandments: l et hi m put away
from hi msel f the bi tterness of mal i ce and wi ckedness; l et hi m not ki l l , nor commi t
adul tery, nor steal , nor bear fal se wi tness
598
--that the dry l and may appear and
bri ng forth the honori ng of fathers and mothers and the l ove of nei ghbor. Al l
these, he repl i ed, I have kept. Where do so many thorns come from, i f the earth i s
real l y frui tful ? uproot the bri er patch of avari ce; sel l what you have, and be fi l l ed
wi th frui t by gi vi ng to the poor, and you shal l have treasure i n heaven; and fol l ow
the Lord i f you woul d be perfect and joi ned wi th those i n whose mi dst he speaketh
wi sdom--who know how to gi ve ri ghtl y to the day and to the ni ght--and you wi l l al so
understand, so that for you al so there may be l i ghts i n the fi rmament of heaven--
whi ch wi l l not be there, however, unl ess your heart i s there al so. And your heart
wi l l not be there unl ess your treasure i s there,
599
as you have heard from the good
Teacher. But the barren earth
600
was gri eved, and the bri ers choked the word.
601
25. But you, O el ect peopl e, set i n the fi rmament of the worl d,
602
who have
forsaken al l that you may fol l ow the Lord: fol l ow hi m now, and confound the
mi ghty! Fol l ow hi m, O beauti ful feet,
603
and shi ne i n the fi rmament, that the
heavens may decl are hi s gl ory, di vi di ng the l i ght of the perfect ones
604
--though not
594
Cf. 1 Cor. 3:1; 2:6.
595
I sa. 1:16.
596
I sa. 1:17.
597
I sa. 1:18.
598
Cf. for thi s syntaxi s, Matt. 19:16-22 and Ex. 20:13-16.
599
Cf. Matt. 6:21.
600
I .e., the ri ch young rul er.
601
Cf. Matt. 13:7.
602
Cf. Matt. 97 Readi ng here, wi th Knl l and the Sessorianus, in firmamento mundi.
603
Cf. I sa. 52:7.
604
Perfectorum. I s thi s a consci ous use, i n a Chri sti an context, of the di sti ncti on he had known so
wel l among the Mani cheans--between the perfecti and the auditores?
yet so perfect as the angel s--from the darkness of the l i ttl e ones--who are
neverthel ess not utterl y despi sed. Shi ne over al l the earth, and l et the day be
l i ghted by the sun, utter the Word of wi sdom to the day (day unto day utters
speech
605
) and l et the ni ght, l i ghted by the moon, di spl ay the Word of knowl edge to
the ni ght. The moon and the stars gi ve l i ght for the ni ght; the ni ght does not put
them out, and they i l l umi ne i n i ts proper mode. For l o, i t i s as i f God were sayi ng,
Let there be l i ghts i n the fi rmament of the heaven: and suddenl y there came a
sound from heaven, as i f i t were a rushi ng mi ghty wi nd, and there appeared cl oven
tongues of fi re, and they sat on each of them.
606
And then they were made to be
l i ghts i n the fi rmament of heaven, havi ng the Word of l i fe. Run to and fro
everywhere, you hol y fi res, you l ovel y fi res, for you are the l i ght of the worl d and
you are not to be hi d under a peck measure.
607
He to whom you cl eave i s rai sed on
hi gh, and he hath rai sed you on hi gh. Run to and fro; make yoursel ves known
among al l the nati ons!
CHAPTER XX
26. Al so l et the sea concei ve and bri ng forth your works, and l et the waters
bear the movi ng creatures that have l i fe.
608
For by separati ng the preci ous from the
vi l e you are made the mouth of God
609
by whom he sai d, Let the waters bri ng
forth. Thi s does not refer to the l i vi ng creatures whi ch the earth bri ngs forth, but to
the creepi ng creatures that have l i fe and the fowl s that fl y over the earth. For, by
the mi ni stry of thy hol y ones, thy mysteri es have made thei r way ami d the buffeti ng
bi l l ows of the worl d, to i nstruct the nati ons i n thy name, i n thy Bapti sm. And
among these thi ngs many great and marvel ous works have been wrought, whi ch are
anal ogous to the huge whal es. The words of thy messengers have gone fl yi ng over
the earth, hi gh i n the fi rmament of thy Book whi ch i s spread over them as the
authori ty beneath whi ch they are to fl y wheresoever they go. For there i s no speech
nor l anguage where thei r voi ce i s not heard, because thei r sound has gone out
through al l the earth, and thei r words to the end of the worl d
610
--and thi s because
thou, O Lord, hast mul ti pl i ed these thi ngs by thy bl essi ng.
27. Am I speaki ng fal sel y? Am I mi ngl i ng and confoundi ng and not ri ghtl y
di sti ngui shi ng between the knowl edge of these thi ngs i n the fi rmament of heaven
and those corporeal works i n the swel l i ng sea and beneath the fi rmament of
heaven? For there are those thi ngs, the knowl edge of whi ch i s sol i d and defi ned. I t
does not i ncrease from generati on to generati on and thus they stand, as i t were, as
l i ghts of wi sdom and knowl edge. But there are many and vari ed physi cal processes
that mani fest these sel fsame pri nci pl es. And thus one thi ng growi ng from another i s
mul ti pl i ed by thy bl essi ng, O God, who dost so refresh our easi l y weari ed mortal
senses that i n our mental cogni ti on a si ngl e thi ng may be fi gured and si gni fi ed i n
many di fferent ways by di fferent bodi l y moti ons.
The waters have brought forth these mysteri es, but onl y at thy word. The
needs of the peopl e who were al i en to the eterni ty of thy truth have cal l ed them
forth, but onl y i n thy gospel , si nce i t was these waters whi ch cast them up--the
waters whose stagnant bi tterness was the reason why they came forth through thy
605
Ps. 19:2.
606
Cf. Acts 2:2, 3.
607
Cf. Matt. 5:14, 15.
608
Cf. Gen. 1:20.
609
Cf. Jer. 15:19.
610
Ps. 19:4.
Word.
28. Now al l the thi ngs that thou hast made are fai r, and yet, l o, thou who
di dst make al l thi ngs art i nexpressi bl y fai rer. And i f Adam had not fal l en away from
thee, that bracki sh sea--the human race--so deepl y pryi ng, so boi sterousl y swel l i ng,
so restl essl y movi ng, woul d never have fl owed forth from hi s bel l y. Thus, there
woul d have been no need for thy mi ni sters to use corporeal and tangi bl e si gns i n the
mi dst of many waters i n order to show forth thei r mysti cal deeds and words. For
thi s i s the way I i nterpret the phrases creepi ng creatures and fl yi ng fowl . Sti l l ,
men who have been i nstructed and i ni ti ated and made dependent on thy corporeal
mysteri es woul d not be abl e to profi t from them i f i t were not that thei r soul has a
hi gher l i fe and unl ess, after the word of i ts admi ssi on, i t di d not l ook beyond toward
i ts perfecti on.
CHAPTER XXI
29. And thus, i n thy Word, i t was not the depth of the sea but the earth,
611
separated from the bracki shness of the water, that brought forth, not the creepi ng
and the fl yi ng creature that has l i fe, but the l i vi ng soul i tsel f!
612
And now thi s soul no l onger has need of bapti sm, as the heathen had, or as i t
di d when i t was covered wi th the waters--and there can be no other entrance i nto
the Ki ngdom of Heaven, si nce thou hast appoi nted that bapti sm shoul d be the
entrance. Nor does i t seek great, mi racul ous works by whi ch to buttress fai th. For
such a soul does not refuse to bel i eve unl ess i t sees si gns and marvel s, now that the
fai thful earth i s separated from the waters of the sea, whi ch have been made
bi tter by i nfi del i ty. Thus, for them, tongues are for a si gn, not to those who bel i eve
but to those who do not bel i eve.
613
And the earth whi ch thou hast founded above the waters does not stand i n
need of those fl yi ng creatures whi ch the waters brought forth at thy word. Send
forth thy word i nto i t by the agency of thy messengers. For we onl y tel l of thei r
works, but i t i s thou who dost the works i n them, so that they may bri ng forth a
l i vi ng soul i n the earth.
The earth bri ngs forth the l i vi ng soul because the earth i s the cause of
such thi ngs bei ng done by thy messengers, just as the sea was the cause of the
producti on of the creepi ng creatures havi ng l i fe and the fl yi ng fowl under the
fi rmament of heaven. The earth no l onger needs them, al though i t feeds on the
Fi sh whi ch was taken out of the deep,
614
set out on that tabl e whi ch thou preparest
i n the presence of those who bel i eve. To thi s end he was rai sed from the deep: that
he mi ght feed the dry l and. And the fowl , even though they were bred i n the sea,
wi l l yet be mul ti pl i ed on the earth. The preachi ng of the fi rst evangel i sts was cal l ed
forth by reason of mans i nfi del i ty, but the fai thful al so are exhorted and bl essed by
them i n mani fol d ways, day by day. The l i vi ng soul has i ts ori gi n from the earth,
because onl y to the fai thful i s there any profi t i n restrai ni ng themsel ves from the
l ove of thi s worl d, so that thei r soul may l i ve to thee. Thi s soul was dead whi l e i t
was l i vi ng i n pl easures--i n pl easures that bear death i n them--whereas thou, O
611
That i s, the Church.
612
An al l egori cal i deal type of the perfecti i n the Church.
613
1 Cor. 14:22.
614
The fi sh was an earl y Chri sti an rebus for "Jesus Chri st." The Greek word for fi sh, , was
arranged acrosti cal l y to make the phrase , , ; cf. Smi th and
Cheetham, Dictionary of Christian Antiquities, pp. 673f.; see al so Cabrol , Dictionnaire d'archologie
chrtienne, Vol . 14, col s. 1246-1252, for a ful l account of the symbol i sm and pi ctures of earl y
exampl es.
Lord, art the l i vi ng del i ght of the pure heart.
30. Now, therefore, l et thy mi ni sters do thei r work on the earth--not as they
di d formerl y i n the waters of i nfi del i ty, when they had to preach and speak by
mi racl es and mysteri es and mysti cal expressi ons, i n whi ch i gnorance--the mother of
wonder--gi ves them an attenti ve ear because of i ts fear of occul t and strange thi ngs.
For thi s i s the entry i nto fai th for the sons of Adam who are forgetful of thee, who
hi de themsel ves from thy face, and who have become a darkened abyss. I nstead, l et
thy mi ni sters work even as on the dry l and, safe from the whi rl pool s of the abyss.
Let them be an exampl e unto the fai thful by l i vi ng before them and sti rri ng them
up to i mi tati on.
For i n such a setti ng, men wi l l heed, not wi th the mere i ntent to hear, but
al so to act. Seek the Lord and your soul shal l l i ve
615
and the earth may bri ng forth
the l i vi ng soul . Be not conformed to thi s worl d;
616
separate yoursel ves from i t. The
soul l i ves by avoi di ng those thi ngs whi ch bri ng death i f they are l oved. Restrai n
yoursel ves from the unbri dl ed wi l dness of pri de, from the i ndol ent passi ons of
l uxury, and from what i s fal sel y cal l ed knowl edge.
617
Thus may the wi l d beast be
tamed, the cattl e subdued, and the serpent made harml ess. For, i n al l egory, these
fi gures are the moti ons of our mi nd: that i s to say, the haughti ness of pri de, the
del i ght of l ust, and the poi son of curi osi ty are moti ons of the dead soul --not so dead
that i t has l ost al l moti on, but dead because i t has deserted the fountai n of l i fe, and
so has been taken up by thi s transi tory worl d and conformed to i t.
31. But thy Word, O God, i s a fountai n of l i fe eternal , and i t does not pass
away. Therefore, thi s deserti on i s restrai ned by thy Word when i t says to us, Be not
conformed to thi s worl d, to the end that the earth may bri ng forth a l i vi ng soul
i n the fountai n of l i fe--a soul di sci pl i ned by thy Word, by thy evangel i sts, by the
fol l owi ng of the fol l owers of thy Chri st. For thi s i s the meani ng of after hi s ki nd. A
man tends to fol l ow the exampl e of hi s fri end. Thus, he [Paul ] says, Become as I
am, because I have become as you are.
618
Thus, i n thi s l i vi ng soul there shal l be good beasts, acti ng meekl y. For thou
hast commanded thi s, sayi ng: Do your work i n meekness and you shal l be l oved by
al l men.
619
And the cattl e wi l l be good, for i f they eat much they shal l not suffer
from sati ety; and i f they do not eat at al l they wi l l suffer no l ack. And the serpents
wi l l be good, not poi sonous to do harm, but onl y cunni ng i n thei r watchful ness--
expl ori ng onl y as much of thi s temporal nature as i s necessary i n order that the
eternal nature may be cl earl y seen, understood through the thi ngs that have been
made.
620
For al l these ani mal s wi l l obey reason when, havi ng been restrai ned from
thei r death-deal i ng ways, they l i ve and become good.
CHAPTER XXI I
32. Thus, O Lord, our God, our Creator, when our affecti ons have been turned
from the l ove of the worl d, i n whi ch we di ed by l i vi ng i l l ; and when we began to be
a l i vi ng soul by l i vi ng wel l ; and when the word, Be not conformed to thi s worl d,
whi ch thou di dst speak through thy apostl e, has been ful fi l l ed i n us, then wi l l fol l ow
what thou di dst i mmedi atel y add when thou sai dst, But be transformed by the
615
Cf. Ps. 69:32.
616
Cf. Rom. 12:2.
617
Cf. 1 Ti m. 6:20.
618
Gal . 4:12.
619
Cf. Eccl us. 3:19.
620
Rom. 1:20.
renewi ng of your mi nd.
621
Thi s wi l l not now be after thei r ki nd, as i f we were
fol l owi ng the nei ghbor who went before us, or as i f we were l i vi ng after the exampl e
of a better man--for thou di dst not say, Let man be made after hi s ki nd, but
rather, Let us make man i n our own i mage and our own l i keness,
622
so that then
we may be abl e to prove what thy wi l l i s.
Thi s i s why thy mi ni ster--begetti ng chi l dren by the gospel so that he mi ght
not al ways have them babes whom he woul d have to feed wi th mi l k and nurse as
chi l dren--thi s i s why he sai d, Be transformed by the renewi ng of your mi nds, that
you may prove what i s the good and acceptabl e and perfect wi l l of God.
623
Therefore thou di dst not say, Let man be made, but rather, Let us make man.
And thou di dst not say, After hi s ki nd, but after our i mage and l i keness.
I ndeed, i t i s onl y when man has been renewed i n hi s mi nd, and comes to behol d and
apprehend thy truth, that he does not need another man as hi s di rector, to show
hi m how to i mi tate human exampl es. I nstead, by thy gui dance, he proves what i s
thy good and acceptabl e and perfect wi l l . And thou dost teach hi m, now that he i s
abl e to understand, to see the tri ni ty of the Uni ty and the uni ty of the Tri ni ty.
Thi s i s why the statement i n the pl ural , Let us make man, i s al so connected
wi th the statement i n the si ngul ar, And God made man. Thus i t i s sai d i n the
pl ural , After our l i keness, and then i n the si ngul ar, After the i mage of God. Man
i s thus transformed i n the knowl edge of God, accordi ng to the i mage of Hi m who
created hi m. And now, havi ng been made spi ri tual , he judges al l thi ngs--that i s, al l
thi ngs that are appropri ate to be judged--and he hi msel f i s judged of no man.
624
CHAPTER XXI I I
33. Now thi s phrase, he judges al l thi ngs, means that man has domi ni on
over the fi sh of the sea, and over the fowl of the ai r, and over al l cattl e and wi l d
beasts, and over al l the earth, and over every creepi ng thi ng that creeps on the
earth. And he does thi s by the power of reason i n hi s mi nd by whi ch he percei ves
the thi ngs of the Spi ri t of God.
625
But, when man was put i n thi s hi gh offi ce, he
di d not understand what was i nvol ved and thus was reduced to the l evel of the
brute beasts, and made l i ke them.
626
Therefore i n thy Church, O our God, by the grace thou hast gi ven us--si nce
we are thy workmanshi p, created i n good works (not onl y those who are i n spi ri tual
authori ty but al so those who are spi ri tual l y subject to them)--thou madest man
mal e and femal e. Here al l are equal i n thy spi ri tual grace where, as far as sex i s
concerned, there i s nei ther mal e nor femal e, just as there i s nei ther Jew nor Greek,
nor bond nor free. Spi ri tual men, therefore, whether those who are i n authori ty or
those who are subject to authori ty, judge spi ri tual l y. They do not judge by the l i ght
of that spi ri tual knowl edge whi ch shi nes i n the fi rmament, for i t i s i nappropri ate for
them to judge by so subl i me an authori ty. Nor does i t behoove them to judge
concerni ng thy Book i tsel f, al though there are some thi ngs i n i t whi ch are not cl ear.
I nstead, we submi t our understandi ng to i t and bel i eve wi th certai nty that what i s
hi dden from our si ght i s sti l l ri ghtl y and trul y spoken. I n thi s way, even though a
man i s now spi ri tual and renewed by the knowl edge of God accordi ng to the i mage
621
Rom. 12:2.
622
Gen. 1:26.
623
Rom. 12:2 (mi xed text).
624
Cf. 1 Cor. 2:15.
625
1 Cor. 2:14.
626
Cf. Ps. 49:20.
of hi m who created hi m, he must be a doer of the l aw rather than i ts judge.
627
Nei ther does the spi ri tual man judge concerni ng that di vi si on between spi ri tual and
carnal men whi ch i s known to thy eyes, O God, and whi ch may not, as yet, be made
mani fest to us by thei r external works, so that we may know them by thei r frui ts;
yet thou, O God, knowest them al ready and thou hast di vi ded and cal l ed them
secretl y, before the fi rmament was made. Nor does a man, even though he i s
spi ri tual , judge the di sordered state of soci ety i n thi s worl d. For what busi ness of
hi s i s i t to judge those who are wi thout, si nce he cannot know whi ch of them may
l ater on come i nto the sweetness of thy grace, and whi ch of them may conti nue i n
the perpetual bi tterness of thei r i mpi ety?
34. Man, then, even i f he was made after thy own i mage, di d not recei ve the
power of domi ni on over the l i ghts of heaven, nor over the secret heaven, nor over
the day and the ni ght whi ch thou cal l edst forth before the creati on of the heaven,
nor over the gatheri ng together of the waters whi ch i s the sea. I nstead, he recei ved
domi ni on over the fi sh of the sea, and the fowl s of the ai r; and over al l cattl e, and al l
the earth; and over al l creepi ng thi ngs whi ch creep on the earth.
I ndeed, he judges and approves what he fi nds ri ght and di sapproves what he
fi nds ami ss, whether i n the cel ebrati on of those mysteri es by whi ch are i ni ti ated
those whom thy mercy hast sought out i n the mi dst of many waters; or i n that
sacrament i n whi ch i s exhi bi ted the Fi sh i tsel f
628
whi ch, bei ng rai sed from the
depths, the pi ous earth
629
feeds upon; or, i n the si gns and symbol s of words, whi ch
are subject to the authori ty of thy Book--such si gns as burst forth and sound from
the mouth, as i f i t were fl yi ng under the fi rmament, i nterpreti ng, expoundi ng,
di scoursi ng, di sputi ng, bl essi ng, i nvoki ng thee, so that the peopl e may answer,
Amen.
630
The reason that al l these words have to be pronounced vocal l y i s because
of the abyss of thi s worl d and the bl i ndness of our fl esh i n whi ch thoughts cannot be
seen di rectl y,
631
but have to be spoken al oud i n our ears. Thus, al though the fl yi ng
fowl are mul ti pl i ed on the earth, they sti l l take thei r ori gi ns from the waters.
The spi ri tual man al so judges by approvi ng what i s ri ght and reprovi ng what
he fi nds ami ss i n the works and moral s of the fai thful , such as i n thei r al msgi vi ng,
whi ch i s si gni fi ed by the phrase, The earth bri ngi ng forth i ts frui t. And he judges
of the l i vi ng soul , whi ch i s then made to l i ve by the di sci pl i ni ng of her affecti ons i n
chasti ty, i n fasti ng, and i n hol y medi tati on. And he al so judges concerni ng al l those
thi ngs whi ch are percei ved by the bodi l y senses. For i t can be sai d that he shoul d
judge i n al l matters about whi ch he al so has the power of correcti on.
CHAPTER XXI V
35. But what i s thi s; what ki nd of mystery i s thi s? Behol d, O Lord, thou dost
bl ess men i n order that they may be frui tful and mul ti pl y, and repl eni sh the earth.
I n thi s art thou not maki ng a si gn to us that we may understand somethi ng
[al l egori cal l y]? Why di dst thou not al so bl ess the l i ght, whi ch thou cal l edst the
day, nor the fi rmament of heaven, nor the l i ghts, nor the stars, nor the earth, nor
the sea? I mi ght repl y, O our God, that thou i n creati ng us after thy own i mage--I
mi ght repl y that thou di dst wi l l to bestow thi s gi ft of bl essi ng upon man al one, i f
thou hadst not si mi l arl y bl essed the fi shes and the whal es, so that they too shoul d
627
Cf. James 4:11.
628
See above, Ch. XXI , 30.
629
I .e., the Church.
630
Cf. 1 Cor. 14:16.
631
Another remi nder that, i deal l y, knowl edge i s i mmedi ate and di rect.
be frui tful and mul ti pl y and repl eni sh the waters of the sea; and al so the fowl s, so
that they shoul d be mul ti pl i ed on the earth. I n l i ke fashi on, I mi ght say that thi s
bl essi ng properl y bel onged onl y to such creatures as are propagated from thei r own
ki nd, i f I coul d fi nd i t gi ven al so as a bl essi ng to trees, and pl ants, and the beasts of
the earth. But thi s i ncrease and mul ti pl y was not sai d to pl ants or trees or beasts
or serpents--al though al l of these, al ong wi th fi shes and bi rds and men, do actual l y
i ncrease by propagati on and so preserve thei r speci es.
36. What, then, shal l I say, O Truth, O my Li fe: that i t was i dl y and vai nl y
sai d? Surel y not thi s, O Father of pi ety; far be i t from a servant of thy Word to say
anythi ng l i ke thi s! But i f I do not understand what thou meanest by that phrase, l et
those who are better than I --that i s, those more i ntel l i gent than I --i nterpret i t
better, i n the degree that thou hast gi ven each of us the abi l i ty to understand.
But l et al so my confessi on be pl easi ng i n thy eyes, for I confess to thee that I
bel i eve, O Lord, that thou hast not spoken thus i n vai n. Nor wi l l I be si l ent as to
what my readi ng has suggested to me. For i t i s val i d, and I do not see anythi ng to
prevent me from thus i nterpreti ng the fi gurati ve sayi ngs i n thy books. For I know
that a thi ng that i s understood i n onl y one way i n the mi nd may be expressed i n
many di fferent ways by the body; and I know that a thi ng that has onl y one manner
of expressi on through the body may be understood i n the mi nd i n many di fferent
ways. For consi der thi s si ngl e exampl e--the l ove of God and of our nei ghbor--by how
many di fferent mysteri es and countl ess l anguages, and, i n each l anguage, by how
many di fferent ways of speaki ng, thi s i s si gni fi ed corporeal l y! I n si mi l ar fashi on, the
young fi sh i n the waters i ncrease and mul ti pl y. On the other hand, whoever you
are who reads thi s, observe and behol d what Scri pture decl ares, and how the voi ce
pronounces i t in only one way, I n the begi nni ng God created heaven and earth.
632
I s thi s not understood i n many di fferent ways by di fferent ki nds of true
i nterpretati ons whi ch do not i nvol ve the decei t of error? Thus the offspri ng of men
are frui tful and do mul ti pl y.
633
37. I f, then, we consi der the nature of thi ngs, i n thei r stri ctl y l i teral sense,
and not al l egori cal l y, the phrase, Be frui tful and mul ti pl y, appl i es to al l thi ngs
that are begotten by seed. But i f we treat these words fi gurati vel y, as I judge that
the Scri pture i ntended them to be--si nce i t cannot be for nothi ng that thi s bl essi ng
i s attri buted onl y to the offspri ng of mari ne l i fe and man--then we di scover that the
characteri sti c of fecundi ty bel ongs al so to the spi ri tual and physi cal creati ons
(whi ch are si gni fi ed by heaven and earth), and al so i n ri ghteous and unri ghteous
soul s (whi ch are si gni fi ed by l i ght and darkness) and i n the sacred wri ters through
whom the l aw i s uttered (who are si gni fi ed by the fi rmament establ i shed between
the waters and the waters); and i n the earthl y commonweal th sti l l steeped i n thei r
bi tterness (whi ch i s si gni fi ed by the sea); and i n the zeal of hol y soul s (si gni fi ed by
the dry l and); and the works of mercy done i n thi s present l i fe (si gni fi ed by the
seed-beari ng herbs and frui t-beari ng trees); and i n spi ri tual gi fts whi ch shi ne out
for our edi fi cati on (si gni fi ed by the l i ghts of heaven); and to human affecti ons
rul ed by temperance (si gni fi ed by the l i vi ng soul ). I n al l these i nstances we meet
wi th mul ti pl i ci ty and ferti l i ty and i ncrease; but the parti cul ar way i n whi ch Be
frui tful and mul ti pl y can be exempl i fi ed di ffers wi del y. Thus a si ngl e category may
632
Here, agai n, as i n a coda, Augusti ne restates hi s central theme and moti f i n the whol e of hi s
"confessi ons": the pri macy of God, Hi s constant creati vi ty, hi s mysteri ous, unweari ed, unfrustrated
redempti ve l ove. Al l are summed up i n thi s mystery of creati on i n whi ch the purposes of God are
announced and from whi ch al l Chri sti an hope takes i ts premi se.
633
That i s, from basi c and essenti al l y si mpl e i deas, they prol i ferate mul ti pl e--and val i d--i mpl i cati ons
and corol l ari es.
i ncl ude many thi ngs, and we cannot di scover them except through thei r si gns
di spl ayed corporeal l y and by the thi ngs bei ng excogi tated by the mi nd.
We thus i nterpret the phrase, The generati on of the waters, as referri ng to
the corporeal l y expressed si gns [of fecundi ty], si nce they are made necessary by the
degree of our i nvol vement i n the fl esh. But the power of human generati on refers to
the process of mental concepti on; thi s we see i n the frui tful ness of reason.
Therefore, we bel i eve that to both of these two ki nds i t has been sai d by thee, O
Lord, Be frui tful and mul ti pl y. I n thi s bl essi ng, I recogni ze that thou hast granted
us the facul ty and power not onl y to express what we understand by a si ngl e i dea i n
many di fferent ways but al so to understand i n many ways what we fi nd expressed
obscurel y i n a si ngl e statement. Thus the waters of the sea are repl eni shed, and
thei r waves are symbol s of di verse meani ngs. And thus al so the earth i s al so
repl eni shed wi th human offspri ng. I ts dryness i s the symbol of i ts thi rst for truth,
and of the fact that reason rul es over i t.
CHAPTER XXV
38. I al so desi re to say, O my Lord God, what the fol l owi ng Scri pture suggests
to me. I ndeed, I wi l l speak wi thout fear, for I wi l l speak the truth, as thou i nspi rest
me to know what thou dost wi l l that I shoul d say concerni ng these words. For I do
not bel i eve I can speak the truth by any other i nspi rati on than thi ne, si nce thou art
the Truth, and every man a l i ar.
634
Hence, he that speaks a l i e, speaks out of
hi msel f. Therefore, i f I am to speak the truth, I must speak of thy truth.
Behol d, thou hast gi ven us for our food every seed-beari ng herb on the face of
the earth, and al l trees that bear i n themsel ves seed of thei r own ki nd; and not to us
onl y, but to al l the fowl s of the ai r and the beasts of the fi el d and al l creepi ng
thi ngs.
635
Sti l l , thou hast not gi ven these thi ngs to the fi shes and great whal es. We
have sai d that by these frui ts of the earth the works of mercy were si gni fi ed and
fi gured forth i n an al l egory: thus, from the frui tful earth, thi ngs are provi ded for the
necessi ti es of l i fe. Such an earth was the godl y Onesi phorus, to whose house thou
gavest mercy because he often refreshed Paul and was not ashamed of hi s bonds.
636
Thi s was al so the way of the brethren from Macedoni a, who bore such frui t and
suppl i ed to hi m what he l acked. But noti ce how he gri eves for certai n trees, whi ch
di d not gi ve hi m the frui t that was due, when he sai d, At my fi rst answer no man
stood wi th me, but al l men forsook me: I pray God, that i t be not l ai d up to thei r
charge.
637
For we owe frui ts to those who mi ni ster spi ri tual doctri ne to us
through thei r understandi ng of the di vi ne mysteri es. We owe these to them as men.
We owe these frui ts, al so, to the l i vi ng soul s si nce they offer themsel ves as
exampl es for us i n thei r own conti nence. And, fi nal l y, we owe them l i kewi se to the
fl yi ng creatures because of thei r bl essi ngs whi ch are mul ti pl i ed on the earth, for
thei r sound has gone forth i nto al l the earth.
638
CHAPTER XXVI
39. Those who fi nd thei r joy i n i t are fed by these frui ts; but those whose
god i s thei r bel l y fi nd no joy i n them. For i n those who offer these frui ts, i t i s not the
634
Cf. Rom. 3:4.
635
Cf. Gen. 1:29, 30.
636
Cf. 2 Ti m. 1:16.
637
2 Ti m. 4:16.
638
Cf. Ps. 19:4.
frui t i tsel f that matters, but the spi ri t i n whi ch they gi ve them. Therefore, he who
serves God and not hi s own bel l y may rejoi ce i n them, and I pl ai nl y see why. I see i t,
and I rejoi ce wi th hi m greatl y. For he [Paul ] had recei ved from the Phi l i ppi ans the
thi ngs they had sent by Epaphrodi tus; yet I see why he rejoi ced. He was fed by what
he found hi s joy i n; for, speaki ng trul y, he says, I rejoi ce i n the Lord greatl y, that
now at the l ast your care of me has fl ouri shed agai n, i n whi ch you were once so
careful , but i t had become a weari ness to you.
639
These Phi l i ppi ans, i n thei r
extended peri od of weari ness i n wel l -doi ng, had become weak and were, so to say,
dri ed up; they were no l onger bri ngi ng forth the frui ts of good works. And now Paul
rejoi ces i n them--and not just for hi msel f al one--because they were fl ouri shi ng agai n
i n mi ni steri ng to hi s needs. Therefore he adds: I do not speak i n respect of my
want, for I have l earned i n whatsoever state I am therewi th to be content. I know
both how to be abased and how to abound; everywhere and i n al l thi ngs I am
i nstructed both to be ful l and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can
do al l thi ngs through Chri st who strengtheneth me.
640
40. Where do you fi nd joy i n al l thi ngs, O great Paul ? What i s the cause of
your joy? On what do you feed, O man, renewed now i n the knowl edge of God after
the i mage of hi m who created you, O l i vi ng soul of such great conti nence--O tongue
l i ke a wi nged bi rd, speaki ng mysteri es? What food i s owed such creatures; what i s i t
that feeds you? I t i s joy! For hear what fol l ows: Neverthel ess, you have done wel l i n
that you have shared wi th me i n my affl i cti on.
641
Thi s i s what he fi nds hi s joy i n;
thi s i s what he feeds on. They have done wel l , not merel y because hi s need had been
rel i eved--for he says to them, You have opened my heart when I was i n di stress--
but because he knew both how to abound and how to suffer need, i n thee who di dst
strengthen hi m. And so he sai d, You [Phi l i ppi ans] know al so that i n the begi nni ng
of the gospel , when I departed from Macedoni a, no church shared wi th me i n regard
to gi vi ng and recei vi ng, except you onl y. For even i n Thessal oni ca you sent ti me and
ti me agai n, accordi ng to my need.
642
He now fi nds hi s joy i n the fact that they have
returned once agai n to these good works, and he i s made gl ad that they are
fl ouri shi ng agai n, as a frui tful fi el d when i t recovers i ts ferti l i ty.
41. Was i t on account of hi s own needs al one that he sai d, You have sent me
gi fts accordi ng to my needs? Does he fi nd joy i n that? Certai nl y not for that al one.
But how do we know thi s? We know i t because he hi msel f adds, Not because I
desi re a gi ft, but because I desi re frui t.
643
Now I have l earned from thee, O my God, how to di sti ngui sh between the
terms gi ft and frui t. A gi ft i s the thi ng i tsel f, gi ven by one who bestows l i fes
necessi ti es on another--such as money, food, dri nk, cl othi ng, shel ter, and ai d. But
the frui t i s the good and ri ght wi l l of the gi ver. For the good Teacher not onl y sai d,
He that recei ves a prophet, but he added, I n the name of a prophet. And he di d
not say onl y, He who recei ves a ri ghteous man, but added, I n the name of a
ri ghteous man.
644
Thus, surel y, the former shal l recei ve the reward of a prophet;
the l atter, that of a ri ghteous man. Nor di d he say onl y, Whoever shal l gi ve a cup of
col d water to one of these l i ttl e ones to dri nk, but added, I n the name of a di sci pl e;
and concl uded, Trul y I tel l you he shal l not l ose hi s reward. The gi ft i nvol ves
recei vi ng a prophet, recei vi ng a ri ghteous man, handi ng a cup of col d water to a
639
Phi l . 4:10 (mi xed text).
640
Phi l . 4:11-13.
641
Phi l . 4:14.
642
Phi l . 4:15-17.
643
Phi l . 4:17.,
644
Cf. Matt. 10:41, 42.
di sci pl e: but the frui t i s to do al l thi s i n the name of a prophet, i n the name of a
ri ghteous man, i n the name of a di sci pl e. El i jah was fed by the wi dow wi th frui t,
for she knew that she was feedi ng a man of God and thi s i s why she fed hi m. But he
was fed by the raven wi th a gi ft. The i nner man of El i jah was not fed by thi s gi ft,
but onl y the outer man, whi ch otherwi se mi ght have peri shed from the l ack of such
food.
CHAPTER XXVI I
42. Therefore I wi l l speak before thee, O Lord, what i s true, i n order that the
uni nstructed
645
and the i nfi del s, who requi re the mysteri es of i ni ti ati on and great
works of mi racl es--whi ch we bel i eve are si gni fi ed by the phrase, Fi shes and great
whal es--may be hel ped i n bei ng gai ned [for the Church] when they endeavor to
provi de that thy servants are refreshed i n body, or otherwi se ai ded i n thi s present
l i fe. For they do not real l y know why thi s shoul d be done, and to what end. Thus the
former do not feed the l atter, and the l atter do not feed the former; for nei ther do
the former offer thei r gi fts through a hol y and ri ght i ntent, nor do the others
rejoi ce i n the gi fts of those who do not as yet see the frui t. For i t i s on the frui t
that the mi nd i s fed, and by whi ch i t i s gl addened. And, therefore, fi shes and whal es
are not fed on such food as the earth al one bri ngs forth when they have been
separated and di vi ded from the bi tterness of the waters of the sea.
CHAPTER XXVI I I
43. And thou, O God, di dst see everythi ng that thou hadst made and, behol d,
i t was very good.
646
We al so see the whol e creati on and, behol d, i t i s al l very good.
I n each separate ki nd of thy work, when thou di dst say, Let them be made, and
they were made, thou di dst see that i t was good. I have counted seven ti mes where
i t i s wri tten that thou di dst see what thou hadst made was good. And there i s the
ei ghth ti me when thou di dst see all thi ngs that thou hadst made and, behol d, they
were not onl y good but al so very good; for they were now seen as a total i ty.
I ndi vi dual l y they were onl y good; but taken as a total i ty they were both good and
very good. Beauti ful bodi es express thi s truth; for a body whi ch consi sts of several
parts, each of whi ch i s beauti ful , i s i tsel f far more beauti ful than any of i ts
i ndi vi dual parts separatel y, by whose wel l -ordered uni on the whol e i s compl eted
even though these parts are separatel y beauti ful .
CHAPTER XXI X
44. And I l ooked attenti vel y to fi nd whether i t was seven or ei ght ti mes that
thou di dst see thy works were good, when they were pl easi ng to thee, but I found
that there was no ti me i n thy seei ng whi ch woul d hel p me to understand i n what
sense thou hadst l ooked so many ti mes at what thou hadst made. And I sai d: O
Lord, i s not thi s thy Scri pture true, si nce thou art true, and thy truth doth set i t
forth? Why, then, dost thou say to me that i n thy seei ng there are no ti mes, whi l e
thi s Scri pture tel l s me that what thou madest each day thou di dst see to be good;
and when I counted them I found how many ti mes? To these thi ngs, thou di dst
repl y to me, for thou art my God, and thou dost speak to thy servant wi th a strong
645
I diotae: there i s some evi dence that thi s term was used to desi gnate pagans who had a nomi nal
connecti on wi th the Chri sti an communi ty but had not formal l y enrol l ed as catechumens. See Th.
Zahn i n Neue kirkliche Zeitschrift (1899), pp. 42-43.
646
Gen. 1:31.
voi ce i n hi s i nner ear, my deafness, and cryi ng: O man, what my Scri pture says, I
say. But i t speaks i n terms of ti me, whereas ti me does not affect my Word--my Word
whi ch exi sts coeternal l y wi th mysel f. Thus the thi ngs you see through my Spi ri t, I
see; just as what you say through my Spi ri t, I say. But whi l e you see those thi ngs i n
ti me, I do not see them i n ti me; and when you speak those thi ngs i n ti me, I do not
speak them i n ti me.
CHAPTER XXX
45. And I heard thi s, O Lord my God, and drank up a drop of sweetness from
thy truth, and understood that there are some men to whom thy works are
di spl easi ng, who say that many of them thou di dst make under the compul si on of
necessi ty--such as the pattern of the heavens and the courses of the stars--and that
thou di dst not make them out of what was thi ne, but that they were al ready created
el sewhere and from other sources. I t was thus [they say] that thou di dst col l ect and
fashi on and weave them together, as i f from thy conquered enemi es thou di dst rai se
up the wal l s of the uni verse; so that, bui l t i nto the ramparts of the bui l di ng, they
mi ght not be abl e a second ti me to rebel agai nst thee. And, even of other thi ngs,
they say that thou di dst nei ther make them nor arrange them--for exampl e, al l fl esh
and al l the very smal l l i vi ng creatures, and al l thi ngs fastened to the earth by thei r
roots. But [they say] a hosti l e mi nd and an al i en nature--not created by thee and i n
every way contrary to thee--begot and framed al l these thi ngs i n the nether parts of
the worl d.
647
They who speak thus are mad [insani], si nce they do not see thy works
through thy Spi ri t, nor recogni ze thee i n them.
CHAPTER XXXI
46. But for those who see these thi ngs through thy Spi ri t, i t i s thou who seest
them i n them. When, therefore, they see that these thi ngs are good, i t i s thou who
seest that they are good; and whatsoever thi ngs are pl easi ng because of thee, i t i s
thou who dost gi ve us pl easure i n those thi ngs. Those thi ngs whi ch pl ease us
through thy Spi ri t are pl easi ng to thee i n us. For what man knows the thi ngs of a
man except the spi ri t of a man whi ch i s i n hi m? Even so, no man knows the thi ngs
of God, but the Spi ri t of God. Now we have not recei ved the spi ri t of the worl d, but
the Spi ri t of God, that we mi ght know the thi ngs that are freel y gi ven to us from
God.
648
And I am admoni shed to say: Yes, trul y. No man knows the thi ngs of God,
but the Spi ri t of God: but how, then, do we al so know what thi ngs are gi ven us by
God? The answer i s gi ven me: Because we know these thi ngs by hi s Spi ri t; for no
one knows but the Spi ri t of God. But just as i t i s trul y sai d to those who were to
speak through the Spi ri t of God, I t i s not you who speak, so i t i s al so trul y sai d to
them who know through the Spi ri t of God, I t i s not you yoursel ves who know, and
just as ri ghtl y i t may be sai d to those who percei ve through the Spi ri t of God that a
thi ng i s good; i t i s not they who see, but God who seeth that i t i s good.
I t i s, therefore, one thi ng to thi nk l i ke the men who judge somethi ng to be
bad when i t i s good, as do those whom we have al ready menti oned. I t i s qui te
another thi ng that a man shoul d see as good what i s good--as i s the case wi th many
whom thy creati on pl eases because i t i s good, yet what pl eases them i n i t i s not
thee, and so they woul d prefer to fi nd thei r joy i n thy creatures rather than to fi nd
thei r joy i n thee. I t i s sti l l another thi ng that when a man sees a thi ng to be good,
647
A reference to the Mani chean cosmogony and si mi l ar dual i sti c doctri nes of "creati on."
648
1 Cor. 2:11, 12.
God shoul d see i n hi m that i t i s good--that trul y he may be l oved i n what he hath
made, he who cannot be l oved except through the Hol y Spi ri t whi ch he hath gi ven
us: Because the l ove of God i s shed abroad i n our hearts by the Hol y Spi ri t who i s
gi ven to us.
649
I t i s by hi m that we see whatever we see to be good i n any degree,
si nce i t i s from hi m, who doth not exi st i n any parti cul ar degree but who si mpl y i s
what he i s.
650
CHAPTER XXXI I
47. Thanks be to thee, O Lord! We see the heaven and the earth, ei ther the
corporeal part--hi gher and l ower--or the spi ri tual and physi cal creati on. And we see
the l i ght made and di vi ded from the darkness for the adornment of these parts,
from whi ch the uni versal mass of the worl d or the uni versal creati on i s consti tuted.
We see the fi rmament of heaven, ei ther the ori gi nal body of the worl d between the
spi ri tual (hi gher) waters and the corporeal (l ower) waters
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or the expanse of ai r--
whi ch i s al so cal l ed heaven--through whi ch the fowl s of heaven wander, between
the waters whi ch move i n cl ouds above them and whi ch drop down i n dew on cl ear
ni ghts, and those waters whi ch are heavy and fl ow al ong the earth. We see the
waters gathered together i n the vast pl ai ns of the sea; and the dry l and, fi rst bare
and then formed, so as to be vi si bl e and wel l -ordered; and the soi l of herbs and
trees. We see the l i ght shi ni ng from above--the sun to serve the day, the moon and
the stars to gi ve cheer i n the ni ght; and we see by al l these that the i nterval s of ti me
are marked and noted. We see on every si de the watery el ements, frui tful wi th
fi shes, beasts, and bi rds--and we noti ce that the densi ty of the atmosphere whi ch
supports the fl i ghts of bi rds i s i ncreased by the evaporati on of the waters. We see
the face of the earth, repl ete wi th earthl y creatures; and man, created i n thy i mage
and l i keness, i n the very i mage and l i keness of thee--that i s, havi ng the power of
reason and understandi ng--by vi rtue of whi ch he has been set over al l i rrati onal
creatures. And just as there i s i n hi s soul one el ement whi ch control s by i ts power of
refl ecti on and another whi ch has been made subject so that i t shoul d obey, so al so,
physi cal l y, the woman was made for the man; for, al though she had a l i ke nature of
rati onal i ntel l i gence i n the mi nd, sti l l i n the sex of her body she shoul d be si mi l arl y
subject to the sex of her husband, as the appeti te of acti on i s subjected to the
del i berati on of the mi nd i n order to concei ve the rul es of ri ght acti on. These thi ngs
we see, and each of them i s good; and the whol e i s very good!
CHAPTER XXXI I I
48. Let thy works prai se thee, that we may l ove thee; and l et us l ove thee that
thy works may prai se thee--those works whi ch have a begi nni ng and an end i n ti me-
-a ri si ng and a setti ng, a growth and a decay, a form and a pri vati on. Thus, they
have thei r successi ons of morni ng and eveni ng, partl y hi dden, partl y pl ai n. For they
were made from nothi ng by thee, and not from thysel f, and not from any matter
that i s not thi ne, or that was created beforehand. They were created from
concreated matter--that i s, matter that was created by thee at the same ti me that
thou di dst form i ts forml essness, wi thout any i nterval of ti me. Yet, si nce the matter
649
Rom. 5:5.
650
Sed quod est, est. Note the vari ant text i n Skutel l a, op. cit.: sed est, est. Thi s i s obvi ousl y an echo
of the Vul gate Ex. 3:14: ego sum qui sum.
651
Augusti ne hi msel f had mi sgi vi ngs about thi s passage. I n the Retractations, he says that thi s
statement was made "wi thout due consi derati on." But he then adds, wi th great justi ce: "However,
the poi nt i n questi on i s very obscure" (res autem in abdito est valde); cf. Retract., 2:6.
of heaven and earth i s one thi ng and the form of heaven and earth i s another thi ng,
thou di dst create matter out of absol utel y nothi ng (de omnino nihilo), but the form
of the worl d thou di dst form from forml ess matter (de informi materia). But both
were done at the same ti me, so that form fol l owed matter wi th no del ayi ng i nterval .
CHAPTER XXXI V
49. We have al so expl ored the questi on of what thou di dst desi re to fi gure
forth, both i n the creati on and i n the descri pti on of thi ngs i n thi s parti cul ar order.
And we have seen that thi ngs taken separatel y are good, and al l thi ngs taken
together are very good, both i n heaven and earth. And we have seen that thi s was
wrought through thy Word, thy onl y Son, the head and the body of the Church, and
i t si gni fi es thy predesti nati on before al l ti mes, wi thout morni ng and eveni ng. But
when, i n ti me, thou di dst begi n to unfol d the thi ngs desti ned before ti me, so that
thou mi ghtest make hi dden thi ngs mani fest and mi ghtest reorder our di sorders--
si nce our si ns were over us and we had sunk i nto profound darkness away from
thee, and thy good Spi ri t was movi ng over us to hel p us i n due season--thou di dst
justi fy the ungodl y and al so di dst di vi de them from the wi cked; and thou madest the
authori ty of thy Book a fi rmament between those above who woul d be amenabl e to
thee and those beneath who woul d be subject to them. And thou di dst gather the
soci ety of unbel i evers
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i nto a conspi racy, i n order that the zeal of the fai thful
mi ght become mani fest and that they mi ght bri ng forth works of mercy unto thee,
gi vi ng thei r earthl y ri ches to the poor to obtai n heavenl y ri ches. Then thou di dst
ki ndl e the l i ghts i n the fi rmament, whi ch are thy hol y ones, who have the Word of
Li fe and who shi ne wi th an exal ted authori ty, warranted to them by thei r spi ri tual
gi fts. And then, for the i nstructi on of the unbel i evi ng nati ons, thou di dst out of
physi cal matter produce the mysteri es and the vi si bl e mi racl es and the sounds of
words i n harmony wi th the fi rmament of thy Book, through whi ch the fai thful
shoul d be bl essed. After thi s thou di dst form the l i vi ng soul of the fai thful , through
the orderi ng of thei r passi ons by the strength of conti nence. And then thou di dst
renew, after thy i mage and l i keness, the mi nd whi ch i s fai thful to thee al one, whi ch
needs to i mi tate no human authori ty. Thus, thou di dst subordi nate rati onal acti on
to the hi gher excel l ence of i ntel l i gence, as the woman i s subordi nate to the man.
Fi nal l y, i n al l thy mi ni stri es whi ch were needed to perfect the fai thful i n thi s l i fe,
thou di dst wi l l that these same fai thful ones shoul d themsel ves bri ng forth good
thi ngs, profi tabl e for thei r temporal use and frui tful for the l i fe to come. We see al l
these thi ngs, and they are very good, because thou seest them thus i n us--thou who
hast gi ven us thy Spi ri t, by whi ch we may see them so and l ove thee i n them.
CHAPTER XXXV
50. O Lord God, grant us thy peace--for thou hast gi ven us al l thi ngs. Grant
us the peace of qui etness, the peace of the Sabbath, the peace wi thout an eveni ng.
Al l thi s most beauti ful array of thi ngs, al l so very good, wi l l pass away when al l
thei r courses are fi ni shed--for i n them there i s both morni ng and eveni ng.
51. But the seventh day i s wi thout an eveni ng, and i t has no setti ng, for thou
hast sancti fi ed i t wi th an everl asti ng durati on. After al l thy works of creati on,
whi ch were very good, thou di dst rest on the seventh day, al though thou hadst
created them al l i n unbroken rest--and thi s so that the voi ce of thy Book mi ght
speak to us wi th the pri or assurance that after our works--and they al so are very
652
See above, amaricantes, Ch. XVI I , 20.
good because thou hast gi ven them to us--we may fi nd our rest i n thee i n the
Sabbath of l i fe eternal .
653
CHAPTER XXXVI I
52. For then al so thou shal t so rest i n us as now thou workest i n us; and,
thus, that wi l l be thy rest through us, as these are thy works through us. But thou,
O Lord, workest evermore and art al ways at rest. Thou seest not i n ti me, thou
movest not i n ti me, thou restest not i n ti me. And yet thou makest al l those thi ngs
whi ch are seen i n ti me--i ndeed, the very ti mes themsel ves--and everythi ng that
proceeds i n and from ti me.
CHAPTER XXXVI I I
53. We can see al l those thi ngs whi ch thou hast made because they are--but
they are because thou seest them.
654
And we see wi th our eyes that they are, and we
see wi th our mi nds that they are good. But thou sawest them as made when thou
sawest that they woul d be made.
And now, i n thi s present ti me, we have been moved to do wel l , now that our
heart has been qui ckened by thy Spi ri t; but i n the former ti me, havi ng forsaken
thee, we were moved to do evi l .
655
But thou, O the one good God, hast never ceased
to do good! And we have accompl i shed certai n good works by thy good gi fts, and
even though they are not eternal , sti l l we hope, after these thi ngs here, to fi nd our
rest i n thy great sancti fi cati on. But thou art the Good, and needest no rest, and art
al ways at rest, because thou thysel f art thy own rest.
What man wi l l teach men to understand thi s? And what angel wi l l teach the
angel s? Or what angel s wi l l teach men? We must ask i t of thee; we must seek i t i n
thee; we must knock for i t at thy door. Onl y thus shal l we recei ve; onl y thus shal l
we fi nd; onl y thus shal l thy door be opened.
656
653
Cf. thi s requiescamus in te wi th the requiescat in te i n Bk. I , Ch. I .
654
Cf. The City of God, XI , 10, on Augusti ne's noti on that the worl d exi sts as a thought i n the mi nd
of God.
655
Another consci ous connecti on between Bk. XI I I and Bks. I -X.
656
Thi s fi nal endi ng i s an anti phon to Bk. XI I , Ch. I , 1 above.