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AUGUSTINE: CONFESSIONS
BOOK FIVE
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 this sacrifice of my confessions from the hand of my tongue. Thou
didst form it and hast prompted it to praise thy name. Heal all my bones and
let them say, "O Lord, who is like unto thee?"[120]
It is
not that one who confesses to thee instructs thee as to what goes on within
him. For the closed heart does not bar thy sight into it, nor does the hardness
of our heart hold back thy hands, for thou canst soften it at will, either by
mercy or in vengeance, "and there is no one who can hide himself from thy
heat."[121]
But let my soul praise thee, that it may love
thee, and let it confess thy mercies to thee, that it may praise thee. Thy
whole creation praises thee without ceasing: the spirit of man, by his own
lips, by his own voice, lifted up to thee; animals and lifeless matter by the
mouths of those who meditate upon them. Thus our souls may climb out of their
weariness toward thee and lean on those things which thou hast created and pass
through them to thee, who didst create them in a marvelous way. With thee,
there is refreshment and true strength.
CHAPTER II
2. Let the restless and the unrighteous depart, and flee away from thee. Even
so, thou seest them and thy eye pierces through the shadows in which they run.
For lo, they live in a world of beauty and yet are themselves most foul. And
how have they harmed thee? Or in what way have they discredited thy power,
which is just and perfect in its rule even to the last item in creation?
Indeed, where would they fly when they fled from thy presence? Wouldst thou be
unable to find them? But they fled that they might not see thee, who sawest
them; that they might be blinded and stumble into thee. But thou forsakest
nothing that thou hast made. The unrighteous stumble against thee that they may
be justly plagued, fleeing from thy gentleness and colliding with thy justice,
and falling on their own rough paths. For in truth they do not know that thou
art everywhere; that no place contains thee, and that only thou art near even
to those who go farthest from thee. Let them, therefore, turn back and seek
thee, because even if they have abandoned thee, their Creator, thou hast not
abandoned thy creatures. Let them turn back and seek thee--and lo, thou art
there in their hearts, there in the hearts of those who confess to thee. Let
them cast themselves upon thee, and weep on thy bosom, after all their weary
wanderings; and thou wilt gently wipe away their tears.[122]
And they weep the more and rejoice in their weeping,
since thou, O Lord, art not a man of flesh and blood. Thou art the Lord, who
canst remake what thou didst make and canst comfort them. And where was I when
I was seeking thee? There thou wast, before me; but I had gone away, even from
myself, and I could not find myself, much less thee.
CHAPTER III
3. Let me now lay bare in the sight of God the twenty-ninth year of my age.
There had just come to Carthage a certain bishop of the Manicheans, Faustus by
name, a great snare of the devil; and many were entangled by him through the
charm of his eloquence. Now, even though I found this eloquence admirable, I
was beginning to distinguish the charm of words from the truth of things, which
I was eager to learn. Nor did I consider the dish as much as I did the kind of
meat that their famous Faustus served up to me in it. His fame had run before
him, as one very skilled in an honorable learning and pre-eminently skilled in
the liberal arts.
And as I had already read and stored up in memory many of the injunctions of
the philosophers, I began to compare some of their doctrines with the tedious
fables of the Manicheans; and it struck me that the probability was on the side
of the philosophers, whose power reached far enough to enable them to form a
fair judgment of the world, even though they had not discovered the sovereign
Lord of it all. For thou art great, O Lord, and thou hast respect unto the
lowly, but the proud thou knowest afar off.[123]
Thou
drawest near to none but the contrite in heart, and canst not be found by the
proud, even if in their inquisitive skill they may number the stars and the
sands, and map out the constellations, and trace the courses of the planets.
4. For it is by the mind and the intelligence which thou gavest them that they
investigate these things. They have discovered much; and have foretold, many
years in advance, the day, the hour, and the extent of the eclipses of those
luminaries, the sun and the moon. Their calculations did not fail, and it came
to pass as they predicted. And they wrote down the rules they had discovered,
so that to this day they may be read and from them may be calculated in what
year and month and day and hour of the day, and at what quarter of its light,
either the moon or the sun will be eclipsed, and it will come to pass just as
predicted. And men who are ignorant in these matters marvel and are amazed; and
those who understand them exult and are exalted. Both, by an impious pride,
withdraw from thee and forsake thy light. They foretell an eclipse of the sun
before it happens, but they do not see their own eclipse which is even now
occurring. For they do not ask, as religious men should, what is the source of
the intelligence by which they investigate these matters. Moreover, when they
discover that thou didst make them, they do not give themselves up to thee that
thou mightest preserve what thou hast made. Nor do they offer, as sacrifice to
thee, what they have made of themselves. For they do not slaughter their own
pride--as they do the sacrificial fowls--nor their own curiosities by which,
like the fishes of the sea, they wander through the unknown paths of the deep.
Nor do they curb their own extravagances as they do those of "the beasts of the
field,"[124]
so that thou, O Lord, "a consuming fire,"[125]
mayest burn up their mortal cares and renew them unto
immortality.
5. They do not know the way which is thy word, by which thou didst create all
the things that are and also the men who measure them, and the senses by which
they perceive what they measure, and the intelligence whereby they discern the
patterns of measure. Thus they know not that thy wisdom is not a matter of
measure.[126]
But the Only Begotten hath been "made unto
us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification"[127]
and
hath been numbered among us and paid tribute to Caesar.[128]
And they do not know this "Way" by which they could
descend from themselves to him in order to ascend through him to him. They did
not know this "Way," and so they fancied themselves exalted to the stars and
the shining heavens. And lo, they fell upon the earth, and "their foolish heart
was darkened."[129]
They saw many true things about the
creature but they do not seek with true piety for the Truth, the Architect of
Creation, and hence they do not find him. Or, if they do find him, and know
that he is God, they do not glorify him as God; neither are they thankful but
become vain in their imagination, and say that they themselves are wise, and
attribute to themselves what is thine. At the same time, with the most perverse
blindness, they wish to attribute to thee their own quality--so that they load
their lies on thee who art the Truth, "changing the glory of the incorruptible
God for an image of corruptible man, and birds, and four-footed beasts, and
creeping things."[130]
"They exchanged thy truth for a
lie, and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator."[131]
6. Yet I remembered many a true saying of the philosophers about the creation,
and I saw the confirmation of their calculations in the orderly sequence of
seasons and in the visible evidence of the stars. And I compared this with the
doctrines of Mani, who in his voluminous folly wrote many books on these
subjects. But I could not discover there any account, of either the solstices
or the equinoxes, or the eclipses of the sun and moon, or anything of the sort
that I had learned in the books of secular philosophy. But still I was ordered
to believe, even where the ideas did not correspond with--even when they
contradicted--the rational theories established by mathematics and my own eyes,
but were very different.
CHAPTER IV
7. Yet, O Lord God of Truth, is any man pleasing to thee because he knows these
things? No, for surely that man is unhappy who knows these things and does not
know thee. And that man is happy who knows thee, even though he does not know
these things. He who knows both thee and these things is not the more blessed
for his learning, for thou only art his blessing, if knowing thee as God he
glorifies thee and gives thanks and does not become vain in his thoughts.
For just as that man who knows how to possess a tree, and give thanks to thee
for the use of it--although he may not know how many feet high it is or how
wide it spreads--is better than the man who can measure it and count all its
branches, but neither owns it nor knows or loves its Creator: just so is a
faithful man who possesses the world's wealth as though he had nothing, and
possesses all things through his union through thee, whom all things serve,
even though he does not know the circlings of the Great Bear. Just so it is
foolish to doubt that this faithful man may truly be better than the one who
can measure the heavens and number the stars and weigh the elements, but who is
forgetful of thee "who hast set in order all things in number, weight, and
measure."[132]
CHAPTER V
8. And who ordered this Mani to write about these things, knowledge of which is
not necessary to piety? For thou hast said to man, "Behold, godliness is
wisdom"[133]
--and of this he might have been ignorant,
however perfectly he may have known these other things. Yet, since he did not
know even these other things, and most impudently dared to teach them, it is
clear that he had no knowledge of piety. For, even when we have a knowledge of
this worldly lore, it is folly to make a
profession
of it, when piety
comes from
confession
to thee. From piety, therefore, Mani had gone
astray, and all his show of learning only enabled the truly learned to
perceive, from his ignorance of what they knew, how little he was to be trusted
to make plain these more really difficult matters. For he did not aim to be
lightly esteemed, but went around trying to persuade men that the Holy Spirit,
the Comforter and Enricher of thy faithful ones, was personally resident in him
with full authority. And, therefore, when he was detected in manifest errors
about the sky, the stars, the movements of the sun and moon, even though these
things do not relate to religious doctrine, the impious presumption of the man
became clearly evident; for he not only taught things about which he was
ignorant but also perverted them, and this with pride so foolish and mad that
he sought to claim that his own utterances were as if they had been those of a
divine person.
9. When I hear of a Christian brother, ignorant of these things, or in error
concerning them, I can tolerate his uninformed opinion; and I do not see that
any lack of knowledge as to the form or nature of this material creation can do
him much harm, as long as he does not hold a belief in anything which is
unworthy of thee, O Lord, the Creator of all. But if he thinks that his secular
knowledge pertains to the essence of the doctrine of piety, or ventures to
assert dogmatic opinions in matters in which he is ignorant--there lies the
injury. And yet even a weakness such as this, in the infancy of our faith, is
tolerated by our Mother Charity until the new man can grow up "unto a perfect
man," and not be "carried away with every wind of doctrine."[134]
But Mani had presumed to be at once the teacher, author, guide, and leader of
all whom he could persuade to believe this, so that all who followed him
believed that they were following not an ordinary man but thy Holy Spirit. And
who would not judge that such great madness, when it once stood convicted of
false teaching, should then be abhorred and utterly rejected? But I had not yet
clearly decided whether the alternation of day and night, and of longer and
shorter days and nights, and the eclipses of sun and moon, and whatever else I
read about in other books could be explained consistently with his theories. If
they could have been so explained, there would still have remained a doubt in
my mind whether the theories were right or wrong. Yet I was prepared, on the
strength of his reputed godliness, to rest my faith on his authority.
CHAPTER VI
10. For almost the whole of the nine years that I listened with unsettled mind
to the Manichean teaching I had been looking forward with unbounded eagerness
to the arrival of this Faustus. For all the other members of the sect that I
happened to meet, when they were unable to answer the questions I raised,
always referred me to his coming. They promised that, in discussion with him,
these and even greater difficulties, if I had them, would be quite easily and
amply cleared away. When at last he did come, I found him to be a man of
pleasant speech, who spoke of the very same things they themselves did,
although more fluently and in a more agreeable style. But what profit was there
to me in the elegance of my cupbearer, since he could not offer me the more
precious draught for which I thirsted? My ears had already had their fill of
such stuff, and now it did not seem any better because it was better expressed
nor more true because it was dressed up in rhetoric; nor could I think the
man's soul necessarily wise because his face was comely and his language
eloquent. But they who extolled him to me were not competent judges. They
thought him able and wise because his eloquence delighted them. At the same
time I realized that there is another kind of man who is suspicious even of
truth itself, if it is expressed in smooth and flowing language. But thou, O my
God, hadst already taught me in wonderful and marvelous ways, and therefore I
believed--because it is true--that thou didst teach me and that beside thee
there is no other teacher of truth, wherever truth shines forth. Already I had
learned from thee that because a thing is eloquently expressed it should not be
taken to be as necessarily true; nor because it is uttered with stammering lips
should it be supposed false. Nor, again, is it necessarily true because rudely
uttered, nor untrue because the language is brilliant. Wisdom and folly both
are like meats that are wholesome and unwholesome, and courtly or simple words
are like town-made or rustic vessels--both kinds of food may be served in
either kind of dish.
11. That eagerness, therefore, with which I had so long awaited this man, was
in truth delighted with his action and feeling in a disputation, and with the
fluent and apt words with which he clothed his ideas. I was delighted,
therefore, and I joined with others--and even exceeded them--in exalting and
praising him. Yet it was a source of annoyance to me that, in his lecture room,
I was not allowed to introduce and raise any of those questions that troubled
me, in a familiar exchange of discussion with him. As soon as I found an
opportunity for this, and gained his ear at a time when it was not inconvenient
for him to enter into a discussion with me and my friends, I laid before him
some of my doubts. I discovered at once that he knew nothing of the liberal
arts except grammar, and that only in an ordinary way. He had, however, read
some of Tully's orations, a very few books of Seneca, and some of the poets,
and such few books of his own sect as were written in good Latin. With this
meager learning and his daily practice in speaking, he had acquired a sort of
eloquence which proved the more delightful and enticing because it was under
the direction of a ready wit and a sort of native grace. Was this not even as I
now recall it, O Lord my God, Judge of my conscience? My heart and my memory
are laid open before thee, who wast even then guiding me by the secret impulse
of thy providence and wast setting my shameful errors before my face so that I
might see and hate them.
CHAPTER VII
12. For as soon as it became plain to me that Faustus was ignorant in those
arts in which I had believed him eminent, I began to despair of his being able
to clarify and explain all these perplexities that troubled me--though I
realized that such ignorance need not have affected the authenticity of his
piety, if he had not been a Manichean. For their books are full of long fables
about the sky and the stars, the sun and the moon; and I had ceased to believe
him able to show me in any satisfactory fashion what I so ardently desired:
whether the explanations contained in the Manichean books were better or at
least as good as the mathematical explanations I had read elsewhere. But when I
proposed that these subjects should be considered and discussed, he quite
modestly did not dare to undertake the task, for he was aware that he had no
knowledge of these things and was not ashamed to confess it. For he was not one
of those talkative people--from whom I had endured so much--who undertook to
teach me what I wanted to know, and then said nothing. Faustus had a heart
which, if not right toward thee, was at least not altogether false toward
himself; for he was not ignorant of his own ignorance, and he did not choose to
be entangled in a controversy from which he could not draw back or retire
gracefully. For this I liked him all the more. For the modesty of an ingenious
mind is a finer thing than the acquisition of that knowledge I desired; and
this I found to be his attitude toward all abstruse and difficult questions.
13. Thus the zeal with which I had plunged into the Manichean system was
checked, and I despaired even more of their other teachers, because Faustus who
was so famous among them had turned out so poorly in the various matters that
puzzled me. And so I began to occupy myself with him in the study of his own
favorite pursuit, that of literature, in which I was already teaching a class
as a professor of rhetoric among the young Carthaginian students. With Faustus
then I read whatever he himself wished to read, or what I judged suitable to
his bent of mind. But all my endeavors to make further progress in Manicheism
came completely to an end through my acquaintance with that man. I did not
wholly separate myself from them, but as one who had not yet found anything
better I decided to content myself, for the time being, with what I had
stumbled upon one way or another, until by chance something more desirable
should present itself. Thus that Faustus who had entrapped so many to their
death--though neither willing nor witting it--now began to loosen the snare in
which I had been caught. For thy hands, O my God, in the hidden design of thy
providence did not desert my soul; and out of the blood of my mother's heart,
through the tears that she poured out by day and by night, there was a
sacrifice offered to thee for me, and by marvelous ways thou didst deal with
me. For it was thou, O my God, who didst it: for "the steps of a man are
ordered by the Lord, and he shall choose his way."[135]
How shall we attain salvation without thy hand remaking what it had already
made?
CHAPTER VIII
14. Thou didst so deal with me, therefore, that I was persuaded to go to Rome
and teach there what I had been teaching at Carthage. And how I was persuaded
to do this I will not omit to confess to thee, for in this also the profoundest
workings of thy wisdom and thy constant mercy toward us must be pondered and
acknowledged. I did not wish to go to Rome because of the richer fees and the
higher dignity which my friends promised me there--though these considerations
did affect my decision. My principal and almost sole motive was that I had been
informed that the students there studied more quietly and were better kept
under the control of stern discipline, so that they did not capriciously and
impudently rush into the classroom of a teacher not their own--indeed, they
were not admitted at all without the permission of the teacher. At Carthage, on
the contrary, there was a shameful and intemperate license among the students.
They burst in rudely and, with furious gestures, would disrupt the discipline
which the teacher had established for the good of his pupils. Many outrages
they perpetrated with astounding effrontery, things that would be punishable by
law if they were not sustained by custom. Thus custom makes plain that such
behavior is all the more worthless because it allows men to do what thy eternal
law never will allow. They think that they act thus with impunity, though the
very blindness with which they act is their punishment, and they suffer far
greater harm than they inflict.
The manners that I would not adopt as a student I was compelled as a teacher to
endure in others. And so I was glad to go where all who knew the situation
assured me that such conduct was not allowed. But thou, "O my refuge and my
portion in the land of the living,"[136]
didst goad me
thus at Carthage so that I might thereby be pulled away from it and change my
worldly habitation for the preservation of my soul. At the same time, thou
didst offer me at Rome an enticement, through the agency of men enchanted with
this death-in-life--by their insane conduct in the one place and their empty
promises in the other. To correct my wandering footsteps, thou didst secretly
employ their perversity and my own. For those who disturbed my tranquillity
were blinded by shameful madness and also those who allured me elsewhere had
nothing better than the earth's cunning. And I who hated actual misery in the
one place sought fictitious happiness in the other.
15. Thou knewest the cause of my going from one country to the other, O God,
but thou didst not disclose it either to me or to my mother, who grieved deeply
over my departure and followed me down to the sea. She clasped me tight in her
embrace, willing either to keep me back or to go with me, but I deceived her,
pretending that I had a friend whom I could not leave until he had a favorable
wind to set sail. Thus I lied to my mother--and such a mother!--and escaped.
For this too thou didst mercifully pardon me--fool that I was--and didst
preserve me from the waters of the sea for the water of thy grace; so that,
when I was purified by that, the fountain of my mother's eyes, from which she
had daily watered the ground for me as she prayed to thee, should be dried.
And, since she refused to return without me, I persuaded her, with some
difficulty, to remain that night in a place quite close to our ship, where
there was a shrine in memory of the blessed Cyprian. That night I slipped away
secretly, and she remained to pray and weep. And what was it, O Lord, that she
was asking of thee in such a flood of tears but that thou wouldst not allow me
to sail? But thou, taking thy own secret counsel and noting the real point to
her desire, didst not grant what she was then asking in order to grant to her
the thing that she had always been asking.
The wind blew and filled our sails, and the shore dropped out of sight. Wild
with grief, she was there the next morning and filled thy ears with complaints
and groans which thou didst disregard, although, at the very same time, thou
wast using my longings as a means and wast hastening me on to the fulfillment
of all longing. Thus the earthly part of her love to me was justly purged by
the scourge of sorrow. Still, like all mothers--though even more than
others--she loved to have me with her, and did not know what joy thou wast
preparing for her through my going away. Not knowing this secret end, she wept
and mourned and saw in her agony the inheritance of Eve--seeking in sorrow what
she had brought forth in sorrow. And yet, after accusing me of perfidy and
cruelty, she still continued her intercessions for me to thee. She returned to
her own home, and I went on to Rome.
CHAPTER IX
16. And lo, I was received in Rome by the scourge of bodily sickness; and I was
very near to falling into hell, burdened with all the many and grievous sins I
had committed against thee, myself, and others--all over and above that fetter
of original sin whereby we all die in Adam. For thou hadst forgiven me none of
these things in Christ, neither had he abolished by his cross the enmity[137]
that I had incurred from thee through my sins. For how
could he do so by the crucifixion of a phantom, which was all I supposed him to
be? The death of my soul was as real then as the death of his flesh appeared to
me unreal. And the life of my soul was as false, because it was as unreal as
the death of his flesh was real, though I believed it not.
My fever increased, and I was on the verge of passing away and perishing; for,
if I had passed away then, where should I have gone but into the fiery torment
which my misdeeds deserved, measured by the truth of thy rule? My mother knew
nothing of this; yet, far away, she went on praying for me. And thou, present
everywhere, didst hear her where she was and had pity on me where I was, so
that I regained my bodily health, although I was still disordered in my
sacrilegious heart. For that peril of death did not make me wish to be
baptized. I was even better when, as a lad, I entreated baptism of my mother's
devotion, as I have already related and confessed.[138]
But now I had since increased in dishonor, and I madly scoffed at all the
purposes of thy medicine which would not have allowed me, though a sinner such
as I was, to die a double death. Had my mother's heart been pierced with this
wound, it never could have been cured, for I cannot adequately tell of the love
she had for me, or how she still travailed for me in the spirit with a far
keener anguish than when she bore me in the flesh.
17. I cannot conceive, therefore, how she could have been healed if my death
(still in my sins) had pierced her inmost love. Where, then, would have been
all her earnest, frequent, and ceaseless prayers to thee? Nowhere but with
thee. But couldst thou, O most merciful God, despise the "contrite and humble
heart"[139]
of that pure and prudent widow, who was so
constant in her alms, so gracious and attentive to thy saints, never missing a
visit to church twice a day, morning and evening--and this not for vain
gossiping, nor old wives' fables, but in order that she might listen to thee in
thy sermons, and thou to her in her prayers? Couldst thou, by whose gifts she
was so inspired, despise and disregard the tears of such a one without coming
to her aid--those tears by which she entreated thee, not for gold or silver,
and not for any changing or fleeting good, but for the salvation of the soul of
her son? By no means, O Lord. It is certain that thou wast near and wast
hearing and wast carrying out the plan by which thou hadst predetermined it
should be done. Far be it from thee that thou shouldst have deluded her in
those visions and the answers she had received from thee--some of which I have
mentioned, and others not--which she kept in her faithful heart, and, forever
beseeching, urged them on thee as if they had thy own signature. For thou,
"because thy mercy endureth forever,"[140]
hast so
condescended to those whose debts thou hast pardoned that thou likewise dost
become a debtor by thy promises.
CHAPTER X
18. Thou didst restore me then from that illness, and didst heal the son of thy
handmaid in his body, that he might live for thee and that thou mightest endow
him with a better and more certain health. After this, at Rome, I again joined
those deluding and deluded "saints"; and not their "hearers" only, such as the
man was in whose house I had fallen sick, but also with those whom they called
"the elect." For it still seemed to me "that it is not we who sin, but some
other nature sinned in us." And it gratified my pride to be beyond blame, and
when
I
did anything wrong not to have to confess that
I
had done
wrong--"that thou mightest heal my soul because it had sinned against thee"[141]
--and I loved to excuse my soul and to accuse something
else inside me (I knew not what) but which was not I. But, assuredly, it was I,
and it was my impiety that had divided me against myself. That sin then was all
the more incurable because I did not deem myself a sinner. It was an execrable
iniquity, O God Omnipotent, that I would have preferred to have thee defeated
in me, to my destruction, than to be defeated by thee to my salvation. Not yet,
therefore, hadst thou set a watch upon my mouth and a door around my lips that
my heart might not incline to evil speech, to make excuse for sin with men that
work iniquity.[142]
And, therefore, I continued still in
the company of their "elect."
19. But now, hopeless of gaining any profit from that false doctrine, I began
to hold more loosely and negligently even to those points which I had decided
to rest content with, if I could find nothing better. I was now half inclined
to believe that those philosophers whom they call "The Academics"[143]
were wiser than the rest in holding that we ought to
doubt everything, and in maintaining that man does not have the power of
comprehending any certain truth, for, although I had not yet understood their
meaning, I was fully persuaded that they thought just as they are commonly
reputed to do. And I did not fail openly to dissuade my host from his
confidence which I observed that he had in those fictions of which the works of
Mani are full. For all this, I was still on terms of more intimate friendship
with these people than with others who were not of their heresy. I did not
indeed defend it with my former ardor; but my familiarity with that group--and
there were many of them concealed in Rome at that time[144]
--made me slower to seek any other way. This was
particularly easy since I had no hope of finding in thy Church the truth from
which they had turned me aside, O Lord of heaven and earth, Creator of all
things visible and invisible. And it still seemed to me most unseemly to
believe that thou couldst have the form of human flesh and be bounded by the
bodily shape of our limbs. And when I desired to meditate on my God, I did not
know what to think of but a huge extended body--for what did not have bodily
extension did not seem to me to exist--and this was the greatest and almost the
sole cause of my unavoidable errors.
20. And thus I also believed that evil was a similar kind of substance, and
that it had its own hideous and deformed extended body--either in a dense form
which they called the earth or in a thin and subtle form as, for example, the
substance of the air, which they imagined as some malignant spirit penetrating
that earth. And because my piety--such as it was--still compelled me to believe
that the good God never created any evil substance, I formed the idea of two
masses, one opposed to the other, both infinite but with the evil more
contracted and the good more expansive. And from this diseased beginning, the
other sacrileges followed after.
For when my mind tried to turn back to the Catholic faith, I was cast down,
since the Catholic faith was not what I judged it to be. And it seemed to me a
greater piety to regard thee, my God--to whom I make confession of thy
mercies--as infinite in all respects save that one: where the extended mass of
evil stood opposed to thee, where I was compelled to confess that thou art
finite--than if I should think that thou couldst be confined by the form of a
human body on every side. And it seemed better to me to believe that no evil
had been created by thee--for in my ignorance evil appeared not only to be some
kind of substance but a corporeal one at that. This was because I had, thus
far, no conception of mind, except as a subtle body diffused throughout local
spaces. This seemed better than to believe that anything could emanate from
thee which had the character that I considered evil to be in its nature. And I
believed that our Saviour himself also--thy Only Begotten--had been brought
forth, as it were, for our salvation out of the mass of thy bright shining
substance. So that I could believe nothing about him except what I was able to
harmonize with these vain imaginations. I thought, therefore, that such a
nature could not be born of the Virgin Mary without being mingled with the
flesh, and I could not see how the divine substance, as I had conceived it,
could be mingled thus without being contaminated. I was afraid, therefore, to
believe that he had been born in the flesh, lest I should also be compelled to
believe that he had been contaminated by the flesh. Now will thy spiritual ones
smile blandly and lovingly at me if they read these confessions. Yet such was I.
CHAPTER XI
21. Furthermore, the things they censured in thy Scriptures I thought
impossible to be defended. And yet, occasionally, I desired to confer on
various matters with someone well learned in those books, to test what he
thought of them. For already the words of one Elpidius, who spoke and disputed
face to face against these same Manicheans, had begun to impress me, even when
I was at Carthage; because he brought forth things out of the Scriptures that
were not easily withstood, to which their answers appeared to me feeble. One of
their answers they did not give forth publicly, but only to us in private--when
they said that the writings of the New Testament had been tampered with by
unknown persons who desired to ingraft the Jewish law into the Christian faith.
But they themselves never brought forward any uncorrupted copies. Still
thinking in corporeal categories and very much ensnared and to some extent
stifled, I was borne down by those conceptions of bodily substance. I panted
under this load for the air of thy truth, but I was not able to breathe it pure
and undefiled.
CHAPTER XII
22. I set about diligently to practice what I came to Rome to do--the teaching
of rhetoric. The first task was to bring together in my home a few people to
whom and through whom I had begun to be known. And lo, I then began to learn
that other offenses were committed in Rome which I had not had to bear in
Africa. Just as I had been told, those riotous disruptions by young blackguards
were not practiced here. Yet, now, my friends told me, many of the Roman
students--breakers of faith, who, for the love of money, set a small value on
justice--would conspire together and suddenly transfer to another teacher, to
evade paying their master's fees. My heart hated such people, though not with a
"perfect hatred"[145]
; for doubtless I hated them more
because I was to suffer from them than on account of their own illicit acts.
Still, such people are base indeed; they fornicate against thee, for they love
the transitory mockeries of temporal things and the filthy gain which begrimes
the hand that grabs it; they embrace the fleeting world and scorn thee, who
abidest and invitest us to return to thee and who pardonest the prostituted
human soul when it does return to thee. Now I hate such crooked and perverse
men, although I love them if they will be corrected and come to prefer the
learning they obtain to money and, above all, to prefer thee to such learning,
O God, the truth and fullness of our positive good, and our most pure peace.
But then the wish was stronger in me for my own sake not to suffer evil from
them than was my desire that they should become good for thy sake.
CHAPTER XIII
23. When, therefore, the officials of Milan sent to Rome, to the prefect of the
city, to ask that he provide them with a teacher of rhetoric for their city and
to send him at the public expense, I applied for the job through those same
persons, drunk with the Manichean vanities, to be freed from whom I was going
away--though neither they nor I were aware of it at the time. They recommended
that Symmachus, who was then prefect, after he had proved me by audition,
should appoint me.
And to Milan I came, to Ambrose the bishop, famed through the whole world as
one of the best of men, thy devoted servant. His eloquent discourse in those
times abundantly provided thy people with the flour of thy wheat, the gladness
of thy oil, and the sober intoxication of thy wine.[146]
To him I was led by thee without my knowledge, that by him I might be led to
thee in full knowledge. That man of God received me as a father would, and
welcomed my coming as a good bishop should. And I began to love him, of course,
not at the first as a teacher of the truth, for I had entirely despaired of
finding that in thy Church--but as a friendly man. And I studiously listened to
him--though not with the right motive--as he preached to the people. I was
trying to discover whether his eloquence came up to his reputation, and whether
it flowed fuller or thinner than others said it did. And thus I hung on his
words intently, but, as to his subject matter, I was only a careless and
contemptuous listener. I was delighted with the charm of his speech, which was
more erudite, though less cheerful and soothing, than Faustus' style. As for
subject matter, however, there could be no comparison, for the latter was
wandering around in Manichean deceptions, while the former was teaching
salvation most soundly. But "salvation is far from the wicked,"[147]
such as I was then when I stood before him. Yet I was
drawing nearer, gradually and unconsciously.
CHAPTER XIV
24. For, although I took no trouble to learn what he said, but only to hear how
he said it--for this empty concern remained foremost with me as long as I
despaired of finding a clear path from man to thee--yet, along with the
eloquence I prized, there also came into my mind the ideas which I ignored; for
I could not separate them. And, while I opened my heart to acknowledge how
skillfully he spoke, there also came an awareness of how
truly
he
spoke--but only gradually. First of all, his ideas had already begun to appear
to me defensible; and the Catholic faith, for which I supposed that nothing
could be said against the onslaught of the Manicheans, I now realized could be
maintained without presumption. This was especially clear after I had heard one
or two parts of the Old Testament explained allegorically--whereas before this,
when I had interpreted them literally, they had "killed" me spiritually.[148]
However, when many of these passages in those books
were expounded to me thus, I came to blame my own despair for having believed
that no reply could be given to those who hated and scoffed at the Law and the
Prophets. Yet I did not see that this was reason enough to follow the Catholic
way, just because it had learned advocates who could answer objections
adequately and without absurdity. Nor could I see that what I had held to
heretofore should now be condemned, because both sides were equally defensible.
For that way did not appear to me yet vanquished; but neither did it seem yet
victorious.
25. But now I earnestly bent my mind to require if there was possible any way
to prove the Manicheans guilty of falsehood. If I could have conceived of a
spiritual substance, all their strongholds would have collapsed and been cast
out of my mind. But I could not. Still, concerning the body of this world,
nature as a whole--now that I was able to consider and compare such things more
and more--I now decided that the majority of the philosophers held the more
probable views. So, in what I thought was the method of the Academics--doubting
everything and fluctuating between all the options--I came to the conclusion
that the Manicheans were to be abandoned. For I judged, even in that period of
doubt, that I could not remain in a sect to which I preferred some of the
philosophers. But I refused to commit the cure of my fainting soul to the
philosophers, because they were without the saving name of Christ. I resolved,
therefore, to become a catechumen in the Catholic Church--which my parents had
so much urged upon me--until something certain shone forth by which I might
guide my course.
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