sickness unto health, after an excess, as it were, of a sharper fit, which doctors term the "crisis.' CHAP. II.—SHE, ON THE PROHIBITION OF AMBROSE, ABSTAINS. FROM HONOURING THE MEM ORY OF THE MARTYRS. 1 2. When, therefore, my mother had at one time—as was her custom in Africa-brought to the oratories built in the memory of the saints certain cakes, and bread, and wine, and was forbidden by the door-keeper, so soon as she learnt that it was the bishop who had forbidden it, she so piously and obediently acceded to it, that I myself marvelled how readily she could bring herself to accuse her own custom, rather than question his prohibition. For wine-bibbing did not take possession of her spirit, nor did the love of wine stimulate her to hatred of the truth, as it doth too many, both male and female, who nauseate at a song of sobriety, as men well drunk at a draught of water. But she, when she had brought her basket with the festive meats, of which she would taste herself first and give the rest away, would never allow herself more than one little cup of wine, diluted according to her own temperate palate, which, out of courtesy, she would taste. And if there were many oratories of departed saints that ought to be honoured in the same way, she still carried round 1 That is, as is explained further on in the section, the Martyrs. Tertullian gives us many indications of the veneration in which the martyrs were held towards the close of the second century. The anniversary of the martyr's death was called his natalitium, or natal day, as his martyrdom ushered him into eternal life, and obla tiones pro defunctis were then offered. (De Exhor. Cast. c. 11; De Coro. c. 3). Many extravagant things were said about the glory of martyrdom, with the view, doubtless, of preventing apostasy in time of persecution. It was described (De Bap. c. 16; and De Pat. c. 13) as a second baptism, and said to secure for a man immediate entrance into heaven, and complete enjoyment of its happiness. These views developed in Augustin's time into all the wildness of Donatism. Augustín gives us an insight into the customs prevailing in his day, and their significance, which greatly illustrates the present section. In his De Civ. Dei, viii. 27, we read: But, nevertheless, we do not build temples, and ordain priests, rites, and sacrifices for these same martyrs; for they are not our gods, but their God is our God. Certainly we honour their reliquaries, as the memorials of holy men of God, who strove for the truth even to the death of their bodies, that the true religion might be made known, and false and fictitious religions exposed. But who ever heard a priest of the faithful, standing at an altar built for the honour and worship of God over the holy body of some martyr, say in the prayers, I offer to thee a sacrifice, O Peter, or O Paul, or Ŏ Cyprian? For it is to God that sacrifices are offered at their tombs,-the God who made them both men and martyrs, and associated them with holy angels in celestial honour; and the reason why we pay such honours to their memory is, that by so doing we may both give thanks to the true God for their victories, and, by recalling them afresh to remembrance, may stir ourselves up to imitate them by seeking to obtain like crowns and palms, calling to our help that same God on whom they called. Therefore, whatever honours the religious may pay in the places of the martyrs, they are but honours rendered to their memory [ornamenta memoriarum], not sacred rites or sacrifices offered to dead men as to gods. And even such as bring thither food-which, indeed, is not done by the better Christians, and in most places of the world is not done at all-do so in order that it may be sanctified to them through the merits of the martyrs, in the name of the Lord of the martyrs, first presenting the food and offering prayer, and thereafter taking it away to be eaten, or to be in part bestowed upon the needy. But he who knows the one sacrifice of Christians, which is the sacrifice offered in those places, also knows that these are not sacrifices offered to the martyrs." He speaks to the same effect in Book xxii, sec. 10; and in his Reply to Faustus (xx. 21), who had charged the Christians with imitating the Pagans," and appeasing the shades' of the departed with wine and food." See v. sec. 17, note. with her the selfsame cup, to be used everywhere; and this, which was not only very much watered, but was also very tepid with carrying about, she would distribute by small sips to those around; for she sought their devotion, not pleasure. As soon, therefore, as she found this custom to be forbidden by that famous preacher and most pious prelate, even to those who would use it with moderation, lest thereby an occasion of excess might be given to such as were drunken, and because these, so to say, festivals in honour of the dead were very like unto the superstition of the Gentiles, she most willingly abstained from it. And in lieu of a basket filled with fruits of the earth, she had learned to bring to the oratories of the martyrs a heart full of more purified petitions, and to give all that she could to the poor; that so the communion of the Lord's body might be rightly celebrated there, where, after the example of His passion, the martyrs had been sacrificed and crowned. But yet it seems to me, O Lord my God, and thus my heart thinks of it in thy sight, that my mother perhaps would not so easily have given way to the relinquishment of this custom had it been forbidden by another whom she loved not as Ambrose, whom, out of regard for my salvation, she loved most dearly; and he loved her truly, on account of her most religious conversation, whereby, in good works so "fervent in spirit," she frequented the church; so that he would often, when he saw me, burst forth into her praises, congratulating me that I had such a mother-little knowing what a son she had in me, who was in doubt as to all these things, Following the example of Ambrose, Augustin used all his influence and eloquence to correct such shocking abuses in the churches. In his letter to Alypius, Bishop of Thagaste (when as yet only a presbyter assisting the venerable Valerius), he gives an account of his efforts to overcome them in the church of Hippo. The following passage is instructive (Ep. xxix. 9):-" I explained to them the circumstances out of which this custom seems to have necessarily risen in the Church, namely, that when, in the peace which came after such numerous and violent persecutions, crowds of heathen who wished to assume the Christian religion were kept back, because, having been accustomed to celebrate the feasts connected with their worship of idols in revelling and drunkenness, they could not easily refrain from pleasures so hurtful and so habitual, it had seemed good to our ancestors, making for the time a concession to this infirmity, to permit them to celebrate, instead of the festivals which they renounced, other feasts in honour of the holy martyrs, which were observed, not as before with a profane design, but with similar self-indulgence." 8 See v. sec. 17, note 5, above. 4 On another occasion, when Monica's mind was exercised as to non-essentials, Ambrose gave her advice which has perhaps given origin to the proverb, "When at Rome, do as Rome does." It will be found in the letter to Casulanus (Ep. xxxvi. 32), and is as follows:-"When my mother was with me in that city, I, as being only a catechumen, felt no concern about these questions; but it was to her a question causing anxiety, whether she ought, after the custom of our own town, to fast on the Saturday, or, after the custom of the church of Milan, not to fast. To deliver her from perplexity, I put the question to the man of God whom I have first named. He answered, What else can I recommend to others than what I do myself? When I thought that by this he intended simply to prescribe to us that we should take food on Saturdays, for I knew this to be his own practice,-he, following me, added these words: When I am here I do not fast on Saturday, but when I am at Rome I do; whatever church you may come to, conform to its custom, if you would avoid either receiving or giving offence.'" We find the same incident referred to in Ep. liv. 3. 6 Rom. xii. 11. and did not imagine the way of life could be that, his time being thus occupied, he could not found out. CHAP. III.—AS AMBROSE WAS OCCUPIED WITH SCRIPTURES. 3. Nor did I now groan in my prayers that Thou wouldest help me; but my mind was wholly intent on knowledge, and eager to dispute. And Ambrose himself I esteemed a happy man, as the world counted happiness, in that such great personages held him in honour; only his celibacy appeared to me a painful thing. But what hope he cherished, what struggles he had against the temptations that beset his very excellences, what solace in adversities, and what savoury joys Thy bread possessed for the hidden mouth of his heart when ruminating' on it, I could neither conjecture, nor had I experienced. Nor did he know my embarrassments, nor the pit of my danger. For I could not request of him what I wished as I wished, in that I was debarred from hearing and speaking to him by crowds of busy people, whose infirmities he devoted himself to. With whom when he was not engaged (which was but a little time), he either was refreshing his body with necessary sustenance, or his mind with reading. But while reading, his eyes glanced over the pages, and his heart searched out the sense, but his voice and tongue were silent. Ofttimes, when we had come (for no one was forbidden to enter, nor was it his custom that the arrival of those who came should be announced to him), we saw him thus reading to himself, and never otherwise; and, having long sat in silence (for who durst interrupt one so intent?), we were fain to depart, inferring that in the little time he secured for the recruiting of his mind, free from the clamour of other men's business, he was unwilling to be taken off. And perchance he was fearful lest, if the author he studied should express aught vaguely, some doubtful and attentive hearer should ask him to expound it, or to discuss some of the more abstruse questions, as 1 In his Reply to Faustus (vi. 7), he, conformably with this idea, explains the division into clean and unclean beasts under the Levitical law symbolically. "No doubt," he says, "the animal is pronounced unclean by the law because it does not chew the cud, which is not a fault, but its nature. But the men of whom this animal is a symbol are unclean, not by nature, but from their own fault; because, though they gladly hear the words of wisdom, they never reflect on them afterwards. For to recall, in quiet repose, some useful instruction from the stomach of memory to the mouth of reflection, is a kind of spiritual rumination. The animals above mentioned are a symbol of those people who do not do this. And the prohibition of the flesh of these animals is a warning against this fault. Another passage of Scripture (Prov. xxi, 20) speaks of the precious treasure of wisdom, and describes ruminating as clean, and not ruminating as unclean: A precious treasure resteth in the mouth of a wise man, but a foolish man swallows it up.' Symbols of this kind, either in words or in things, give useful and pleasant exercise to intelligent minds in the way of inquiry and comparison." turn over as many volumes as he wished; although the preservation of his voice, which was very easily weakened, might be the truer reason for his reading to himself. But whatever was his motive in so doing, doubtless in such a man was a good one. 4. But verily no opportunity could I find of ascertaining what I desired from that Thy so holy oracle, his breast, unless the thing might be entered into briefly. But those surgings in me required to find him at full leisure, that I might pour them out to him, but never were they able to find him so; and I heard him, indeed, every Lord's day, "rightly dividing the word of truth" among the people; and I was all the more convinced that all those knots of crafty calumnies, which those deceivers of ours had knit against the divine books, could be unravelled. But so soon as I understood, withal, that man made "after the image of Him that created him "3 was not so understood by Thy spiritual sons (whom of the Catholic mother Thou hadst begotten again through grace), as though they believed and imagined Thee to be bounded by human form,—although what was the nature of a spiritual substance* I had not the faintest or dimmest suspicion,-yet rejoicing, I blushed that for so many years I had barked, not against the Catholic faith, but against the fables of carnal imaginations. For I had been both impious and rash in this, that what I ought inquiring to have learnt, I had pronounced on condemning. For Thou, O most high and most near, most secret, yet most present, who hast not limbs some larger some smaller, but art wholly everywhere, and nowhere in space, nor art Thou of such corporeal form, yet hast Thou created man after Thine own image, and, behold, from head to foot is he confined by space. CHAP. IV.HE RECOGNISES THE FALSITY OF HIS 5. As, then, I knew not how this image of Thine should subsist, I should have knocked and propounded the doubt how it was to be believed, and not have insultingly opposed it, as if it were believed. Anxiety, therefore, as to what to retain as certain, did all the more sharply gnaw into my soul, the more shame I felt that, having been so long deluded and de 22 Tim. ii. 15. 3 Col. iii. 1o, and Gen. i. 26, 27. And because we are created in the image of God, Augustin argues (Serm. lxxxviii. 6), we have the ability to see and know Him, just as, having eyes to see, we can look upon the sun. And hereafter, too (Ep. xcir: 3), "We shall see Him according to the measure in which we shall be like Him; because now the measure in which we do not see Him is according to the measure of our unlikeness to Him, 4 See iii. sec. 12, note, above. ceived by the promise of certainties, I had, with veil, he spiritually laid open that which, accepted puerile error and petulance, prated of so many according to the "letter," seemed to teach uncertainties as if they were certainties. For perverse doctrines-teaching herein nothing that they were falsehoods became apparent to that offended me, though he taught such things me afterwards. However, I was certain that as I knew not as yet whether they were true. they were uncertain, and that I had formerly For all this time I restrained my heart from held them as certain when with a blind conten- assenting to anything, fearing to fall headlong; tiousness I accused Thy Catholic Church, which but by hanging in suspense I was the worse though I had not yet discovered to teach truly, killed. For my desire was to be as well yet not to teach that of which I had so vehe-assured of those things that I saw not, as I was mently accused her. In this manner was I con- that seven and three are ten. For I was not so founded and converted, and I rejoiced, O my insane as to believe that this could not be comGod, that the one Church, the body of Thine prehended; but I desired to have other things only Son (wherein the name of Christ had been as clear as this, whether corporeal things, which set upon me when an infant), did not appre- were not present to my senses, or spiritual, ciate these infantile trifles, nor maintained, in her whereof I knew not how to conceive except sound doctrine, any tenet that would confine corporeally. And by believing I might have Thee, the Creator of all, in space-though ever been cured, that so the sight of my soul being so great and wide, yet bounded on all sides by cleared, it might in some way be directed the restraints of a human form. towards Thy truth, which abideth always, and faileth in naught. But as it happens that he who has tried a bad physician fears to trust himself with a good one, so was it with the health of my soul, which could not be healed but by believing, and, lest it should believe falsehoods, refused to be cured-resisting Thy hands, who hast prepared for us the medicaments of faith, and hast applied them to the maladies of the whole world, and hast bestowed upon them so great authority. 6. I rejoiced also that the old Scriptures of the law and the prophets were laid before me, to be perused, not now with that eye to which they seemed most absurd before, when I censured Thy holy ones for so thinking, whereas in truth they thought not so; and with delight I heard Ambrose, in his sermons to the people, oftentimes most diligently recommend this text as a rule," The letter killeth, but the Spirit giveth life;" whilst, drawing aside the mystic 1 2 Cor. iii. 6. The spiritual or allegorical meaning here referred to is one that Augustin constantly sought, as did many of the early Fathers, both Greek and Latin. He only employs this method of interpretation, however, in a qualified way-never going to the lengths of Origen or Clement of Alexandria. He does not depreciate the letter of Scripture, though, as we have shown above (iii. sec. 14, note), he went as far as he well could in interpreting the history spiritually. He does not seem, however, quite consistent in his statements as to the relative prominence to be given to the literal and spiritual meanings, as may be seen by a comparison of the latter portions of secs. 1 and 3 of book xvii, of the City of God. His general idea may be gathered from the following passage in the 21st sec. of book xiii. :-"Some allegorize all that concerns paradise itself, where the first men, the parents of the human race, are, according to the truth of Holy Scripture, recorded to have been; and they understand all its trees and fruit-bearing plants as virtues and habits of life, as if they had no existence in the external world, but were only so spoken of or related for the sake of spiritual meanings. As if there could not be a real terrestrial paradise! As if there never existed these two women, Sarah and Hagar, nor the two sons who were born to Abraham, the one of the bond-woman, the other of the free, because the apostle says that in them the two covenants were prefigured! or as if water never flowed from the rock when Moses struck it, because therein Christ can be seen in a figure, as the same apostle says:Now that rock was Christ' (1 Cor. x. 4). These and similar allegorical interpretations may be suitably put upon paradise without giving offence to any one, while yet we believe the strict truth of the history, confirmed by its circumstantial narrative of facts." The allusion in the above passage to Sarah and Hagar invites the remark, that in Galatians iv. 24, the words in our version rendered, "which things are an allegory," should be, which things are such as may be allegorized." [Ariva éσtiv anуopovμeva. See Jelf, 398, sec. 2.] It is important to note this, as the passage has been quoted in support of the more extreme method of allegorizing, though it could clearly go no further than to sanction allegorizing by way of spiritual meditation upon Scripture, and not in the interpretation of it-which first, as Waterland thinks (Works, vol. v. p. 311), was the end contemplated by most of the Fathers. Thoughtful students of Scripture will feel that we have no right to make historical facts typical or allegorical, unless (as in the case of the manna, the brazen serpent, Jacob's ladder, etc.) we have divine authority for so doing; and few such will dissent from the opinion of Bishop Marsh (Lecture vi.) that the type must not only resemble the antitype, but must have been designed to resemble it, and further, that we must have the authority of Scripture for the existence of such design. The CHAP. V.-FAITH IS THE BASIS OF HUMAN LIFE; 7. From this, however, being led to prefer the Catholic doctrine, I felt that it was with more moderation and honesty that it commanded things to be believed that were not demonstrated text, "The letter killeth, but the Spirit giveth life," as a perusal of 2 Augustin frequently dilates on this idea. In sermon 88 (cc. 5, 6, etc.), he makes the whole of the ministries of religion subservient to the clearing of the inner eye of the soul; and in his De Trin. i. 3, he says: "And it is necessary to purge our minds, in order to be able to see ineffably that which is ineffable [i. e. the Godhead], whereto not having yet attained, we are to be nourished by faith, and led by such ways as are more suited to our capacity, that we may be rendered apt and able to comprehend it.” (whether it was that they could be demon-wring the belief from me that Thou art,-whatstrated, but not to any one, or could not be soever Thou wert, though what I knew not,-or demonstrated at all), than was the method of that the government of human affairs belongs the Manichæans, where our credulity was to Thee. mocked by audacious promise of knowledge, 8. Thus much I believed, at one time more and then so many most fabulous and absurd strongly than another, yet did I ever believe things were forced upon belief because they both that Thou wert, and hadst a care of us, were not capable of demonstration.1 After although I was ignorant both what was to be that, O Lord, Thou, by little and little, with thought of Thy substance, and what way led, or most gentle and most merciful hand, drawing led back to Thee. Seeing, then, that we were and calming my heart, didst persuade me,- too weak by unaided reason to find out the taking into consideration what a multiplicity of truth, and for this cause needed the authority things which I had never seen, nor was present of the holy writings, I had now begun to believe when they were enacted, like so many of the that Thou wouldest by no means have given things in secular history, and so many accounts such excellency of authority to those Scriptures of places and cities which I had not seen; so throughout all lands, had it not been Thy will many of friends, so many of physicians, so many thereby to be believed in, and thereby sought. now of these men, now of those, which unless For now those things which heretofore appeared we should believe, we should do nothing at all incongruous to me in the Scripture, and used in this life; lastly, with how unalterable an to offend me, having heard divers of them exassurance I believed of what parents I was born, pounded reasonably, I referred to the depth of which it would have been impossible for me to the mysteries, and its authority seemed to me know otherwise than by hearsay,-taking into all the more venerable and worthy of religious consideration all this, Thou persuadest me that belief, in that, while it was visible for all to not they who believed Thy books (which, with read it, it reserved the majesty of its secret3 so great authority, Thou hast established among within its profound significance, stooping to all nearly all nations), but those who believed them in the great plainness of its language and lowlinot were to be blamed; and that those men ness of its style, yet exercising the application were not to be listened unto who should say to of such as are not light of heart; that it might me, "How dost thou know that those Script- receive all into its common bosom, and through ures were imparted unto mankind by the Spirit narrow passages waft over some few towards of the one true and most true God?" For Thee, yet many more than if it did not stand it was the same thing that was most of all to be upon such a height of authority, nor allured believed, since no wranglings of blasphemous multitudes within its bosom by its holy humilquestions, whereof I had read so many amongst ity. These things I meditated upon, and Thou the self-contradicting philosophers, could once wert with me; I sighed, and Thou heardest me; I vacillated, and Thou didst guide me; I roamed through the broad way of the world, and Thou didst not desert me. 1 He similarly exalts the claims of the Christian Church over Manichæanism in his Reply to Faustus (xxxii. 19): "If you submit to receive a load of endless fictions at the bidding of an obscure and irrational authority, so that you believe all those things because they are written in the books which your misguided judgment pronounces trustworthy, though there is no evidence of their truth, why not rather submit to the evidence of the gospel, which is so wellfounded, so confirmed, so generally acknowledged and admired, and which has an unbroken series of testimonies from the apostles down to our own day, that so you may have an intelligent belief, and may come to know that all your objections are the fruit of folly and perversity?" And again, in his Reply to Manichæus' Funda mental Epistle (sec. 18), alluding to the credulity required in those who accept Manichæan teaching on the mere authority of the teacher: "Whoever thoughtlessly yields this becomes a Manichaan, not by knowing undoubted truth, but by believing doubtful statements. Such were we when in our inexperienced youth we were deceived." CHAP. VI.-ON THE SOURCE AND CAUSE OF TRUE 9. I longed for honours, gains, wedlock; and Thou mockedst me. In these desires I underwent most bitter hardships, Thou being the more gracious the less Thou didst suffer anything which was not Thou to grow sweet to me. Behold my heart, O Lord, who wouldest Thee. Now let my soul cleave to Thee, which Thou hast freed from that fast-holding bird-lime of death. How wretched was it! And Thou didst irritate the feeling of its wound, that, for 2 He has a like train of thought in another place (De Fide Rer. quæ non Vid. sec. 4) : " If, then (harmony being destroyed), human that I should recall all this, and confess unto society itself would not stand if we believe not that we see not, how much more should we have faith in divine things, though we see them not; which if we have it not, we do not violate the friendship of a few men, but the profoundest religion-so as to have as its consequence the profoundest misery." Again, referring to belief in Scripture, he argues (Con. Faust. xxxiii. 6) that, if we doubt its evidence, we may equally doubt that of any book, and asks, "How do we know the authorship of the works of Plato, Aristotle, Cicero, saking all else, it might be converted unto Thee, Varro, and other similar writers, but by the unbroken chain of evidence?" And once more he contends (De Mor. Cath. Eccles.-who art above all, and without whom all things xxix. 60) that, "The utter overthrow of all literature will follow, would be naught,-be converted and be healed. if and there will be an end to all books handed down from the past, what is supported by such a strong popular belief, and established by the uniform testimony of so many men and so many times, is brought into such suspicion that it is not allowed to have the credit and the authority of common history." How wretched was I at that time, and how didst Thou deal with me, to make me sensible of my wretchedness on that day wherein I was preparing to recite a panegyric on the Emperor,' wherein I was to deliver many a lie, and lying was to be applauded by those who knew I lied; and my heart panted with these cares, and boiled over with the feverishness of consuming thoughts. For, while walking along one of the streets of Milan, I observed a poor mendicant,-then, I imagine, with a full belly,-joking and joyous; and I sighed, and spake to the friends around me of the many sorrows resulting from our madness, for that by all such exertions of ours, -as those wherein I then laboured, dragging along, under the spur of desires, the burden of my own unhappiness, and by dragging increasing it,we yet aimed only to attain that very joyousness which that mendicant had reached before us, who, perchance, never would attain it! For what he had obtained through a few begged pence, the same was I scheming for by many a wretched and tortuous turning, the joy of a temporary felicity. For he verily possessed not true joy, but yet I, with these my ambitions, was seeking one much more untrue. And in truth he was joyous, I anxious; he free from care, I full of alarms. But should any one inquire of me whether I would rather be merry or fearful, I would reply, Merry. Again, were I asked whether I would rather be such as he was, or as I myself then was, I should elect to be myself, though beset with cares and alarms, but out of perversity; for was it so in truth? For I ought not to prefer myself to him because I happened to be more learned than he, seeing that I took no delight therein, but sought rather to please men by it; and that not to instruct, but only to please. Wherefore also didst Thou break my bones with the rod of Thy correction." know it is so, and that the joy of a faithful hope is incomparably beyond such vanity. Yea, and at that time was he beyond me, for he truly was the happier man; not only for that he was thoroughly steeped in mirth, I torn to pieces with cares, but he, by giving good wishes, had gotten wine, I, by lying, was following after pride. Much to this effect said I then to my dear friends, and I often marked in them how it fared with me; and I found that it went ill with me, and fretted, and doubled that very ill. And if any prosperity smiled upon me, I loathed to seize it, for almost before I could grasp it it flew away. CHAP. VII.-HE LEADS TO REFORMATION HIS FRIEND ALYPIUS, SEIZED WITH MADNESS FOR together, jointly deplored, but chiefly and most 1. For he had studied under me, first, when I taught in our own town, and afterwards at Carthage, and esteemed me highly, because I appeared to him good and learned; and I esteemed him for his innate love of virtue, which, in one the vortex of Carthaginian customs (amongst of no great age, was sufficiently eminent. But whom these frivolous spectacles are hotly followed) had inveigled him into the madness of the Circensian games. But while he was miserably tossed about therein, I was professing rhetoric there, and had a public school. As yet he did not give ear to my teaching, on acme and his father. I had then found how fatally count of some ill-feeling that had arisen between that he seemed likely-if, indeed, he had not he doted upon the circus, and was deeply grieved already done so-to cast away his so great by a sort of restraint reclaiming him, either by promise. Yet had I no means of advising, or the kindness of a friend or by the authority of towards me were the same as his father's; but he was not such. Disregarding, therefore, his father's will in that matter, he commenced to salute me, and, coming into my lecture-room, to listen for a little and depart. 10. Away with those, then, from my soul, who say unto it," It makes a difference from whence a man's joy is derived. That mendicant rejoiced in drunkenness; thou longedst to rejoice in glory." What glory, O Lord? That which is not in Thee. For even as his was no true joy, so was mine no true glory; and it sub- a master. For I imagined that his sentiments verted my soul more. He would digest his drunkenness that same night, but many a night had I slept with mine, and risen again with it, and was to sleep again and again to rise with it, I know not how oft. It does indeed "make a 12. But it slipped my memory to deal with difference whence a man's joy is derived." I him, so that he should not, through a blind and 1 In the Benedictine edition it is suggested that this was probably headstrong desire of empty pastimes, undo so Valentinian the younger, whose court was, according to Possidius great a wit. But Thou, O Lord, who governest (c. i.), at Milan when Augustin was professor of rhetoric there, who writes (Con. Litt. Petil. i. 25) that he in that city recited a pane- the helm of all Thou hast created, hadst not gyric to Bauto, the consul, on the first of January, according to the forgotten him, who was one day to be amongst Thy sons, the President of Thy sacrament;' requirements of his profession of rhetoric." Prov. xxii. 15. Here, as elsewhere, we have the feeling which finds its expression in i. sec. 1, above: "Thou hast formed us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find rest in Thee." 4 Compare v. sec. 17, note, above, and sec. 15, note, below. |