Chapter II.—That the God Whom We Invoke is in Us, and We in Him.
Chapter III.—Everywhere God Wholly Filleth All Things, But Neither Heaven Nor Earth Containeth Him.
Chapter IV.—The Majesty of God is Supreme, and His Virtues Inexplicable.
Chapter V.—He Seeks Rest in God, and Pardon of His Sins.
Chapter VI.—He Describes His Infancy, and Lauds the Protection and Eternal Providence of God.
Chapter VII.—He Shows by Example that Even Infancy is Prone to Sin.
Chapter XIV.—Why He Despised Greek Literature, and Easily Learned Latin.
Chapter XVII.—He Continues on the Unhappy Method of Training Youth in Literary Subjects.
Chapter I.—He Deplores the Wickedness of His Youth.
Chapter VIII.—In His Theft He Loved the Company of His Fellow-Sinners.
Chapter IX.—It Was a Pleasure to Him Also to Laugh When Seriously Deceiving Others.
Chapter X.—With God There is True Rest and Life Unchanging.
Chapter VIII.—He Argues Against the Same as to the Reason of Offences.
Chapter IX.—That the Judgment of God and Men as to Human Acts of Violence, is Different.
Chapter X.—He Reproves the Triflings of the Manichæans as to the Fruits of the Earth.
Chapter V.—Why Weeping is Pleasant to the Wretched.
Chapter VI.—His Friend Being Snatched Away by Death, He Imagines that He Remains Only as Half.
Chapter VII.—Troubled by Restlessness and Grief, He Leaves His Country a Second Time for Carthage.
Chapter VIII.—That His Grief Ceased by Time, and the Consolation of Friends.
Chapter XIII.—Love Originates from Grace and Beauty Enticing Us.
Chapter XIV.—Concerning the Books Which He Wrote “On the Fair and Fit,” Dedicated to Hierius.
Chapter I.—That It Becomes the Soul to Praise God, and to Confess Unto Him.
Chapter II.—On the Vanity of Those Who Wished to Escape the Omnipotent God.
Chapter VI.—Faustus Was Indeed an Elegant Speaker, But Knew Nothing of the Liberal Sciences.
Chapter VIII.—He Sets Out for Rome, His Mother in Vain Lamenting It.
Chapter IX.—Being Attacked by Fever, He is in Great Danger.
Chapter XII.—Professing Rhetoric at Rome, He Discovers the Fraud of His Scholars.
Chapter XIII.—He is Sent to Milan, that He, About to Teach Rhetoric, May Be Known by Ambrose.
Chapter II.—She, on the Prohibition of Ambrose, Abstains from Honouring the Memory of the Martyrs.
Chapter VI.—On the Source and Cause of True Joy,—The Example of the Joyous Beggar Being Adduced.
Chapter XI.—Being Troubled by His Grievous Errors, He Meditates Entering on a New Life.
Chapter XII.—Discussion with Alypius Concerning a Life of Celibacy.
Chapter XIV.—The Design of Establishing a Common Household with His Friends is Speedily Hindered.
Chapter XV.—He Dismisses One Mistress, and Chooses Another.
Chapter III.—That the Cause of Evil is the Free Judgment of the Will.
Chapter IV.—That God is Not Corruptible, Who, If He Were, Would Not Be God at All.
Chapter VI.—He Refutes the Divinations of the Astrologers, Deduced from the Constellations.
Chapter VII.—He is Severely Exercised as to the Origin of Evil.
Chapter VIII.—By God’s Assistance He by Degrees Arrives at the Truth.
Chapter XI.—That Creatures are Mutable and God Alone Immutable.
Chapter XII.—Whatever Things the Good God Has Created are Very Good.
Chapter XV.—Whatever Is, Owes Its Being to God.
Chapter XVI.—Evil Arises Not from a Substance, But from the Perversion of the Will.
Chapter XVII.—Above His Changeable Mind, He Discovers the Unchangeable Author of Truth.
Chapter XVIII.—Jesus Christ, the Mediator, is the Only Way of Safety.
Chapter XIX.—He Does Not Yet Fully Understand the Saying of John, that “The Word Was Made Flesh.”
Chapter XX.—He Rejoices that He Proceeded from Plato to the Holy Scriptures, and Not the Reverse.
Chapter XXI.—What He Found in the Sacred Books Which are Not to Be Found in Plato.
Chapter V.—Of the Causes Which Alienate Us from God.
Chapter VI.—Pontitianus’ Account of Antony, the Founder of Monachism, and of Some Who Imitated Him.
Chapter IX.—That the Mind Commandeth the Mind, But It Willeth Not Entirely.
Chapter II.—As His Lungs Were Affected, He Meditates Withdrawing Himself from Public Favour.
Chapter VI.—He is Baptized at Milan with Alypius and His Son Adeodatus. The Book “De Magistro.”
Chapter X.—A Conversation He Had with His Mother Concerning the Kingdom of Heaven.
Chapter XI.—His Mother, Attacked by Fever, Dies at Ostia.
Chapter XII.—How He Mourned His Dead Mother.
Chapter XIII.—He Entreats God for Her Sins, and Admonishes His Readers to Remember Her Piously.
Chapter I.—In God Alone is the Hope and Joy of Man.
Chapter III.—He Who Confesseth Rightly Unto God Best Knoweth Himself.
Chapter IV.—That in His Confessions He May Do Good, He Considers Others.
Chapter V.—That Man Knoweth Not Himself Wholly.
Chapter VII.—That God is to Be Found Neither from the Powers of the Body Nor of the Soul.
Chapter VIII.——Of the Nature and the Amazing Power of Memory.
Chapter XI.—What It is to Learn and to Think.
Chapter XII.—On the Recollection of Things Mathematical.
Chapter XIII.—Memory Retains All Things.
Chapter XV.—In Memory There are Also Images of Things Which are Absent.
Chapter XVI.—The Privation of Memory is Forgetfulness.
Chapter XVII.—God Cannot Be Attained Unto by the Power of Memory, Which Beasts and Birds Possess.
Chapter XVIII.—A Thing When Lost Could Not Be Found Unless It Were Retained in the Memory.
Chapter XIX.—What It is to Remember.
Chapter XX.—We Should Not Seek for God and the Happy Life Unless We Had Known It.
Chapter XXI.—How a Happy Life May Be Retained in the Memory.
Chapter XXII.—A Happy Life is to Rejoice in God, and for God.
Chapter XXIII.—All Wish to Rejoice in the Truth.
Chapter XXIV.—He Who Finds Truth, Finds God.
Chapter XXV.—He is Glad that God Dwells in His Memory.
Chapter XXVI.—God Everywhere Answers Those Who Take Counsel of Him.
Chapter XXVII.—He Grieves that He Was So Long Without God.
Chapter XXVIII.—On the Misery of Human Life.
Chapter XXIX.—All Hope is in the Mercy of God.
Chapter XXX.—Of the Perverse Images of Dreams, Which He Wishes to Have Taken Away.
Chapter XXXII.—Of the Charms of Perfumes Which are More Easily Overcome.
Chapter XXXV.—Another Kind of Temptation is Curiosity, Which is Stimulated by the Lust of the Eyes.
Chapter XXXVI.—A Third Kind is “Pride” Which is Pleasing to Man, Not to God.
Chapter XXXVII.—He is Forcibly Goaded on by the Love of Praise.
Chapter XXXVIII.—Vain-Glory is the Highest Danger.
Chapter XXXIX.—Of the Vice of Those Who, While Pleasing Themselves, Displease God.
Chapter XL.—The Only Safe Resting-Place for the Soul is to Be Found in God.
Chapter XLI.—Having Conquered His Triple Desire, He Arrives at Salvation.
Chapter XLII.—In What Manner Many Sought the Mediator.
Chapter I.—By Confession He Desires to Stimulate Towards God His Own Love and That of His Readers.
Chapter II.—He Begs of God that Through the Holy Scriptures He May Be Led to Truth.
Chapter III.—He Begins from the Creation of the World—Not Understanding the Hebrew Text.
Chapter IV.—Heaven and Earth Cry Out that They Have Been Created by God.
Chapter V.—God Created the World Not from Any Certain Matter, But in His Own Word.
Chapter VI.—He Did Not, However, Create It by a Sounding and Passing Word.
Chapter VII.—By His Co-Eternal Word He Speaks, and All Things are Done.
Chapter IX.—Wisdom and the Beginning.
Chapter X.—The Rashness of Those Who Inquire What God Did Before He Created Heaven and Earth.
Chapter XII.—What God Did Before the Creation of the World.
Chapter XIII.—Before the Times Created by God, Times Were Not.
Chapter XIV.—Neither Time Past Nor Future, But the Present Only, Really is.
Chapter XV.—There is Only a Moment of Present Time.
Chapter XVI.—Time Can Only Be Perceived or Measured While It is Passing.
Chapter XVII.—Nevertheless There is Time Past and Future.
Chapter XVIII.—Past and Future Times Cannot Be Thought of But as Present.
Chapter XIX.—We are Ignorant in What Manner God Teaches Future Things.
Chapter XX.—In What Manner Time May Properly Be Designated.
Chapter XXI.—How Time May Be Measured.
Chapter XXII.—He Prays God that He Would Explain This Most Entangled Enigma.
Chapter XXIII.—That Time is a Certain Extension.
Chapter XXIV.—That Time is Not a Motion of a Body Which We Measure by Time.
Chapter XXV.—He Calls on God to Enlighten His Mind.
Chapter XXVI.—We Measure Longer Events by Shorter in Time.
Chapter XXVII.—Times are Measured in Proportion as They Pass by.
Chapter XXVIII.—Time in the Human Mind, Which Expects, Considers, and Remembers.
Chapter XXX.—Again He Refutes the Empty Question, “What Did God Before the Creation of the World?”
Chapter XXXI.—How the Knowledge of God Differs from that of Man.
Chapter I .—The Discovery of Truth is Difficult, But God Has Promised that He Who Seeks Shall Find.
Chapter II.—Of the Double Heaven,—The Visible, and the Heaven of Heavens.
Chapter III.—Of the Darkness Upon the Deep, and of the Invisible and Formless Earth.
Chapter IV.—From the Formlessness of Matter, the Beautiful World Has Arisen.
Chapter V.—What May Have Been the Form of Matter.
Chapter VI.—He Confesses that at One Time He Himself Thought Erroneously of Matter.
Chapter VII.—Out of Nothing God Made Heaven and Earth.
Chapter XI.—What May Be Discovered to Him by God.
Chapter XII.—From the Formless Earth God Created Another Heaven and a Visible and Formed Earth.
Chapter XIV.—Of the Depth of the Sacred Scripture, and Its Enemies.
Chapter XV.—He Argues Against Adversaries Concerning the Heaven of Heavens.
Chapter XVI.—He Wishes to Have No Intercourse with Those Who Deny Divine Truth.
Chapter XVII.—He Mentions Five Explanations of the Words of Genesis I. I.
Chapter XVIII.—What Error is Harmless in Sacred Scripture.
Chapter XIX.—He Enumerates the Things Concerning Which All Agree.
Chapter XX.—Of the Words, “In the Beginning,” Variously Understood.
Chapter XXI.—Of the Explanation of the Words, “The Earth Was Invisible.”
Chapter XXIII.—Two Kinds of Disagreements in the Books to Be Explained.
Chapter XXVI.—What He Might Have Asked of God Had He Been Enjoined to Write the Book of Genesis.
Chapter XXVII.—The Style of Speaking in the Book of Genesis is Simple and Clear.
Chapter XXIX.—Concerning the Opinion of Those Who Explain It “At First He Made.”
Chapter XXX.—In the Great Diversity of Opinions, It Becomes All to Unite Charity and Divine Truth.
Chapter XXXI.—Moses is Supposed to Have Perceived Whatever of Truth Can Be Discovered in His Words.
Chapter I.—He Calls Upon God, and Proposes to Himself to Worship Him.
Chapter II.—All Creatures Subsist from the Plenitude of Divine Goodness.
Chapter III.—Genesis I. 3,—Of “Light,”—He Understands as It is Seen in the Spiritual Creature.
Chapter V.—He Recognises the Trinity in the First Two Verses of Genesis.
Chapter VI.—Why the Holy Ghost Should Have Been Mentioned After the Mention of Heaven and Earth.
Chapter VII.—That the Holy Spirit Brings Us to God.
Chapter VIII.—That Nothing Whatever, Short of God, Can Yield to the Rational Creature a Happy Rest.
Chapter IX.—Why the Holy Spirit Was Only “Borne Over” The Waters.
Chapter X.—That Nothing Arose Save by the Gift of God.
Chapter XIII.—That the Renewal of Man is Not Completed in This World.
Chapter XV.—Allegorical Explanation of the Firmament and Upper Works, Ver. 6.
Chapter XVI.—That No One But the Unchangeable Light Knows Himself.
Chapter XVII.—Allegorical Explanation of the Sea and the Fruit-Bearing Earth—Verses 9 and 11.
Chapter XVIII.—Of the Lights and Stars of Heaven—Of Day and Night, Ver. 14.
Chapter XIX.—All Men Should Become Lights in the Firmament of Heaven.
Chapter XXII.—He Explains the Divine Image (Ver. 26) of the Renewal of the Mind.
Chapter XXIII.—That to Have Power Over All Things (Ver. 26) is to Judge Spiritually of All.
Chapter XXV.—He Explains the Fruits of the Earth (Ver. 29) of Works of Mercy.
Chapter XXXI.—We Do Not See “That It Was Good” But Through the Spirit of God Which is in Us.
Chapter XXXII.—Of the Particular Works of God, More Especially of Man.
Chapter XXXIII.—The World Was Created by God Out of Nothing.
Chapter XXXV.—He Prays God for that Peace of Rest Which Hath No Evening.
Chapter XXXVII.—Of Rest in God Who Ever Worketh, and Yet is Ever at Rest.
Chapter II.—In Public Spectacles He is Moved by an Empty Compassion. He is Attacked by a Troublesome Spiritual Disease.
2. Stage-plays also drew me away, full of representations of my miseries and of fuel to my fire.98 The early Fathers strongly reprobated stage-plays, and those who went to them were excluded from baptism. This is not to be wondered at, when we learn that “even the laws of Rome prohibited actors from being enrolled as citizens” (De Civ. Dei, ii. 14), and that they were accounted infamous (Tertullian, De Spectac. sec. xxii.). See also Tertullian, De Pudicitia, c. vii. Why does man like to be made sad when viewing doleful and tragical scenes, which yet he himself would by no means suffer? And yet he wishes, as a spectator, to experience from them a sense of grief, and in this very grief his pleasure consists. What is this but wretched insanity? For a man is more affected with these actions, the less free he is from such affections. Howsoever, when he suffers in his own person, it is the custom to style it “misery” but when he compassionates others, then it is styled “mercy.”99 See i. 9, note, above. But what kind of mercy is it that arises from fictitious and scenic passions? The hearer is not expected to relieve, but merely invited to grieve; and the more he grieves, the more he applauds the actor of these fictions. And if the misfortunes of the characters (whether of olden times or merely imaginary) be so represented as not to touch the feelings of the spectator, he goes away disgusted and censorious; but if his feelings be touched, he sits it out attentively, and sheds tears of joy.
3. Are sorrows, then, also loved? Surely all men desire to rejoice? Or, as man wishes to be miserable, is he, nevertheless, glad to be merciful, which, because it cannot exist without passion, for this cause alone are passions loved? This also is from that vein of friendship. But whither does it go? Whither does it flow? Wherefore runs it into that torrent of pitch,100 An allusion, probably, as Watts suggests, to the sea of Sodom, which, according to Tacitus (Hist. book v.), throws up bitumen “at stated seasons of the year.” Tacitus likewise alludes to its pestiferous odour, and to its being deadly to birds and fish. See also Gen. xiv. 3, 10. seething forth those huge tides of loathsome lusts into which it is changed and transformed, being of its own will cast away and corrupted from its celestial clearness? Shall, then, mercy be repudiated? By no means. Let us, therefore, love sorrows sometimes. But beware of uncleanness, O my soul, under the protection of my God, the God of our fathers, who is to be praised and exalted above all for ever,101 Song of the Three Holy Children, verse 3. beware of uncleanness. For I have not now ceased to have compassion; but then in the theatres I sympathized with lovers when they sinfully enjoyed one another, although this was done fictitiously in the play. And when they lost one another, I grieved with them, as if pitying them, and yet had delight in both. But now-a-days I feel much more pity for him that delighteth in his wickedness, than for him who is counted as enduring hardships by failing to obtain some pernicious pleasure, and the loss of some miserable felicity. This, surely, is the truer mercy, but grief hath no delight in it. For though he that condoles with the unhappy be approved for his office of charity, yet would he who had real compassion rather there were nothing for him to grieve about. For if goodwill be ill-willed (which it cannot), then can he who is truly and sincerely commiserating wish that there should be some unhappy ones, that he might commiserate them. Some grief may then be justified, none loved. For thus dost Thou, O Lord God, who lovest souls far more purely than do we, and art more incorruptibly compassionate, although Thou art wounded by no sorrow. “And who is sufficient for these things?”102 2 Cor. ii. 16.
4. But I, wretched one, then loved to grieve, and sought out what to grieve at, as when, in another man’s misery, though reigned and counterfeited, that delivery of the actor best pleased me, and attracted me the most powerfully, which moved me to tears. What marvel was it that an unhappy sheep, straying from Thy flock, and impatient of Thy care, I became infected with a foul disease? And hence came my love of griefs—not such as should probe me too deeply, for I loved not to suffer such things as I loved to look upon, but such as, when hearing their fictions, should lightly affect the surface; upon which, like as with empoisoned nails, followed burning, swelling, putrefaction, and horrible corruption. Such was my life! But was it life, O my God?
CAPUT II. Amavit spectacula tragica.
2. Rapiebant me spectacula theatrica, plena imaginibus miseriarum mearum, et fomitibus ignis mei. Quid est quod ibi homo vult dolere, cum spectat luctuosa atque tragica, quae tamen pati ipse nollet? Et tamen pati vult ex eis dolorem spectator, et dolor ipse est voluptas ejus. Quid est, nisi miserabilis insania ? Nam eo magis eis movetur quisque, quo minus a talibus affectibus sanus est: quanquam cum ipse patitur, miseria; cum aliis compatitur, misericordia dici solet. Sed qualis tandem misericordia in rebus fictis et scenicis? Non enim ad subveniendum provocatur auditor; sed tantum ad dolendum invitatur: et actori carum imaginum amplius favet, cum amplius dolet. Et si calamitates illae hominum vel antiquae vel falsae sic agantur, ut qui spectat non doleat; abscedit inde fastidiens et reprehendens: si autem doleat, manet intentus, et gaudens lacrymatur.
0684 3. Ergo amantur et dolores ? Certe omnis homo gaudere vult. An cum miserum neminem esse libeat, libet tamen esse misericordem; quod quia non sine dolore est, hac una causa amantur dolores? Et hoc de illa vena amicitiae est. Sed quo vadit? quo fluit? Utquid decurrit in torrentem picis bullientis aestus in manes tetrarum libidinum, in quos ipsa mutatur et vertitur per nutum proprium de coelesti serenitate detorta atque dejecta? Repudietur ergo misericordia? Nequaquam. Ergo amentur dolores aliquando. Sed cave immunditiam, anima mea, sub tutore Deo meo, Deo patrum nostrorum, et laudabili et superexaltato in omnia saecula (Dan. III, 32); cave immunditiam. Neque enim nunc non misereor; sed tunc in theatris congaudebam amantibus, cum sese fruebantur per flagitia, quamvis haec imaginarie gererent in ludo spectaculi. Cum autem sese amittebant, quasi misericors contristabar; et utrumque delectabat tamen. Nunc vero magis misereor gaudentem in flagitio, quam velut dura perpessum detrimento perniciosae voluptatis, et amissione miserae felicitatis. Haec certe verior misericordia; sed non in ea delectat dolor . Nam etsi approbatur officio charitatis qui dolet miserum; mallet tamen utique non esse quod doleret, qui germanitus misericors est. Si enim est malevola benevolentia, quod fieri non potest; potest et ille qui veraciter sinceriterque miseretur, cupere esse miseros ut misereatur. Nonnullus itaque dolor approbandus, nullus amandus est. Hoc enim tu, Domine Deus, qui animas amas, longe lateque purius quam nos, et incorruptibilius misereris, quod nullo dolore sauciaris. Et ad haec quis idoneus?
4. At ego tunc miser dolere amabam, et quaerebam ut esset quod dolerem, quando mihi in aerumna aliena, et falsa, et saltatoria, ea magis placebat actio histrionis, meque alliciebat vehementius, qua mihi lacrymae excutiebantur. Quid autem mirum cum infelix pecus aberrans a grege tuo, et impatiens custodiae tuae turpi scabie foedarer? Et inde erant dolorum amores, non quibus altius penetrarer; non enim amabam talia perpeti, qualia spectare; sed quibus auditis et fictis, tanquam in superficie raderer: quos tamen quasi ungues scalpentium fervidus tumor, et tabes, et sanies horrida consequebatur. Talis vita mea, numquid vita erat, Deus meus?