Writings of Augustine. On the Trinity, De Trinitate
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The Fifteen Books of Aurelius Augustinus, Bishop of Hippo,
on the Trinity, de Trinitate
Translated by the Rev. Arthur West Haddan, B.D.,
Hon. Canon of Worchester, and Rector of Barton-on-the-Heath,
Warwickshire.
Published in 1886 by Philip Schaff,
New York: Christian Literature Publishing Co.
.
Book VIII.
Explains and proves that not only the Father is not greater than the
Son, but neither are both together anything greater than the Holy
Spirit, nor any two together in the same trinity anything greater than
one, nor all three together anything greater than each severally. It
is then shown how the nature itself of God may be understood from our
understanding of truth, and from our knowledge of the supreme good,
and from the innate love of righteousness, whereby a righteous soul is
loved even by a soul that is itself not yet righteous. But it is urged
above all, that the knowledge of God is to be sought by love, which
God is said to be in the Scriptures; and in this love is also pointed
out the existence of some trace of a trinity.
Preface.--The Conclusion of What Has Been Said Above. The Rule to Be
Observed in the More Difficult Questions of the Faith.
We have said elsewhere that those things are predicated specially in
the Trinity as belonging severally to each person, which are
predicated relatively the one to the other, as Father and Son, and the
gift of both, the Holy Spirit; for the Father is not the Trinity, nor
the Son the Trinity, nor the gift the Trinity: but what whenever each
is singly spoken of in respect to themselves, then they are not spoken
of as three in the plural number, but one, the Trinity itself, as the
Father God, the Son God, and the Holy Spirit God; the Father good, the
Son good, and the Holy Spirit good; and the Father omnipotent, the Son
omnipotent, and the Holy Spirit omnipotent: yet neither three Gods,
nor three goods, nor three omnipotents, but one God, good, omnipotent,
the Trinity itself; and whatsoever else is said of them not relatively
in respect to each other, but individually in respect to themselves.
For they are thus spoken of according to essence, since in them to be
is the same as to be great, as to be good, as to be wise, and whatever
else is said of each person individually therein, or of the Trinity
itself, in respect to themselves. And that therefore they are called
three persons, or three substances, not in order that any difference
of essence may be understood, but that we may be able to answer by
some one word, should any one ask what three, or what three things?
And that there is so great an equality in that Trinity, that not only
the Father is not greater than the Son, as regards divinity, but
neither are the Father and Son together greater than the Holy Spirit;
nor is each individual person, whichever it be of the three, less than
the Trinity itself. This is what we have said; and if it is handled
and repeated frequently, it becomes, no doubt, more familiarly known:
yet some limit, too, must be put to the discussion, and we must
supplicate God with most devout piety, that He will open our
understanding, and take away the inclination of disputing, in order
that our minds may discern the essence of the truth, that has neither
bulk nor moveableness. Now, therefore, so far as the Creator Himself
aids us in His marvellous mercy, let us consider these subjects, into
which we will enter more deeply than we entered into those which
preceded, although they are in truth the same; preserving the while
this rule, that what has not yet been made clear to our intellect, be
nevertheless not loosened from the firmness of our faith.
Chapter 1.--It is Shown by Reason that in God Three are Not Anything
Greater Than One Person.
2. For we say that in this Trinity two or three persons are not
anything greater than one of them; which carnal perception does not
receive, for no other reason except because it perceives as it can the
true things which are created, but cannot discern the truth itself by
which they are created; for if it could, then the very corporeal light
would in no way be more clear than this which we have said. For in
respect to the substance of truth, since it alone truly is, nothing is
greater, unless because it more truly is. [662] But in respect to
whatsoever is intelligible and unchangeable, no one thing is more
truly than another, since all alike are unchangeably eternal; and that
which therein is called great, is not great from any other source than
from that by which it truly is. Wherefore, where magnitude itself is
truth, whatsoever has more of magnitude must needs have more of truth;
whatsoever therefore has not more of truth, has not also more of
magnitude. Further, whatsoever has more of truth is certainly more
true, just as that is greater which has more of magnitude; therefore
in respect to the substance of truth that is more great which is more
true. But the Father and the Son together are not more truly than the
Father singly, or the Son singly. Both together, therefore, are not
anything greater than each of them singly. And since also the Holy
Spirit equally is truly, the Father and Son together are not anything
greater than He, since neither are they more truly. The Father also
and the Holy Spirit together, since they do not surpass the Son in
truth (for they are not more truly), do not surpass Him either in
magnitude. And so the Son and the Holy Spirit together are just as
great as the Father alone, since they are as truly. So also the
Trinity itself is as great as each several person therein. For where
truth itself is magnitude, that is not more great which is not more
true: since in regard to the essence of truth, to be true is the same
as to be, and to be is the same as to be great; therefore to be great
is the same as to be true. And in regard to it, therefore, what is
equally true must needs also be equally great.
Footnotes
[662] [In this and the following chapter, the meaning of Augustin will
be clearer, if the Latin "veritas," "vera," and "vere," are rendered
occasionally, by "reality," "real," and "really." He is endeavoring to
prove the equality of the three persons, by the fact that they are
equally real (true), and the degree of their reality (truth) is the
same. Real being is true being; reality is truth. In common
phraseology, truth and reality are synonymous.--W.G.T.S.]
Chapter 2.--Every Corporeal Conception Must Be Rejected, in Order that
It May Be Understood How God is Truth.
3. But in respect to bodies, it may be the case that this gold and
that gold may be equally true [real], but this may be greater than
that, since magnitude is not the same thing in this case as truth; and
it is one thing for it to be gold, another to be great. So also in the
nature of the soul; a soul is not called great in the same respect in
which it is called true. For he, too, has a true [real] soul who has
not a great soul; since the essence of body and soul is not the
essence of the truth [reality] itself; as is the Trinity, one God,
alone, great, true, truthful, the truth. Of whom if we endeavor to
think, so far as He Himself permits and grants, let us not think of
any touch or embrace in local space, as if of three bodies, or of any
compactness of conjunction, as fables tell of three-bodied Geryon; but
let whatsoever may occur to the mind, that is of such sort as to be
greater in three than in each singly, and less in one than in two, be
rejected without any doubt; for so everything corporeal is rejected.
But also in spiritual things let nothing changeable that may have
occurred to the mind be thought of God. For when we aspire from this
depth to that height, it is a step towards no small knowledge, if,
before we can know what God is, we can already know what He is not.
For certainly He is neither earth nor heaven; nor, as it were, earth
and heaven; nor any such thing as we see in the heaven; nor any such
thing as we do not see, but which perhaps is in heaven. Neither if you
were to magnify in the imagination of your thought the light of the
sun as much as you are able, either that it may be greater, or that it
may be brighter, a thousand times as much, or times without number;
neither is this God. Neither as [663] we think of the pure angels as
spirits animating celestial bodies, and changing and dealing with them
after the will by which they serve God; not even if all, and there are
"thousands of thousands," [664] were brought together into one, and
became one; neither is any such thing God. Neither if you were to
think of the same spirits as without bodies--a thing indeed most
difficult for carnal thought to do. Behold and see, if thou canst, O
soul pressed down by the corruptible body, and weighed down by earthly
thoughts, many and various; behold and see, if thou canst, that God is
truth. [665] For it is written that "God is light;" [666] not in such
way as these eyes see, but in such way as the heart sees, when it is
said, He is truth [reality]. Ask not what is truth [reality] for
immediately the darkness of corporeal images and the clouds of
phantasms will put themselves in the way, and will disturb that calm
which at the first twinkling shone forth to thee, when I said truth
[reality]. See that thou remainest, if thou canst, in that first
twinkling with which thou art dazzled, as it were, by a flash, when it
is said to thee, Truth [Reality]. But thou canst not; thou wilt glide
back into those usual and earthly things. And what weight, pray, is it
that will cause thee so to glide back, unless it be the bird-lime of
the stains of appetite thou hast contracted, and the errors of thy
wandering from the right path?
Footnotes
[663] Read si for sicut, if for as. Bened. ed.
[664] Apoc. v. 11
[665] Wisd. ix. 15
[666] 1 John i. 5
Chapter 3.--How God May Be Known to Be the Chief Good. The Mind Does
Not Become Good Unless by Turning to God.
4. Behold again, and see if thou canst. Thou certainly dost not love
anything except what is good, since good is the earth, with the
loftiness of its mountains, and the due measure of its hills, and the
level surface of its plains; and good is an estate that is pleasant
and fertile; and good is a house that is arranged in due proportions,
and is spacious and bright; and good are animal and animate bodies;
and good is air that is temperate, and salubrious; and good is food
that is agreeable and fit for health; and good is health, without
pains or lassitude; and good is the countenance of man that is
disposed in fit proportions, and is cheerful in look, and bright in
color; and good is the mind of a friend, with the sweetness of
agreement, and with the confidence of love; and good is a righteous
man; and good are riches, since they are readily useful; and good is
the heaven, with its sun, and moon, and stars; and good are the
angels, by their holy obedience; and good is discourse that sweetly
teaches and suitably admonishes the hearer; and good is a poem that is
harmonious in its numbers and weighty in its sense. And why add yet
more and more? This thing is good and that good, but take away this
and that, and regard good itself if thou canst; so wilt thou see God,
not good by a good that is other than Himself, but the good of all
good. For in all these good things, whether those which I have
mentioned, or any else that are to be discerned or thought, we could
not say that one was better than another, when we judge truly, unless
a conception of the good itself had been impressed upon us, such that
according to it we might both approve some things as good, and prefer
one good to another. So God is to be loved, not this and that good,
but the good itself. For the good that must be sought for the soul is
not one above which it is to fly by judging, but to which it is to
cleave by loving; and what can this be except God? Not a good mind, or
a good angel, or the good heaven, but the good good. For perhaps what
I wish to say may be more easily perceived in this way. For when, for
instance, a mind is called good, as there are two words, so from these
words I understand two things--one whereby it is mind, and another
whereby it is good. And itself had no share in making itself a mind,
for there was nothing as yet to make itself to be anything; but to
make itself to be a good mind, I see, must be brought about by the
will: not because that by which it is mind is not itself anything
good;--for how else is it already called, and most truly called,
better than the body?--but it is not yet called a good mind, for this
reason, that the action of the will still is wanted, by which it is to
become more excellent; and if it has neglected this, then it is justly
blamed, and is rightly called not a good mind. For it then differs
from the mind which does perform this; and since the latter is
praiseworthy, the former doubtless, which does not perform, it is
blameable. But when it does this of set purpose, and becomes a good
mind, it yet cannot attain to being so unless it turn itself to
something which itself is not. And to what can it turn itself that it
may become a good mind, except to the good which it loves, and seeks,
and obtains? And if it turns itself back again from this, and becomes
not good, then by the very act of turning away from the good, unless
that good remain in it from which it turns away, it cannot again turn
itself back thither if it should wish to amend.
5. Wherefore there would be no changeable goods, unless there were the
unchangeable good. Whenever then thou art told of this good thing and
that good thing, which things can also in other respects be called not
good, if thou canst put aside those things which are good by the
participation of the good, and discern that good itself by the
participation of which they are good (for when this or that good thing
is spoken of, thou understandest together with them the good itself
also): if, then, I say thou canst remove these things, and canst
discern the good in itself, then thou wilt have discerned God. And if
thou shalt cleave to Him with love, thou shalt be forthwith blessed.
But whereas other things are not loved, except because they are good,
be ashamed, in cleaving to them, not to love the good itself whence
they are good. That also, which is a mind, only because it is a mind,
while it is not yet also good by the turning itself to the
unchangeable good, but, as I said, is only a mind; whenever it so
pleases us, as that we prefer it even, if we understand aright, to all
corporeal light, does not please us in itself, but in that skill by
which it was made. For it is thence approved as made, wherein it is
seen to have been to be made. This is truth, and simple good: for it
is nothing else than the good itself, and for this reason also the
chief good. For no good can be diminished or increased, except that
which is good from some other good. Therefore the mind turns itself,
in order to be good, to that by which it comes to be a mind. Therefore
the will is then in harmony with nature, so that the mind may be
perfected in good, when that good is loved by the turning of the will
to it, whence that other good also comes which is not lost by the
turning away of the will from it. For by turning itself from the chief
good, the mind loses the being a good mind; but it does not lose the
being a mind. And this, too, is a good already, and one better than
the body. The will, therefore, loses that which the will obtains. For
the mind already was, that could wish to be turned to that from which
it was: but that as yet was not, that could wish to be before it was.
And herein is our [supreme] good, when we see whether the thing ought
to be or to have been, respecting which we comprehend that it ought to
be or to have been, and when we see that the thing could not have been
unless it ought to have been, of which we also do not comprehend in
what manner it ought to have been. This good then is not far from
every one of us: for in it we live, and move, and have our being.
[667]
Footnotes
[667] Acts xvii. 27, 28
Chapter 4.--God Must First Be Known by an Unerring Faith, that He May
Be Loved.
6. But it is by love that we must stand firm to this and cleave to
this, in order that we may enjoy the presence of that by which we are,
and in the absence of which we could not be at all. For as "we walk as
yet by faith, and not by sight," [668] we certainly do not yet see
God, as the same [apostle] saith, "face to face:" [669] whom however
we shall never see, unless now already we love. But who loves what he
does not know? For it is possible something may be known and not
loved: but I ask whether it is possible that what is not known can be
loved; since if it cannot, then no one loves God before he knows Him.
And what is it to know God except to behold Him and steadfastly
perceive Him with the mind? For He is not a body to be searched out by
carnal eyes. But before also that we have power to behold and to
perceive God, as He can be beheld and perceived, which is permitted to
the pure in heart; for "blessed are the pure in heart. for they shall
see God;" [670] except He is loved by faith, it will not be possible
for the heart to be cleansed, in order that it may be apt and meet to
see Him. For where are there those three, in order to build up which
in the mind the whole apparatus of the divine Scriptures has been
raised up, namely Faith, Hope, and Charity, [671] except in a mind
believing what it does not yet see, and hoping and loving what it
believes? Even He therefore who is not known, but yet is believed, can
be loved. But indisputably we must take care, lest the mind believing
that which it does not see, feign to itself something which is not,
and hope for and love that which is false. For in that case, it will
not be charity out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of
faith unfeigned, which is the end of the commandment, as the same
apostle says. [672]
7. But it must needs be, that, when by reading or hearing of them we
believe in any corporeal things which we have not seen, the mind
frames for itself something under bodily features and forms, just as
it may occur to our thoughts; which either is not true, or even if it
be true, which can most rarely happen, yet this is of no benefit to us
to believe in by faith, but it is useful for some other purpose, which
is intimated by means of it. For who is there that reads or hears what
the Apostle Paul has written, or what has been written of him, that
does not imagine to himself the countenance both of the apostle
himself, and of all those whose names are there mentioned? And
whereas, among such a multitude of men to whom these books are known,
each imagines in a different way those bodily features and forms, it
is assuredly uncertain which it is that imagines them more nearly and
more like the reality. Nor, indeed, is our faith busied therein with
the bodily countenance of those men; but only that by the grace of God
they so lived and so acted as that Scripture witnesses: this it is
which it is both useful to believe, and which must not be despaired
of, and must be sought. For even the countenance of our Lord Himself
in the flesh is variously fancied by the diversity of countless
imaginations, which yet was one, whatever it was. Nor in our faith
which we have of our Lord Jesus Christ, is that wholesome which the
mind imagines for itself, perhaps far other than the reality, but that
which we think of man according to his kind: for we have a notion of
human nature implanted in us, as it were by rule, according to which
we know forthwith, that whatever such thing we see is a man or the
form of a man.
Footnotes
[668] 2 Cor. v. 7
[669] 1 Cor. xiii. 12
[670] Matt. v. 8
[671] 1 Cor. xiii. 13
[672] 1 Tim. i. 5
Chapter 5.--How the Trinity May Be Loved Though Unknown.
Our conception is framed according to this notion, when we believe
that God was made man for us, as an example of humility, and to show
the love of God towards us. For this it is which it is good for us to
believe, and to retain firmly and unshakenly in our heart, that the
humility by which God was born of a woman, and was led to death
through contumelies so great by mortal men, is the chiefest remedy by
which the swelling of our pride may be cured, and the profound mystery
by which the bond of sin may be loosed. So also, because we know what
omnipotence is, we believe concerning the omnipotent God in the power
of His miracles and of His resurrection, and we frame conceptions
respecting actions of this kind, according to the species and genera
of things that are either ingrafted in us by nature, or gathered by
experience, that our faith may not be feigned. For neither do we know
the countenance of the Virgin Mary; from whom, untouched by a husband,
nor tainted in the birth itself, He was wonderfully born. Neither have
we seen what were the lineaments of the body of Lazarus; nor yet
Bethany; nor the sepulchre, and that stone which He commanded to be
removed when He raised Him from the dead; nor the new tomb cut out in
the rock, whence He Himself arose; nor the Mount of Olives, from
whence He ascended into heaven. And, in short, whoever of us have not
seen these things, know not whether they are as we conceive them to
be, nay judge them more probably not to be so. For when the aspect
either of a place, or a man, or of any other body, which we happened
to imagine before we saw it, turns out to be the same when it occurs
to our sight as it was when it occurred to our mind, we are moved with
no little wonder. So scarcely and hardly ever does it happen. And yet
we believe those things most steadfastly, because we imagine them
according to a special and general notion, of which we are certain.
For we believe our Lord Jesus Christ to be born of a virgin who was
called Mary. But what a virgin is, or what it is to be born, and what
is a proper name, we do not believe, but certainly know. And whether
that was the countenance of Mary which occurred to the mind in
speaking of those things or recollecting them, we neither know at all,
nor believe. It is allowable, then, in this case to say without
violation of the faith, perhaps she had such or such a countenance,
perhaps she had not: but no one could say without violation of the
Christian faith, that perhaps Christ was born of a virgin.
8. Wherefore, since we desire to understand the eternity, and
equality, and unity of the Trinity, as much as is permitted us, but
ought to believe before we understand; and since we must watch
carefully, that our faith be not feigned; since we must have the
fruition of the same Trinity, that we may live blessedly; but if we
have believed anything false of it, our hope would be worthless, and
our charity not pure: how then can we love, by believing, that Trinity
which we do not know? Is it according to the special or general
notion, according to which we love the Apostle Paul? In whose case,
even if he was not of that countenance which occurs to us when we
think of him (and this we do not know at all), yet we know what a man
is. For not to go far away, this we are; and it is manifest he, too,
was this, and that his soul joined to his body lived after the manner
of mortals. Therefore we believe this of him, which we find in
ourselves, according to the species or genus under which all human
nature alike is comprised. What then do we know, whether specially or
generally, of that most excellent Trinity, as if there were many such
trinities, some of which we had learned by experience, so that we may
believe that Trinity, too, to have been such as they, through the rule
of similitude, impressed upon us, whether a special or a general
notion; and thus love also that thing which we believe and do not yet
know, from the parity of the thing which we do know? But this
certainly is not so. Or is it that, as we love in our Lord Jesus
Christ, that He rose from the dead, although we never saw any one rise
from thence, so we can believe in and love the Trinity which we do not
see, and the like of which we never have seen? But we certainly know
what it is to die, and what it is to live; because we both live, and
from time to time have seen and experienced both dead and dying
persons. And what else is it to rise again, except to live again, that
is, to return to life from death? When, therefore, we say and believe
that there is a Trinity, we know what a Trinity is, because we know
what three are; but this is not what we love. For we can easily have
this whenever we will, to pass over other things, by just holding up
three fingers. Or do we indeed love, not every trinity, but the
Trinity, that is God? We love then in the Trinity, that it is God: but
we never saw or knew any other God, because God is One; He alone whom
we have not yet seen, and whom we love by believing. But the question
is, from what likeness or comparison of known things can we believe,
in order that we may love God, whom we do not yet know?
Chapter 6.--How the Man Not Yet Righteous Can Know the Righteous Man
Whom He Loves.
9. Return then with me, and let us consider why we love the apostle.
Is it at all on account of his human kind, which we know right well,
in that we believe him to have been a man? Assuredly not; for if it
were so, he now is not him whom we love, since he is no longer that
man, for his soul is separated from his body. But we believe that
which we love in him to be still living, for we love his righteous
mind. From what general or special rule then, except that we know both
what a mind is, and what it is to be righteous? And we say, indeed,
not unfitly, that we therefore know what a mind is, because we too
have a mind. For neither did we ever see it with our eyes, and gather
a special or general notion from the resemblance of more minds than
one, which we had seen; but rather, as I have said before, because we
too have it. For what is known so intimately, and so perceives itself
to be itself, as that by which also all other things are perceived,
that is, the mind itself? For we recognize the movements of bodies
also, by which we perceive that others live besides ourselves, from
the resemblance of ourselves; since we also so move our body in living
as we observe those bodies to be moved. For even when a living body is
moved, there is no way opened to our eyes to see the mind, a thing
which cannot be seen by the eyes; but we perceive something to be
contained in that bulk, such as is contained in ourselves, so as to
move in like manner our own bulk, which is the life and the soul.
Neither is this, as it were, the property of human foresight and
reason, since brute animals also perceive that not only they
themselves live, but also other brute animals interchangeably, and the
one the other, and that we ourselves do so. Neither do they see our
souls, save from the movements of the body, and that immediately and
most easily by some natural agreement. Therefore we both know the mind
of any one from our own, and believe also from our own of him whom we
do not know. For not only do we perceive that there is a mind, but we
can also know what a mind is, by reflecting upon our own: for we have
a mind. But whence do we know what a righteous man is? For we said
above that we love the apostle for no other reason except that he is a
righteous mind. We know, then, what a righteous man also is, just as
we know what a mind is. But what a mind is, as has been said, we know
from ourselves, for there is a mind in us. But whence do we know what
a righteous man is, if we are not righteous? But if no one but he who
is righteous knows what is a righteous man, no one but a righteous man
loves a righteous man; for one cannot love him whom one believes to be
righteous, for this very reason that one does believe him to be
righteous, if one does not know what it is to be righteous; according
to that which we have shown above, that no one loves what he believes
and does not see, except by some rule of a general or special notion.
And if for this reason no one but a righteous man loves a righteous
man, how will any one wish to be a righteous man who is not yet so?
For no one wishes to be that which he does not love. But, certainly,
that he who is not righteous may be so, it is necessary that he should
wish to be righteous; and in order that he may wish to be righteous,
he loves the righteous man. Therefore, even he who is not yet
righteous, loves the righteous man. [673] But he cannot love the
righteous man, who is ignorant what a righteous man is. Accordingly,
even he who is not yet righteous, knows what a righteous man is.
Whence then does he know this? Does he see it with his eyes? Is any
corporeal thing righteous, as it is white, or black, or square, or
round? Who could say this? Yet with one's eyes one has seen nothing
except corporeal things. But there is nothing righteous in a man
except the mind; and when a man is called a righteous man, he is
called so from the mind, not from the body. For righteousness is in
some sort the beauty of the mind, by which men are beautiful; very
many too who are misshapen and deformed in body. And as the mind is
not seen with the eyes, so neither is its beauty. From whence then
does he who is not yet righteous know what a righteous man is, and
love the righteous man that he may become righteous? Do certain signs
shine forth by the motion of the body, by which this or that man is
manifested to be righteous? But whence does any one know that these
are the signs of a righteous mind when he is wholly ignorant what it
is to be righteous? Therefore he does know. But whence do we know what
it is to be righteous, even when we are not yet righteous? If we know
from without ourselves, we know it by some bodily thing. But this is
not a thing of the body. Therefore we know in ourselves what it is to
be righteous. For I find this nowhere else when I seek to utter it,
except within myself; and if I ask another what it is to be righteous,
he seeks within himself what to answer; and whosoever hence can answer
truly, he has found within himself what to answer. And when indeed I
wish to speak of Carthage, I seek within myself what to speak, and I
find within myself a notion or image of Carthage; but I have received
this through the body, that is, through the perception of the body,
since I have been present in that city in the body, and I saw and
perceived it, and retained it in my memory, that I might find within
myself a word concerning it, whenever I might wish to speak of it. For
its word is the image itself of it in my memory, not that sound of two
syllables when Carthage is named, or even when that name itself is
thought of silently from time to time, but that which I discern in my
mind, when I utter that dissyllable with my voice, or even before I
utter it. So also, when I wish to speak of Alexandria, which I never
saw, an image of it is present with me. For whereas I had heard from
many and had believed that city to be great, in such way as it could
be told me, I formed an image of it in my mind as I was able; and this
is with me its word when I wish to speak of it, before I utter with my
voice the five syllables which make the name that almost every one
knows. And yet if I could bring forth that image from my mind to the
eyes of men who know Alexandria, certainly all either would say, It is
not it; or if they said, It is, I should greatly wonder; and as I
gazed at it in my mind, that is, at the image which was as it were its
picture, I should yet not know it to be it, but should believe those
who retained an image they had seen. But I do not so ask what it is to
be righteous, nor do I so find it, nor do I so gaze upon it, when I
utter it; neither am I so approved when I am heard, nor do I so
approve when I hear; as though I have seen such a thing with my eyes,
or learned it by some perception of the body, or heard it from those
who had so learned it. For when I say, and say knowingly, that mind is
righteous which knowingly and of purpose assigns to every one his due
in life and behavior, I do not think of anything absent, as Carthage,
or imagine it as I am able, as Alexandria, whether it be so or not;
but I discern something present, and I discern it within myself,
though I myself am not that which I discern; and many if they hear
will approve it. And whoever hears me and knowingly approves, he too
discerns this same thing within himself, even though he himself be not
what he discerns. But when a righteous man says this, he discerns and
says that which he himself is. And whence also does he discern it,
except within himself? But this is not to be wondered at; for whence
should he discern himself except within himself? The wonderful thing
is, that the mind should see within itself that which it has seen
nowhere else, and should see truly, and should see the very true
righteous mind, and should itself be a mind, and yet not a righteous
mind, which nevertheless it sees within itself. Is there another mind
that is righteous in a mind that is not yet righteous? Or if there is
not, what does it there see when it sees and says what is a righteous
mind, nor sees it anywhere else but in itself, when itself is not a
righteous mind? Is that which it sees an inner truth present to the
mind which has power to behold it? Yet all have not that power; and
they who have power to behold it, are not all also that which they
behold, that is, they are not also righteous minds themselves, just as
they are able to see and to say what is a righteous mind. And whence
will they be able to be so, except by cleaving to that very same form
itself which they behold, so that from thence they may be formed and
may be righteous minds; not only discerning and saying that the mind
is righteous which knowingly and of purpose assigns to every one that
which is his due in life and behavior, but so likewise that they
themselves may live righteously and be righteous in character, by
assigning to every one that which is his due, so as to owe no man
anything, but to love one another. [674] And whence can any one cleave
to that form but by loving it? Why then do we love another whom we
believe to be righteous, and do not love that form itself wherein we
see what is a righteous mind, that we also may be able to be
righteous? Is it that unless we loved that also, we should not love
him at all, whom through it we love; but whilst we are not righteous,
we love that form too little to allow of our being able to be
righteous? The man therefore who is believed to be righteous, is loved
through that form and truth which he who loves discerns and
understands within himself; but that very form and truth itself cannot
be loved from any other source than itself. For we do not find any
other such thing besides itself, so that by believing we might love it
when it is unknown, in that we here already know another such thing.
For whatsoever of such a kind one may have seen, is itself; and there
is not any other such thing, since itself alone is such as itself is.
He therefore who loves men, ought to love them either because they are
righteous, or that they may become righteous. For so also he ought to
love himself, either because he is righteous, or that he may become
righteous; for in this way he loves his neighbor as himself without
any risk. For he who loves himself otherwise, loves himself
wrongfully, since he loves himself to this end that he may be
unrighteous; therefore to this end that he may be wicked; and hence it
follows next that he does not love himself; for, "He who loveth
iniquity, [675] hateth his own soul." [676]
Footnotes
[673] [The "wish" and "love" which Augustin here attributes to the
non-righteous man is not true and spiritual, but selfish. In chapter
vii. 10, he speaks of true love as distinct from that kind of desire
which is a mere wish. The latter he calls cupiditas. "That is to be
called love which is true, otherwise it is desire (cupiditas); and so
those who desire (cupidi) are improperly said to love (diligere), just
as they who love (diligunt) are said improperly to desire
(cupere)."--W.G.T.S.]
[674] Rom. xiii. 8
[675] Violence--A.V.
[676] Ps. xi. 6
Chapter 7.--Of True Love, by Which We Arrive at the Knowledge of the
Trinity. God is to Be Sought, Not Outwardly, by Seeking to Do
Wonderful Things with the Angels, But Inwardly, by Imitating the Piety
of Good Angels.
10. No other thing, then, is chiefly to be regarded in this inquiry,
which we make concerning the Trinity and concerning knowing God,
except what is true love, nay, rather what is love. For that is to be
called love which is true, otherwise it is desire; and so those who
desire are said improperly to love, just as they who love are said
improperly to desire. But this is true love, that cleaving to the
truth we may live righteously, and so may despise all mortal things in
comparison with the love of men, whereby we wish them to live
righteously. For so we should be prepared also to die profitably for
our brethren, as our Lord Jesus Christ taught us by His example. For
as there are two commandments on which hang all the Law and the
prophets, love of God and love of our neighbor; [677] not without
cause the Scripture mostly puts one for both: whether it be of God
only, as is that text, "For we know that all things work together for
good to them that love God;" [678] and again, "But if any man love
God, the same is known of Him;" [679] and that, "Because the love of
God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto
us;" [680] and many other passages; because he who loves God must both
needs do what God has commanded, and loves Him just in such proportion
as he does so; therefore he must needs also love his neighbor, because
God has commanded it: or whether it be that Scripture only mentions
the love of our neighbor, as in that text, "Bear ye one another's
burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ;" [681] and again, "For all
the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this, Thou shalt love thy
neighbor as thyself;" [682] and in the Gospel, "All things whatsoever
ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them; for this is
the Law and the prophets." [683] And many other passages occur in the
sacred writings, in which only the love of our neighbor seems to be
commanded for perfection, while the love of God is passed over in
silence; whereas the Law and the prophets hang on both precepts. But
this, too, is because he who loves his neighbor must needs also love
above all else love itself. But "God is love; and he that dwelleth in
love, dwelleth in God." [684] Therefore he must needs above all else
love God.
11. Wherefore they who seek God through those Powers which rule over
the world, or parts of the world, are removed and cast away far from
Him; not by intervals of space, but by difference of affections: for
they endeavor to find a path outwardly, and forsake their own inward
things, within which is God. Therefore, even although they may either
have heard some holy heavenly Power, or in some way or another may
have thought of it, yet they rather covet its deeds at which human
weakness marvels, but do not imitate the piety by which divine rest is
acquired. For they prefer, through pride, to be able to do that which
an angel does, more than, through devotion, to be that which an angel
is. For no holy being rejoices in his own power, but in His from whom
he has the power which he fitly can have; and he knows it to be more a
mark of power to be united to the Omnipotent by a pious will, than to
be able, by his own power and will, to do what they may tremble at who
are not able to do such things. Therefore the Lord Jesus Christ
Himself, in doing such things, in order that He might teach better
things to those who marvelled at them, and might turn those who were
intent and in doubt about unusual temporal things to eternal and inner
things, says, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden,
and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you." And He does not say,
Learn of me, because I raise those who have been dead four days; but
He says, "Learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart." For
humility, which is most solid, is more powerful and safer than pride,
that is most inflated. And so He goes on to say, "And ye shall find
rest unto your souls," [685] for "Love [686] is not puffed up;" [687]
and "God is Love;" [688] and "such as be faithful in love shall rest
in [689] Him," [690] called back from the din which is without to
silent joys. Behold, "God is Love:" why do we go forth and run to the
heights of the heavens and the lowest parts of the earth, seeking Him
who is within us, if we wish to be with Him?
Footnotes
[677] Matt. xxii. 37-40
[678] Rom. viii. 28
[679] 1 Cor. viii. 3
[680] Rom. v. 5
[681] Gal. vi. 2
[682] Gal. v. 14
[683] Matt. vii. 12
[684] 1 John iv. 6
[685] Matt. xi. 28, 29
[686] Charity.--A.V.
[687] 1 Cor. xiii. 4
[688] 1 John iv. 8
[689] Abide with.--A.V.
[690] Wisd. iii. 9
Chapter 8.--That He Who Loves His Brother, Loves God; Because He Loves
Love Itself, Which is of God, and is God.
12. Let no one say, I do not know what I love. Let him love his
brother, and he will love the same love. For he knows the love with
which he loves, more than the brother whom he loves. So now he can
know God more than he knows his brother: clearly known more, because
more present; known more, because more within him; known more, because
more certain. Embrace the love of God, and by love embrace God. That
is love itself, which associates together all good angels and all the
servants of God by the bond of sanctity, and joins together us and
them mutually with ourselves, and joins us subordinately to Himself.
In proportion, therefore, as we are healed from the swelling of pride,
in such proportion are we more filled with love; and with what is he
full, who is full of love, except with God? Well, but you will say, I
see love, and, as far as I am able, I gaze upon it with my mind, and I
believe the Scripture, saying, that "God is love; and he that dwelleth
in love, dwelleth in God;" [691] but when I see love, I do not see in
it the Trinity. Nay, but thou dost see the Trinity if thou seest love.
But if I can I will put you in mind, that thou mayest see that thou
seest it; only let itself be present, that we may be moved by love to
something good. Since, when we love love, we love one who loves
something, and that on account of this very thing, that he does love
something; therefore what does love love, that love itself also may be
loved? For that is not love which loves nothing. But if it loves
itself it must love something, that it may love itself as love. For as
a word indicates something, and indicates also itself, but does not
indicate itself to be a word, unless it indicates that it does
indicate something; so love also loves indeed itself, but except it
love itself as loving something, it loves itself not as love. What
therefore does love love, except that which we love with love? But
this, to begin from that which is nearest to us, is our brother. And
listen how greatly the Apostle John commends brotherly love: "He that
loveth his brother abideth in the light, and there is none occasion of
stumbling in him." [692] It is manifest that he placed the perfection
of righteousness in the love of our brother; for he certainly is
perfect in whom "there is no occasion of stumbling." And yet he seems
to have passed by the love of God in silence; which he never would
have done, unless because he intends God to be understood in brotherly
love itself. For in this same epistle, a little further on, he says
most plainly thus: "Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of
God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. He
that loveth not, knoweth not God; for God is love." And this passage
declares sufficiently and plainly, that this same brotherly love
itself (for that is brotherly love by which we love each other) is set
forth by so great authority, not only to be from God, but also to be
God. When, therefore, we love our brother from love, we love our
brother from God; neither can it be that we do not love above all else
that same love by which we love our brother: whence it may be gathered
that these two commandments cannot exist unless interchangeably. For
since "God is love," he who loves love certainly loves God; but he
must needs love love, who loves his brother. And so a little after he
says, "For he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can
he love God whom he hath not seen"? [693] because the reason that he
does not see God is, that he does not love his brother. For he who
does not love his brother, abideth not in love; and he who abideth not
in love, abideth not in God, because God is love. Further, he who
abideth not in God, abideth not in light; for "God is light, and in
Him is no darkness at all." [694] He therefore who abideth not in
light, what wonder is it if he does not see light, that is, does not
see God, because he is in darkness? But he sees his brother with human
sight, with which God cannot be seen. But if he loved with spiritual
love him whom he sees with human sight, he would see God, who is love
itself, with the inner sight by which He can be seen. Therefore he who
does not love his brother whom he sees, how can he love God, whom on
that account he does not see, because God is love, which he has not
who does not love his brother? Neither let that further question
disturb us, how much of love we ought to spend upon our brother, and
how much upon God: incomparably more upon God than upon ourselves, but
upon our brother as much as upon ourselves; and we love ourselves so
much the more, the more we love God. Therefore we love God and our
neighbor from one and the same love; but we love God for the sake of
God, and ourselves and our neighbors for the sake of God.
Footnotes
[691] 1 John iv. 16
[692] 1 John ii. 10
[693] 1 John iv. 7, 8, 20
[694] 1 John i. 5
Chapter 9.--Our Love of the Righteous is Kindled from Love Itself of
the Unchangeable Form of Righteousness.
13. For why is it, pray, that we burn when we hear and read, "Behold,
now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation: giving
no offense in anything, that the ministry be not blamed: but in all
things approving ourselves as the ministers of God, in much patience,
in afflictions, in necessities, in distresses, in stripes, in
imprisonments, in tumults, in labors, in watchings, in fastings; by
pureness, by knowledge, by long-suffering, by kindness, by the Holy
Ghost, by love unfeigned, by the word of truth, by the power of God,
by the armor of righteousness on the right hand and on the left, by
honor and dishonor, by evil report and good report: as deceivers, and
yet true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and, behold, we
live; as chastened, and not killed; as sorrowful, yet alway rejoicing;
as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing
all things?" [695] Why is it that we are inflamed with love of the
Apostle Paul, when we read these things, unless that we believe him so
to have lived? But we do not believe that the ministers of God ought
so to live because we have heard it from any one, but because we
behold it inwardly within ourselves, or rather above ourselves, in the
truth itself. Him, therefore, whom we believe to have so lived, we
love for that which we see. And except we loved above all else that
form which we discern as always steadfast and unchangeable, we should
not for that reason love him, because we hold fast in our belief that
his life, when he was living in the flesh, was adapted to, and in
harmony with, this form. But somehow we are stirred up the more to the
love of this form itself, through the belief by which we believe some
one to have so lived; and to the hope by which we no more at all
despair, that we, too, are able so to live; we who are men, from this
fact itself, that some men have so lived, so that we both desire this
more ardently, and pray for it more confidently. So both the love of
that form, according to which they are believed to have lived, makes
the life of these men themselves to be loved by us; and their life
thus believed stirs up a more burning love towards that same form; so
that the more ardently we love God, the more certainly and the more
calmly do we see Him, because we behold in God the unchangeable form
of righteousness, according to which we judge that man ought to live.
Therefore faith avails to the knowledge and to the love of God, not as
though of one altogether unknown, or altogether not loved; but so that
thereby He may be known more clearly, and loved more steadfastly.
Footnotes
[695] 2 Cor. vi. 2-10
Chapter 10.--There are Three Things in Love, as It Were a Trace of the
Trinity.
14. But what is love or charity, which divine Scripture so greatly
praises and proclaims, except the love of good? But love is of some
one that loves, and with love something is loved. Behold, then, there
are three things: he that loves, and that which is loved, and love.
What, then, is love, except a certain life which couples or seeks to
couple together some two things, namely, him that loves, and that
which is loved? And this is so even in outward and carnal loves. But
that we may drink in something more pure and clear, let us tread down
the flesh and ascend to the mind. What does the mind love in a friend
except the mind? There, then, also are three things: he that loves,
and that which is loved, and love. It remains to ascend also from
hence, and to seek those things which are above, as far as is given to
man. But here for a little while let our purpose rest, not that it may
think itself to have found already what it seeks; but just as usually
the place has first to be found where anything is to be sought, while
the thing itself is not yet found, but we have only found already
where to look for it; so let it suffice to have said thus much, that
we may have, as it were, the hinge of some starting-point, whence to
weave the rest of our discourse.
.
Book IX.
That a kind of trinity exists in man, who is the image of God, viz.
the mind, and the knowledge wherewith the mind knows itself, and the
love wherewith it loves both itself and its own knowledge; and these
three are shown to be mutually equal, and of one essence.
Chapter 1.--In What Way We Must Inquire Concerning the Trinity.
1. We certainly seek a trinity,--not any trinity, but that Trinity
which is God, and the true and supreme and only God. Let my hearers
then wait, for we are still seeking. And no one justly finds fault
with such a search, if at least he who seeks that which either to know
or to utter is most difficult, is steadfast in the faith. But
whosoever either sees or teaches better, finds fault quickly and
justly with any one who confidently affirms concerning it. "Seek God,"
he says, "and your heart shall live;" [696] and lest any one should
rashly rejoice that he has, as it were, apprehended it, "Seek," he
says, "His face evermore." [697] And the apostle: "If any man," he
says, "think that he knoweth anything, he knoweth nothing yet as he
ought to know. But if any man love God, the same is known of Him."
[698] He has not said, has known Him, which is dangerous presumption,
but "is known of Him." So also in another place, when he had said,
"But now after that ye have known God:" immediately correcting
himself, he says, "or rather are known of God." [699] And above all in
that other place, "Brethren," he says, "I count not myself to have
apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which
are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I
press in purpose [700] toward the mark, for the prize of the high
calling of God in Christ Jesus. Let us therefore, as many as be
perfect, be thus minded." [701] Perfection in this life, he tells us,
is nothing else than to forget those things which are behind, and to
reach forth and press in purpose toward those things which are before.
For he that seeks has the safest purpose, [who seeks] until that is
taken hold of whither we are tending, and for which we are reaching
forth. But that is the right purpose which starts from faith. For a
certain faith is in some way the starting-point of knowledge; but a
certain knowledge will not be made perfect, except after this life,
when we shall see face to face. [702] Let us therefore be thus minded,
so as to know that the disposition to seek the truth is more safe than
that which presumes things unknown to be known. Let us therefore so
seek as if we should find, and so find as if we were about to seek.
For "when a man hath done, then he beginneth." [703] Let us doubt
without unbelief of things to be believed; let us affirm without
rashness of things to be understood: authority must be held fast in
the former, truth sought out in the latter. As regards this question,
then, let us believe that the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit
is one God, the Creator and Ruler of the whole creature; and that the
Father is not the Son, nor the Holy Spirit either the Father or the
Son, but a trinity of persons mutually interrelated, and a unity of an
equal essence. And let us seek to understand this, praying for help
from Himself, whom we wish to understand; and as much as He grants,
desiring to explain what we understand with so much pious care and
anxiety, that even if in any case we say one thing for another, we may
at least say nothing unworthy. As, for the sake of example, if we say
anything concerning the Father that does not properly belong to the
Father, or does belong to the Son, or to the Holy Spirit, or to the
Trinity itself; and if anything of the Son which does not properly
suit with the Son, or at all events which does suit with the Father,
or with the Holy Spirit, or with the Trinity; or if, again, anything
concerning the Holy Spirit, which is not fitly a property of the Holy
Spirit, yet is not alien from the Father, or from the Son, or from the
one God the Trinity itself. Even as now our wish is to see whether the
Holy Spirit is properly that love which is most excellent which if He
is not, either the Father is love, or the Son, or the Trinity itself;
since we cannot withstand the most certain faith and weighty authority
of Scripture, saying, "God is love." [704] And yet we ought not to
deviate into profane error, so as to say anything of the Trinity which
does not suit the Creator, but rather the creature, or which is
feigned outright by mere empty thought.
Footnotes
[696] Ps. lxix. 32
[697] Ps. cv. 4
[698] 1 Cor. viii. 2
[699] Gal. iv. 19
[700] In purpose, om. in A.V.
[701] Phil. iii. 13-15
[702] 1 Cor. xiii. 12
[703] Ecclus. xviii. 7
[704] 1 John iv. 16
Chapter 2.--The Three Things Which are Found in Love Must Be
Considered. [705]
2. And this being so, let us direct our attention to those three
things which we fancy we have found. We are not yet speaking of
heavenly things, nor yet of God the Father, and Son, and Holy Spirit,
but of that inadequate image, which yet is an image, that is, man; for
our feeble mind perhaps can gaze upon this more familiarly and more
easily. Well then, when I, who make this inquiry, love anything, there
are three things concerned--myself, and that which I love, and love
itself. For I do not love love, except I love a lover; for there is no
love where nothing is loved. Therefore there are three things--he who
loves, and that which is loved, and love. But what if I love none
except myself? Will there not then be two things--that which I love,
and love? For he who loves and that which is loved are the same when
any one loves himself; just as to love and to be loved, in the same
way, is the very same thing when any one loves himself. Since the same
thing is said, when it is said, he loves himself, and he is loved by
himself. For in that case to love and to be loved are not two
different things: just as he who loves and he who is loved are not two
different persons. But yet, even so, love and what is loved are still
two things. For there is no love when any one loves himself, except
when love itself is loved. But it is one thing to love one's self,
another to love one's own love. For love is not loved, unless as
already loving something; since where nothing is loved there is no
love. Therefore there are two things when any one loves himself--love,
and that which is loved. For then he that loves and that which is
loved are one. Whence it seems that it does not follow that three
things are to be understood wherever love is. For let us put aside
from the inquiry all the other many things of which a man consists;
and in order that we may discover clearly what we are now seeking, as
far as in such a subject is possible, let us treat of the mind alone.
The mind, then, when it loves itself, discloses two things--mind and
love. But what is to love one's self, except to wish to help one's
self to the enjoyment of self? And when any one wishes himself to be
just as much as he is, then the will is on a par with the mind, and
the love is equal to him who loves. And if love is a substance, it is
certainly not body, but spirit; and the mind also is not body, but
spirit. Yet love and mind are not two spirits, but one spirit; nor yet
two essences, but one: and yet here are two things that are one, he
that loves and love; or, if you like so to put it, that which is loved
and love. And these two, indeed, are mutually said relatively. Since
he who loves is referred to love, and love to him who loves. For he
who loves, loves with some love, and love is the love of some one who
loves. But mind and spirit are not said relatively, but express
essence. For mind and spirit do not exist because the mind and spirit
of some particular man exists. For if we subtract the body from that
which is man, which is so called with the conjunction of body, the
mind and spirit remain. But if we subtract him that loves, then there
is no love; and if we subtract love, then there is no one that loves.
And therefore, in so far as they are mutually referred to one another,
they are two; but whereas they are spoken in respect to themselves,
each are spirit, and both together also are one spirit; and each are
mind, and both together one mind. Where, then, is the trinity? Let us
attend as much as we can, and let us invoke the everlasting light,
that He may illuminate our darkness, and that we may see in ourselves,
as much as we are permitted, the image of God.
Footnotes
[705] [Augustin here begins his discussion of some ternaries that are
found in the Finite, that illustrate the trinality of the Infinite.
Like all finite analogies, they fail at certain points. In the case
chosen--namely, the lover, the loved, and love--the first two are
substances, the last is not. The mind is a substance, but its activity
in loving is not. In chapter iv. 5, Augustin asserts that "love and
knowledge exist substantially, as the mind itself does." But no
psychology, ancient or modern, has ever maintained that the agencies
of a spiritual entity or substance are themselves spiritual entity or
substances. The activities of the human mind in cognizing, loving,
etc., are only its energizing, not its substance. The ambiguity of the
Latin contributes to this error. The mind and its loving, and also the
mind and its cognizing, are denominated "duo quĉdam" the mind, love,
and knowledge, are denominated "tria quĉdem." By bringing the mind and
its love and knowledge under the one term "quĉdam," and then giving
the meaning of "substance" to "thing," in "something," the result
follows that all three are alike and equally "substantial." This
analogy taken from the mind and its activities illustrates the
trinality of the Divine essence, but fails to illustrate the
substantiality of the three persons. The three Divine persons are not
the Divine essence together with two of its activities (such, e.g., as
creation and redemption), but the essence in three modes, or "forms,"
as St. Paul denominates them in Phil. iii. 6 If Augustin could prove
his assertion that the activities of the human spirit in knowing and
loving are strictly "substantial," then this ternary would illustrate
not only the trinality of the essence, but the essentiality and
objectivity of the persons. The fact which he mentions, that knowledge
and love are inseparable from the knowing and loving mind, does not
prove their equal substantiality with the mind.--W.G.T.S.]
Chapter 3.--The Image of the Trinity in the Mind of Man Who Knows
Himself and Loves Himself. The Mind Knows Itself Through Itself.
3. For the mind cannot love itself, except also it know itself; for
how can it love what it does not know? Or if any body says that the
mind, from either general or special knowledge, believes itself of
such a character as it has by experience found others to be and
therefore loves itself, he speaks most foolishly. For whence does a
mind know another mind, if it does not know itself? For the mind does
not know other minds and not know itself, as the eye of the body sees
other eyes and does not see itself; for we see bodies through the eyes
of the body, because, unless we are looking into a mirror, we cannot
refract and reflect the rays into themselves which shine forth through
those eyes, and touch whatever we discern,--a subject, indeed, which
is treated of most subtlely and obscurely, until it be clearly
demonstrated whether the fact be so, or whether it be not. But
whatever is the nature of the power by which we discern through the
eyes, certainly, whether it be rays or anything else, we cannot
discern with the eyes that power itself; but we inquire into it with
the mind, and if possible, understand even this with the mind. As the
mind, then, itself gathers the knowledge of corporeal things through
the senses of the body, so of incorporeal things through itself.
Therefore it knows itself also through itself, since it is
incorporeal; for if it does not know itself, it does not love itself.
Chapter 4.--The Three are One, and Also Equal, Viz The Mind Itself,
and the Love, and the Knowledge of It. That the Same Three Exist
Substantially, and are Predicated Relatively. That the Same Three are
Inseparable. That the Same Three are Not Joined and Commingled Like
Parts, But that They are of One Essence, and are Relatives.
4. But as there are two things (duo quĉdam), the mind and the love of
it, when it loves itself; so there are two things, the mind and the
knowledge of it, when it knows itself. Therefore the mind itself, and
the love of it, and the knowledge of it, are three things (tria
quĉdam), and these three are one; and when they are perfect they are
equal. For if one loves himself less than as he is,--as for example,
suppose that the mind of a man only loves itself as much as the body
of a man ought to be loved, whereas the mind is more than the
body,--then it is in fault, and its love is not perfect. Again, if it
loves itself more than as it is,--as if, for instance, it loves itself
as much as God is to be loved, whereas the mind is incomparably less
than God,--here also it is exceedingly in fault, and its love of self
is not perfect. But it is in fault more perversely and wrongly still,
when it loves the body as much as God is to be loved. Also, if
knowledge is less than that thing which is known, and which can be
fully known, then knowledge is not perfect; but if it is greater, then
the nature which knows is above that which is known, as the knowledge
of the body is greater than the body itself, which is known by that
knowledge. For knowledge is a kind of life in the reason of the
knower, but the body is not life; and any life is greater than any
body, not in bulk, but in power. But when the mind knows itself, its
own knowledge does not rise above itself, because itself knows, and
itself is known. When, therefore, it knows itself entirely, and no
other thing with itself, then its knowledge is equal to itself;
because its knowledge is not from another nature, since it knows
itself. And when it perceives itself entirely, and nothing more, then
it is neither less nor greater. We said therefore rightly, that these
three things, [mind, love, and knowledge], when they are perfect, are
by consequence equal.
5. Similar reasoning suggests to us, if indeed we can any way
understand the matter, that these things [i.e. love and knowledge]
exist in the soul, and that, being as it were involved in it, they are
so evolved from it as to be perceived and reckoned up substantially,
or, so to say, essentially. Not as though in a subject; as color, or
shape, or any other quality or quantity, are in the body. For anything
of this [material] kind does not go beyond the subject in which it is;
for the color or shape of this particular body cannot be also those of
another body. But the mind can also love something besides itself,
with that love with which it loves itself. And further, the mind does
not know itself only, but also many other things. Wherefore love and
knowledge are not contained in the mind as in a subject, but these
also exist substantially, as the mind itself does; because, even if
they are mutually predicated relatively, yet they exist each severally
in their own substance. Nor are they so mutually predicated relatively
as color and the colored subject are; so that color is in the colored
subject, but has not any proper substance in itself, since colored
body is a substance, but color is in a substance; but as two friends
are also two men, which are substances, while they are said to be men
not relatively, but friends relatively.
6. But, further, although one who loves or one who knows is a
substance, and knowledge is a substance, and love is a substance, but
he that loves and love, or, he that knows and knowledge, are spoken of
relatively to each other, as are friends: yet mind or spirit are not
relatives, as neither are men relatives: nevertheless he that loves
and love, or he that knows and knowledge, cannot exist separately from
each other, as men can that are friends. Although it would seem that
friends, too, can be separated in body, not in mind, in as far as they
are friends: nay, it can even happen that a friend may even also begin
to hate a friend and on this account cease to be a friend while the
other does not know it, and still loves him. But if the love with
which the mind loves itself ceases to be, then the mind also will at
the same time cease to love. Likewise, if the knowledge by which the
mind knows itself ceases to be, then the mind will also at the same
time cease to know itself. Just as the head of anything that has a
head is certainly a head, and they are predicated relatively to each
other, although they are also substances: for both a head is a body,
and so is that which has a head; and if there be no head, then neither
will there be that which has a head. Only these things can be
separated from each other by cutting off, those cannot.
7. And even if there are some bodies which cannot be wholly separated
and divided, yet they would not be bodies unless they consisted of
their own proper parts. A part then is predicated relatively to a
whole, since every part is a part of some whole, and a whole is a
whole by having all its parts. But since both part and whole are
bodies, these things are not only predicated relatively, but exist
also substantially. Perhaps, then, the mind is a whole, and the love
with which it loves itself, and the knowledge with which it knows
itself, are as it were its parts, of which two parts that whole
consists. Or are there three equal parts which make up the one whole?
But no part embraces the whole, of which it is a part; whereas, when
the mind knows itself as a whole, that is, knows itself perfectly,
then the knowledge of it extends through the whole of it; and when it
loves itself perfectly, then it loves itself as a whole, and the love
of it extends through the whole of it. Is it, then, as one drink is
made from wine and water and honey, and each single part extends
through the whole, and yet they are three things (for there is no part
of the drink which does not contain these three things; for they are
not joined as if they were water and oil, but are entirely commingled:
and they are all substances, and the whole of that liquor which is
composed of the three is one substance),--is it, I say, in some such
way as this we are to think these three to be together, mind, love,
and knowledge? But water, wine, and honey are not of one substance,
although one substance results in the drink made from the commingling
of them. And I cannot see how those other three are not of the same
substance, since the mind itself loves itself, and itself knows
itself; and these three so exist, as that the mind is neither loved
nor known by any other thing at all. These three, therefore, must
needs be of one and the same essence; and for that reason, if they
were confounded together as it were by a commingling, they could not
be in any way three, neither could they be mutually referred to each
other. Just as if you were to make from one and the same gold three
similar rings, although connected with each other, they are mutually
referred to each other, because they are similar. For everything
similar is similar to something, and there is a trinity of rings, and
one gold. But if they are blended with each other, and each mingled
with the other through the whole of their own bulk, then that trinity
will fall through, and it will not exist at all; and not only will it
be called one gold, as it was called in the case of those three rings,
but now it will not be called three things of gold at all.
Chapter 5.--That These Three are Several in Themselves, and Mutually
All in All.
8. But in these three, when the mind knows itself and loves itself,
there remains a trinity: mind, love, knowledge; and this trinity is
not confounded together by any commingling: although they are each
severally in themselves and mutually all in all, or each severally in
each two, or each two in each. Therefore all are in all. For certainly
the mind is in itself, since it is called mind in respect to itself:
although it is said to be knowing, or known, or knowable, relatively
to its own knowledge; and although also as loving, and loved, or
lovable, it is referred to love, by which it loves itself. And
knowledge, although it is referred to the mind that knows or is known,
nevertheless is also predicated both as known and knowing in respect
to itself: for the knowledge by which the mind knows itself is not
unknown to itself. And although love is referred to the mind that
loves, whose love it is; nevertheless it is also love in respect to
itself, so as to exist also in itself: since love too is loved, yet
cannot be loved with anything except with love, that is with itself.
So these things are severally in themselves. But so are they in each
other; because both the mind that loves is in love, and love is in the
knowledge of him that loves, and knowledge is in the mind that knows.
And each severally is in like manner in each two, because the mind
which knows and loves itself, is in its own love and knowledge: and
the love of the mind that loves and knows itself, is in the mind and
in its knowledge: and the knowledge of the mind that knows and loves
itself is in the mind and in its love, because it loves itself that
knows, and knows itself that loves. And hence also each two is in each
severally, since the mind which knows and loves itself, is together
with its own knowledge in love, and together with its own love in
knowledge; and love too itself and knowledge are together in the mind,
which loves and knows itself. But in what way all are in all, we have
already shown above; since the mind loves itself as a whole, and knows
itself as a whole, and knows its own love wholly, and loves its own
knowledge wholly, when these three things are perfect in respect to
themselves. Therefore these three things are marvellously inseparable
from each other, and yet each of them is severally a substance, and
all together are one substance or essence, whilst they are mutually
predicated relatively. [706]
Footnotes
[706] [Augustin here illustrates, by the ternary of mind, love, and
knowledge, what the Greek Trinitarians denominate the perichoresis of
the divine essence. By the figure of a circulation, they describe the
eternal inbeing and indwelling of one person in another. This is
founded on John xiv. 10, 11; xvii. 21, 23. "Believest thou not that I
am in the Father, and the Father in Me? I pray that they all may be
one, as thou Father art in Me, and I in Thee." Athanasius (Oratio,
iii. 21) remarks that Christ here prays that the disciples "may
imitate the trinitarian unity of essence, in their unity of
affection." Had it been possible for the disciples to be in the
essence of the Father as the Son is, he would have prayed that they
all may be "one in Thee," instead of "one in Us." The Platonists,
also, employed this figure of circulatory movement, to explain the
self-reflecting and self-communing nature of the human mind. "It is
not possible for us to know what our souls are, but only by their
kineseis kuklikai, their circular and reflex motions and converse with
themselves, which only can steal from them their own secrets." J.
Smith: Immortality of the Soul, Ch. ii. Augustin's illustration,
however, is imperfect, because "the three things" which circulate are
not "each of them severally a substance." Only one of them, namely,
the mind, is a substance.--W.G.T.S.]
Chapter 6.--There is One Knowledge of the Thing in the Thing Itself,
and Another in Eternal Truth Itself. That Corporeal Things, Too, are
to Be Judged the Rules of Eternal Truth.
9. But when the human mind knows itself and loves itself, it does not
know and love anything unchangeable: and each individual man declares
his own particular mind by one manner of speech, when he considers
what takes place in himself; but defines the human mind abstractly by
special or general knowledge. And so, when he speaks to me of his own
individual mind, as to whether he understands this or that, or does
not understand it, or whether he wishes or does not wish this or that,
I believe; but when he speaks the truth of the mind of man generally
or specially, I recognize and approve. Whence it is manifest, that
each sees a thing in himself, in such way that another person may
believe what he says of it, yet may not see it; but another [sees a
thing] in the truth itself, in such way that another person also can
gaze upon it; of which the former undergoes changes at successive
times, the latter consists in an unchangeable eternity. For we do not
gather a generic or specific knowledge of the human mind by means of
resemblance by seeing many minds with the eyes of the body: but we
gaze upon indestructible truth, from which to define perfectly, as far
as we can, not of what sort is the mind of any one particular man, but
of what sort it ought to be upon the eternal plan.
10. Whence also, even in the case of the images of things corporeal
which are drawn in through the bodily sense, and in some way infused
into the memory, from which also those things which have not been seen
are thought under a fancied image, whether otherwise than they really
are, or even perchance as they are;--even here too, we are proved
either to accept or reject, within ourselves, by other rules which
remain altogether unchangeable above our mind, when we approve or
reject anything rightly. For both when I recall the walls of Carthage
which I have seen, and imagine to myself the walls of Alexandria which
I have not seen, and, in preferring this to that among forms which in
both cases are imaginary, make that preference upon grounds of reason;
the judgment of truth from above is still strong and clear, and rests
firmly upon the utterly indestructible rules of its own right; and if
it is covered as it were by cloudiness of corporeal images, yet is not
wrapt up and confounded in them.
11. But it makes a difference, whether, under that or in that
darkness, I am shut off as it were from the clear heaven; or whether
(as usually happens on lofty mountains), enjoying the free air between
both, I at once look up above to the calmest light, and down below
upon the densest clouds. For whence is the ardor of brotherly love
kindled in me, when I hear that some man has borne bitter torments for
the excellence and steadfastness of faith? And if that man is shown to
me with the finger, I am eager to join myself to him, to become
acquainted with him, to bind him to myself in friendship. And
accordingly, if opportunity offers, I draw near, I address him, I
converse with him, I express my goodwill towards him in what words I
can, and wish that in him too in turn should be brought to pass and
expressed goodwill towards me; and I endeavor after a spiritual
embrace in the way of belief, since I cannot search out so quickly and
discern altogether his innermost heart. I love therefore the faithful
and courageous man with a pure and genuine love. But if he were to
confess to me in the course of conversation, or were through
unguardedness to show in any way, that either he believes something
unseemly of God, and desires also something carnal in Him, and that he
bore these torments on behalf of such an error, or from the desire of
money for which he hoped, or from empty greediness of human praise:
immediately it follows that the love with which I was borne towards
him, displeased, and as it were repelled, and taken away from an
unworthy man, remains in that form, after which, believing him such as
I did, I had loved him; unless perhaps I have come to love him to this
end, that he may become such, while I have found him not to be such in
fact. And in that man, too, nothing is changed: although it can be
changed, so that he may become that which I had believed him to be
already. But in my mind there certainly is something changed, viz.,
the estimate I had formed of him, which was before of one sort, and
now is of another: and the same love, at the bidding from above of
unchangeable righteousness, is turned aside from the purpose of
enjoying, to the purpose of taking counsel. But the form itself of
unshaken and stable truth, wherein I should have enjoyed the fruition
of the man, believing him to be good, and wherein likewise I take
counsel that he may be good, sheds in an immoveable eternity the same
light of incorruptible and most sound reason, both upon the sight of
my mind, and upon that cloud of images, which I discern from above,
when I think of the same man whom I had seen. Again, when I call back
to my mind some arch, turned beautifully and symmetrically, which, let
us say, I saw at Carthage; a certain reality that had been made known
to the mind through the eyes, and transferred to the memory, causes
the imaginary view. But I behold in my mind yet another thing,
according to which that work of art pleases me; and whence also, if it
displeased me, I should correct it. We judge therefore of those
particular things according to that [form of eternal truth], and
discern that form by the intuition of the rational mind. But those
things themselves we either touch if present by the bodily sense, or
if absent remember their images as fixed in our memory, or picture, in
the way of likeness to them, such things as we ourselves also, if we
wished and were able, would laboriously build up: figuring in the mind
after one fashion the images of bodies, or seeing bodies through the
body; but after another, grasping by simple intelligence what is above
the eye of the mind, viz., the reasons and the unspeakably beautiful
skill of such forms.
Chapter 7.--We Conceive and Beget the Word Within, from the Things We
Have Beheld in the Eternal Truth. The Word, Whether of the Creature or
of the Creator, is Conceived by Love.
12. We behold, then, by the sight of the mind, in that eternal truth
from which all things temporal are made, the form according to which
we are, and according to which we do anything by true and right
reason, either in ourselves, or in things corporeal; and we have the
true knowledge of things, thence conceived, as it were as a word
within us, and by speaking we beget it from within; nor by being born
does it depart from us. And when we speak to others, we apply to the
word, remaining within us, the ministry of the voice or of some bodily
sign, that by some kind of sensible remembrance some similar thing may
be wrought also in the mind of him that hears,--similar, I say, to
that which does not depart from the mind of him that speaks. We do
nothing, therefore, through the members of the body in our words and
actions, by which the behavior of men is either approved or blamed,
which we do not anticipate by a word uttered within ourselves. For no
one willingly does anything, which he has not first said in his heart.
13. And this word is conceived by love, either of the creature or of
the Creator, that is, either of changeable nature or of unchangeable
truth. [707]
Footnotes
[707] [The inward production of a thought in the finite essence of the
human spirit which is expressed outwardly in a spoken word, is
analogous to the eternal generation of the Eternal Wisdom in the
infinite essence of God expressed in the Eternal Word. Both are alike,
in that something spiritual issues from something spiritual, without
division or diminution of substance. But a thought of the human mind
is not an objective thing or substance; while the Eternal Word
is.--W.G.T.S.]
Chapter 8.--In What Desire and Love Differ.
[Conceived] therefore, either by desire or by love: not that the
creature ought not to be loved; but if that love [of the creature] is
referred to the Creator, then it will not be desire (cupiditas), but
love (charitas). For it is desire when the creature is loved for
itself. And then it does not help a man through making use of it, but
corrupts him in the enjoying it. When, therefore, the creature is
either equal to us or inferior, we must use the inferior in order to
God, but we must enjoy the equal duly in God. For as thou oughtest to
enjoy thyself, not in thyself, but in Him who made thee, so also him
whom thou lovest as thyself. Let us enjoy, therefore, both ourselves
and our brethren in the Lord; and hence let us not dare to yield, and
as it were to relax, ourselves to ourselves in the direction
downwards. Now a word is born, when, being thought out, it pleases us
either to the effect of sinning, or to that of doing right. Therefore
love, as it were a mean, conjoins our word and the mind from which it
is conceived, and without any confusion binds itself as a third with
them, in an incorporeal embrace.
Chapter 9.--In the Love of Spiritual Things the Word Born is the Same
as the Word Conceived. It is Otherwise in the Love of Carnal Things.
14. But the word conceived and the word born are the very same when
the will finds rest in knowledge itself, as is the case in the love of
spiritual things. For instance, he who knows righteousness perfectly,
and loves it perfectly, is already righteous; even if no necessity
exist of working according to it outwardly through the members of the
body. But in the love of carnal and temporal things, as in the
offspring of animals, the conception of the word is one thing, the
bringing forth another. For here what is conceived by desiring is born
by attaining. Since it does not suffice to avarice to know and to love
gold, except it also have it; nor to know and love to eat, or to lie
with any one, unless also one does it; nor to know and love honors and
power, unless they actually come to pass. Nay, all these things, even
if obtained, do not suffice. "Whosoever drinketh of this water," He
says, "shall thirst again." [708] And so also the Psalmist, "He hath
conceived pain and brought forth iniquity." [709] And he speaks of
pain or labor as conceived, when those things are conceived which it
is not sufficient to know and will, and when the mind burns and grows
sick with want, until it arrives at those things, and, as it were,
brings them forth. Whence in the Latin language we have the word
"parta" used elegantly for both "reperta" and "comperta," which words
sound as if derived from bringing forth. [710] Since "lust, when it
hath conceived, bringeth forth sin." [711] Wherefore the Lord
proclaims, "Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden;" [712]
and in another place "Woe unto them that are with child, and to them
that give suck, in those days!" [713] And when therefore He referred
all either right actions or sins to the bringing forth of the word,
"By thy mouth," [714] He says, "thou shalt be justified, and by thy
mouth [715] thou shalt be condemned," [716] intending thereby not the
visible mouth, but that which is within and invisible, of the thought
and of the heart.
Footnotes
[708] John iv. 13
[709] Ps. vii. 14
[710] Partus
[711] Jas. i. 15
[712] Matt. xi. 28
[713] Matt. xxiv. 19
[714] Words.
[715] Words.--A.V.
[716] Matt. xii. 37
Chapter 10.--Whether Only Knowledge that is Loved is the Word of the
Mind.
15. It is rightly asked then, whether all knowledge is a word, or only
knowledge that is loved. For we also know the things which we hate;
but what we do not like, cannot be said to be either conceived or
brought forth by the mind. For not all things which in anyway touch
it, are conceived by it; but some only reach the point of being known,
but yet are not spoken as words, as for instance those of which we
speak now. For those are called words in one way, which occupy spaces
of time by their syllables, whether they are pronounced or only
thought; and in another way, all that is known is called a word
imprinted on the mind, as long as it can be brought forth from the
memory and defined, even though we dislike the thing itself; and in
another way still, when we like that which is conceived in the mind.
And that which the apostle says, must be taken according to this last
kind of word, "No man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy
Ghost;" [717] since those also say this, but according to another
meaning of the term "word," of whom the Lord Himself says, "Not every
one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of
heaven." [718] Nay, even in the case of things which we hate, when we
rightly dislike and rightly censure them, we approve and like the
censure bestowed upon them, and it becomes a word. Nor is it the
knowledge of vices that displeases us, but the vices themselves. For I
like to know and define what intemperance is; and this is its word.
Just as there are known faults in art, and the knowledge of them is
rightly approved, when a connoisseur discerns the species or the
privation of excellence, as to affirm and deny that it is or that it
is not; yet to be without excellence and to fall away into fault, is
worthy of condemnation. And to define intemperance, and to say its
word, belongs to the art of morals; but to be intemperate belongs to
that which that art censures. Just as to know and define what a
solecism is, belongs to the art of speaking; but to be guilty of one,
is a fault which the same art reprehends. A word, then, which is the
point we wish now to discern and intimate, is knowledge together with
love. Whenever, then, the mind knows and loves itself, its word is
joined to it by love. And since it loves knowledge and knows love,
both the word is in love and love is in the word, and both are in him
who loves and speaks. [719]
Footnotes
[717] 1 Cor. xii. 3
[718] Matt. vii. 21
[719] [The meaning of this obscure chapter seems to be, that only what
the mind is pleased with, is the real expression and index of the
mind--its true "word." The true nature of the mind is revealed in its
sympathies. But this requires some qualification. For in the case of
contrary qualities, like right and wrong, beauty and ugliness, the
real nature of the mind is seen also in its antipathy as well as in
its sympathy; in its hatred of wrong as well as in its love of right.
Each alike is a true index of the mind, because each really implies
the other.--W.G.T.S.]
Chapter 11.--That the Image or Begotten Word of the Mind that Knows
Itself is Equal to the Mind Itself.
16. But all knowledge according to species is like the thing which it
knows. For there is another knowledge according to privation,
according to which we speak a word only when we condemn. And this
condemnation of a privation is equivalent to praise of the species,
and so is approved. The mind, then, contains some likeness to a known
species, whether when liking that species or when disliking its
privation. And hence, in so far as we know God, we are like Him, but
not like to the point of equality, since we do not know Him to the
extent of His own being. And as, when we speak of bodies by means of
the bodily sense, there arises in our mind some likeness of them,
which is a phantasm of the memory; for the bodies themselves are not
at all in the mind, when we think them, but only the likenesses of
those bodies; therefore, when we approve the latter for the former, we
err, for the approving of one thing for another is an error; yet the
image of the body in the mind is a thing of a better sort than the
species of the body itself, inasmuch as the former is in a better
nature, viz. in a living substance, as the mind is: so when we know
God, although we are made better than we were before we knew Him, and
above all when the same knowledge being also liked and worthily loved
becomes a word, and so that knowledge becomes a kind of likeness of
God; yet that knowledge is of a lower kind, since it is in a lower
nature; for the mind is creature, but God is Creator. And from this it
may be inferred, that when the mind knows and approves itself, this
same knowledge is in such way its word, as that it is altogether on a
par and equal with it, and the same; because it is neither the
knowledge of a lower essence, as of the body, nor of a higher, as of
God. And whereas knowledge bears a likeness to that which it knows,
that is, of which it is the knowledge; in this case it has perfect and
equal likeness, when the mind itself, which knows, is known. And so it
is both image and word; because it is uttered concerning that mind to
which it is equalled in knowing, and that which is begotten is equal
to the begetter.
Chapter 12.--Why Love is Not the Offspring of the Mind, as Knowledge
is So. The Solution of the Question. The Mind with the Knowledge of
Itself and the Love of Itself is the Image of the Trinity.
17. What then is love? Will it not be an image? Will it not be a word?
Will it not be begotten? For why does the mind beget its knowledge
when it knows itself, and not beget its love when it loves itself? For
if it is the cause of its own knowing, for the reason that it is
knowable, it is also the cause of its own love because it is lovable.
It is hard, then, to say why it does not beget both. For there is a
further question also respecting the supreme Trinity itself, the
omnipotent God the Creator, after whose image man is made, which
troubles men, whom the truth of God invites to the faith by human
speech; viz. why the Holy Spirit is not also to be either believed or
understood to be begotten by God the Father, so that He also may be
called a Son. And this question we are endeavoring in some way to
investigate in the human mind, in order that from a lower image, in
which our own nature itself as it were answers, upon being questioned,
in a way more familiar to ourselves, we may be able to direct a more
practised mental vision from the enlightened creature to the
unchangeable light; assuming, however, that the truth itself has
persuaded us, that as no Christian doubts the Word of God to be the
Son, so that the Holy Spirit is love. Let us return, then, to a more
careful questioning and consideration upon this subject of that image
which is the creature, that is, of the rational mind; wherein the
knowledge of some things coming into existence in time, but which did
not exist before, and the love of some things which were not loved
before, opens to us more clearly what to say: because to speech also
itself, which must be disposed in time, that thing is easier of
explanation which is comprehended in the order of time.
18. First, therefore, it is clear that a thing may possibly be
knowable, that is, such as can be known, and yet that it may be
unknown; but that it is not possible for that to be known which is not
knowable. Wherefore it must be clearly held that everything whatsoever
that we know begets at the same time in us the knowledge of itself;
for knowledge is brought forth from both, from the knower and from the
thing known. When, therefore, the mind knows itself, it alone is the
parent of its own knowledge; for it is itself both the thing known and
the knower of it. But it was knowable to itself also before it knew
itself, only the knowledge of itself was not in itself so long as it
did not know itself. In knowing itself, then, it begets a knowledge of
itself equal to itself; since it does not know itself as less than
itself is, nor is its knowledge the knowledge of the essence of some
one else, not only because itself knows, but also because it knows
itself, as we have said above. What then is to be said of love; why,
when the mind loves itself, it should not seem also to have begotten
the love of itself? For it was lovable to itself even before it loved
itself since it could love itself; just as it was knowable to itself
even before it knew itself, since it could know itself. For if it were
not knowable to itself, it never could have known itself; and so, if
it were not lovable to itself, it never could have loved itself. Why
therefore may it not be said by loving itself to have begotten its own
love, as by knowing itself it has begotten its own knowledge? Is it
because it is thereby indeed plainly shown that this is the principle
of love, whence it proceeds? for it proceeds from the mind itself,
which is lovable to itself before it loves itself, and so is the
principle of its own love by which it loves itself: but that this love
is not therefore rightly said to be begotten by the mind, as is the
knowledge of itself by which the mind knows itself, because in the
case of knowledge the thing has been found already, which is what we
call brought forth or discovered; [720] and this is commonly preceded
by an inquiry such as to find rest when that end is attained. For
inquiry is the desire of finding, or, what is the same thing, of
discovering. [721] But those things which are discovered are as it
were brought forth, whence they are like offspring; but wherein,
except in the case itself of knowledge? For in that case they are as
it were uttered and fashioned. For although the things existed already
which we found by seeking, yet the knowledge of them did not exist,
which knowledge we regard as an offspring that is born. Further, the
desire (appetitus) which there is in seeking proceeds from him who
seeks, and is in some way in suspense, and does not rest in the end
whither it is directed, except that which is sought be found and
conjoined with him who seeks. And this desire, that is,
inquiry,--although it does not seem to be love, by which that which is
known is loved, for in this case we are still striving to know,--yet
it is something of the same kind. For it can be called will
(voluntas),since every one who seeks wills (vult) to find; and if that
is sought which belongs to knowledge, every one who seeks wills to
know. But if he wills ardently and earnestly, he is said to study
(studere): a word that is most commonly employed in the case of
pursuing and obtaining any branches of learning. Therefore, the
bringing forth of the mind is preceded by some desire, by which,
through seeking and finding what we wish to know, the offspring, viz.
knowledge itself, is born. And for this reason, that desire by which
knowledge is conceived and brought forth, cannot rightly be called the
bringing forth and the offspring; and the same desire which led us to
long for the knowing of the thing, becomes the love of the thing when
known, while it holds and embraces its accepted offspring, that is,
knowledge, and unites it to its begetter. And so there is a kind of
image of the Trinity in the mind itself, and the knowledge of it,
which is its offspring and its word concerning itself, and love as a
third, and these three are one, and one substance. [722] Neither is
the offspring less, since the mind knows itself according to the
measure of its own being; nor is the love less, since it loves itself
according to the measure both of its own knowledge and of its own
being.
Footnotes
[720] "Partum" or "repertum."
[721] "Reperiendi."
[722] [It is not these three together that constitute the one
substance. The mind alone is the substance--the knowledge and the love
being only two activities of it. When the mind is not cognizing or
loving, it is still an entire mind. As previously remarked in the
annotation on IX. ii. this ternary will completely illustrate a
trinality of a certain kind, but not that of the Trinity; in which the
"tria quĉdam" are three subsistences, each of which is so substantial
as to be the subject of attributes, and to be able to employ them. The
human mind is substantial enough to possess and employ the attributes
of knowledge and love. We say that the mind knows and loves. But an
activity of the mind is not substantial enough to possess and employ
the attributes of knowledge and love. We cannot say that the loving
loves; or the loving knows; or the knowing loves, etc.--W.G.T.S.]
.
Book X.
In which there is shown to be another trinity in the mind of man, and
one that appears much more evidently, viz. in his memory,
understanding, and will.
Chapter 1.--The Love of the Studious Mind, that Is, of One Desirous to
Know, is Not the Love of a Thing Which It Does Not Know.
1. Let us now proceed, then, in due order, with a more exact purpose,
to explain this same point more thoroughly. And first, since no one
can love at all a thing of which he is wholly ignorant, we must
carefully consider of what sort is the love of those who are studious,
that is, of those who do not already know, but are still desiring to
know any branch of learning. Now certainly, in those things whereof
the word study is not commonly used, love often arises from hearsay,
when the reputation of anything for beauty inflames the mind to the
seeing and enjoying it; since the mind knows generically wherein
consist the beauties of corporeal things, from having seen them very
frequently, and since there exists within a faculty of approving that
which outwardly is longed for. And when this happens, the love that is
called forth is not of a thing wholly unknown, since its genus is thus
known. But when we love a good man whose face we never saw, we love
him from the knowledge of his virtues, which virtues we know
[abstractly] in the truth itself. But in the case of learning, it is
for the most part the authority of others who praise and commend it
that kindles our love of it; although nevertheless we could not burn
with any zeal at all for the study of it, unless we had already in our
mind at least a slight impression of the knowledge of each kind of
learning. For who, for instance, would devote any care and labor to
the learning of rhetoric, unless he knew before that it was the
science of speaking? Sometimes, again, we marvel at the results of
learning itself, which we have heard of or experienced; and hence burn
to obtain, by learning, the power of attaining these results. Just as
if it were said to one who did not know his letters, that there is a
kind of learning which enables a man to send words, wrought with the
hand in silence, to one who is ever so far absent, for him in turn to
whom they are sent to gather these words, not with his ears, but with
his eyes; and if the man were to see the thing actually done, is not
that man, since he desires to know how he can do this thing,
altogether moved to study with a view to the result which he already
knows and holds? So it is that the studious zeal of those who learn is
kindled: for that of which any one is utterly ignorant, he can in no
way love.
2. So also, if any one hear an unknown sign, as, for instance, the
sound of some word of which he does not know the signification, he
desires to know what it is; that is, he desires to know what thing it
is which it is agreed shall be brought to mind by that sound: as if he
heard the word temetum [723] uttered, and not knowing, should ask what
it is. He must then know already that it is a sign, i.e. that the word
is not an empty sound, but that something is signified by it; for in
other respects this trisyllabic word is known to him already, and has
already impressed its articulate form upon his mind through the sense
of hearing. And then what more is to be required in him, that he may
go on to a greater knowledge of that of which all the letters and all
the spaces of its several sounds are already known, unless that it
shall at the same time have become known to him that it is a sign, and
shall have also moved him with the desire of knowing of what it is the
sign? The more, then, the thing is known, yet not fully known, the
more the mind desires to know concerning it what remains to be known.
For if he knew it to be only such and such a spoken word, and did not
know that it was the sign of something, he would seek nothing further,
since the sensible thing is already perceived as far as it can be by
the sense. But because he knows it to be not only a spoken word, but
also a sign, he wishes to know it perfectly; and no sign is known
perfectly, except it be known of what it is the sign. He then who with
ardent carefulness seeks to know this, and inflamed by studious zeal
perseveres in the search; can such an one be said to be without love?
What then does he love? For certainly nothing can be loved unless it
is known. For that man does not love those three syllables which he
knows already. But if he loves this in them, that he knows them to
signify something, this is not the point now in question, for it is
not this which he seeks to know. But we are now asking what it is he
loves, in that which he is desirous to know, but which certainly he
does not yet know; and we are therefore wondering why he loves, since
we know most assuredly that nothing can be loved unless it be known.
What then does he love, except that he knows and perceives in the
reason of things what excellence there is in learning, in which the
knowledge of all signs is contained; and what benefit there is in the
being skilled in these, since by them human fellowship mutually
communicates its own perceptions, lest the assemblies of men should be
actually worse than utter solitude, if they were not to mingle their
thoughts by conversing together? The soul, then, discerns this fitting
and serviceable species, and knows it, and loves it; and he who seeks
the meaning of any words of which he is ignorant, studies to render
that species perfect in himself as much as he can: for it is one thing
to behold it in the light of truth, another to desire it as within his
own capacity. For he beholds in the light of truth how great and how
good a thing it is to understand and to speak all tongues of all
nations, and so to hear no tongue and to be heard by none as from a
foreigner. The beauty, then, of this knowledge is already discerned by
thought, and the thing being known is loved; and that thing is so
regarded, and so stimulates the studious zeal of learners, that they
are moved with respect to it, and desire it eagerly in all the labor
which they spend upon the attainment of such a capacity, in order that
they may also embrace in practice that which they know beforehand by
reason. And so every one, the nearer he approaches that capacity in
hope, the more fervently desires it with love; for those branches of
learning are studied the more eagerly, which men do not despair of
being able to attain; for when any one entertains no hope of attaining
his end, then he either loves lukewarmly or does not love at all,
howsoever he may see the excellence of it. Accordingly, because the
knowledge of all languages is almost universally felt to be hopeless,
every one studies most to know that of his own nation; but if he feels
that he is not sufficient even to comprehend this perfectly, yet no
one is so indolent in this knowledge as not to wish to know, when he
hears an unknown word, what it is, and to seek and learn it if he can.
And while he is seeking it, certainly he has a studious zeal of
learning, and seems to love a thing he does not know; but the case is
really otherwise. For that species touches the mind, which the mind
knows and thinks, wherein the fitness is clearly visible which accrues
from the associating of minds with one another, in the hearing and
returning of known and spoken words. And this species kindles studious
zeal in him who seeks what indeed he knows not, but gazes upon and
loves the unknown form to which that pertains. If then, for example,
any one were to ask, What is temetum (for I had instanced this word
already), and it were said to him, What does this matter to you? he
will answer, Lest perhaps I hear some one speaking, and understand him
not; or perhaps read the word somewhere, and know not what the writer
meant. Who, pray, would say to such an inquirer, Do not care about
understanding what you hear; do not care about knowing what you read?
For almost every rational soul quickly discerns the beauty of that
knowledge, through which the thoughts of men are mutually made known
by the enunciation of significant words; and it is on account of this
fitness thus known, and because known therefore loved, that such an
unknown word is studiously sought out. When then he hears and learns
that wine was called "temetum" by our forefathers, but that the word
is already quite obsolete in our present usage of language, he will
think perhaps that he has still need of the word on account of this or
that book of those forefathers. But if he holds these also to be
superfluous, perhaps he does now come to think the word not worth
remembering, since he sees it has nothing to do with that species of
learning which he knows with the mind, and gazes upon, and so loves.
3. Wherefore in all cases the love of a studious mind, that is, of one
that wishes to know what it does not know, is not the love of that
thing which it does not know, but of that which it knows; on account
of which it wishes to know what it does not know. Or if it is so
inquisitive as to be carried away, not for any other cause known to
it, but by the mere love of knowing things unknown; then such an
inquisitive person is, doubtless distinguishable from an ordinary
student, yet does not, any more than he, love things he does not know;
nay, on the contrary, he is more fitly said to hate things he knows
not, of which he wishes that there should be none, in wishing to know
everything. But lest any one should lay before us a more difficult
question, by declaring that it is just as impossible for any one to
hate what he does not know, as to love what he does not know, we will
not withstand what is true; but it must be understood that it is not
the same thing to say he loves to know things unknown, as to say he
loves things unknown. For it is possible that a man may love to know
things unknown; but it is not possible that he should love things
unknown. For the word to know is not placed there without meaning;
since he who loves to know things unknown, does not love the unknown
things themselves, but the knowing of them. And unless he knew what
knowing means, no one could say confidently, either that he knew or
that he did not know. For not only he who says I know, and says so
truly, must needs know what knowing is; but he also who says, I do not
know, and says so confidently and truly, and knows that he says so
truly, certainly knows what knowing is; for he both distinguishes him
who does not know from him who knows, when he looks into himself and
says truly I do not know; and whereas he knows that he says this
truly, whence should he know it, if he did not know what knowing is?
Footnotes
[723] Wine.
Chapter 2.--No One at All Loves Things Unknown.
4. No studious person, then, no inquisitive person, loves things he
does not know, even while he is urgent with the most vehement desire
to know what he does not know. For he either knows already generically
what he loves, and longs to know it also in some individual or
individuals, which perhaps are praised, but not yet known to him; and
he pictures in his mind an imaginary form by which he may be stirred
to love. And whence does he picture this, except from those things
which he has already known? And yet perhaps he will not love it, if he
find that form which was praised to be unlike that other form which
was figured and in thought most fully known to his mind. And if he has
loved it, he will begin to love it from that time when he learned it;
since a little before, that form which was loved was other than that
which the mind that formed it had been wont to exhibit to itself. But
if he shall find it similar to that form which report had proclaimed,
and to be such that he could truly say I was already loving thee; yet
certainly not even then did he love a form he did not know, since he
had known it in that likeness. Or else we see somewhat in the species
of the eternal reason, and therein love it; and when this is
manifested in some image of a temporal thing, and we believe the
praises of those who have made trial of it, and so love it, then we do
not love anything unknown, according to that which we have already
sufficiently discussed above. Or else, again, we love something known,
and on account of it seek something unknown; and so it is by no means
the love of the thing unknown that possesses us, but the love of the
thing known, to which we know the unknown thing belongs, so that we
know that too which we seek still as unknown; as a little before I
said of an unknown word. Or else, again, every one loves the very
knowing itself, as no one can fail to know who desires to know
anything. For these reasons they seem to love things unknown who wish
to know anything which they do not know, and who, on account of their
vehement desire of inquiry, cannot be said to be without love. But how
different the case really is, and that nothing at all can be loved
which is not known, I think I must have persuaded every one who
carefully looks upon truth. But since the examples which we have given
belong to those who desire to know something which they themselves are
not, we must take thought lest perchance some new notion appear, when
the mind desires to know itself.
Chapter 3.--That When the Mind Loves Itself, It is Not Unknown to
Itself.
5. What, then, does the mind love, when it seeks ardently to know
itself, whilst it is still unknown to itself? For, behold, the mind
seeks to know itself, and is excited thereto by studious zeal. It
loves, therefore; but what does it love? Is it itself? But how can
this be when it does not yet know itself, and no one can love what he
does not know? Is it that report has declared to it its own species,
in like way as we commonly hear of people who are absent? Perhaps,
then, it does not love itself, but loves that which it imagines of
itself, which is perhaps widely different from what itself is: or if
the phantasy in the mind is like the mind itself, and so when it loves
this fancied image, it loves itself before it knew itself, because it
gazes upon that which is like itself; then it knew other minds from
which to picture itself, and so is known to itself generically. Why,
then, when it knows other minds, does it not know itself, since
nothing can possibly be more present to it than itself? But if, as
other eyes are more known to the eyes of the body, than those eyes are
to themselves; then let it not seek itself, because it never will find
itself. For eyes can never see themselves except in looking-glasses;
and it cannot be supposed in any way that anything of that kind can be
applied also to the contemplation of incorporeal things, so that the
mind should know itself, as it were, in a looking-glass. Or does it
see in the reason of eternal truth how beautiful it is to know one's
self, and so loves this which it sees, and studies to bring it to pass
in itself? because, although it is not known to itself, yet it is
known to it how good it is, that it should be known to itself. And
this, indeed, is very wonderful, that it does not yet know itself, and
yet knows already how excellent a thing it is to know itself. Or does
it see some most excellent end, viz. its own serenity and blessedness,
by some hidden remembrance, which has not abandoned it, although it
has gone far onwards, and believes that it cannot attain to that same
end unless it know itself? And so while it loves that, it seeks this;
and loves that which is known, on account of which it seeks that which
is unknown. But why should the remembrance of its own blessedness be
able to last, and the remembrance of itself not be able to last as
well; that so it should know itself which wishes to attain, as well as
know that to which it wishes to attain? Or when it loves to know
itself, does it love, not itself, which it does not yet know, but the
very act of knowing; and feel the more annoyed that itself is wanting
to its own knowledge wherewith it wishes to embrace all things? And it
knows what it is to know; and whilst it loves this, which it knows,
desires also to know itself. Whereby, then, does it know its own
knowing, if it does not know itself? For it knows that it knows other
things, but that it does not know itself; for it is from hence that it
knows also what knowing is. In what way, then, does that which does
not know itself, know itself as knowing anything? For it does not know
that some other mind knows, but that itself does so. Therefore it
knows itself. Further, when it seeks to know itself, it knows itself
now as seeking. Therefore again it knows itself. And hence it cannot
altogether not know itself, when certainly it does so far know itself
as that it knows itself as not knowing itself. But if it does not know
itself not to know itself, then it does not seek to know itself. And
therefore, in the very fact that it seeks itself, it is clearly
convicted of being more known to itself than unknown. For it knows
itself as seeking and as not knowing itself, in that it seeks to know
itself.
Chapter 4.--How the Mind Knows Itself, Not in Part, But as a Whole.
6. What then shall we say? Does that which knows itself in part, not
know itself in part? But it is absurd to say, that it does not as a
whole know what it knows. I do not say, it knows wholly; but what it
knows, it as a whole knows. When therefore it knows anything about
itself, which it can only know as a whole, it knows itself as a whole.
But it does know that itself knows something, while yet except as a
whole it cannot know anything. Therefore it knows itself as a whole.
Further, what in it is so known to itself, as that it lives? And it
cannot at once be a mind, and not live, while it has also something
over and above, viz., that it understands: for the souls of beasts
also live, but do not understand. As therefore a mind is a whole mind,
so it lives as a whole. But it knows that it lives. Therefore it knows
itself as a whole. Lastly, when the mind seeks to know itself, it
already knows that it is a mind: otherwise it knows not whether it
seeks itself, and perhaps seeks one thing while intending to seek
another. For it might happen that itself was not a mind, and so, in
seeking to know a mind, that it did not seek to know itself. Wherefore
since the mind, when it seeks to know what mind is, knows that it
seeks itself, certainly it knows that itself is a mind. Furthermore,
if it knows this in itself, that it is a mind, and a whole mind, then
it knows itself as a whole. But suppose it did not know itself to be a
mind, but in seeking itself only knew that it did seek itself. For so,
too, it may possibly seek one thing for another, if it does not know
this: but that it may not seek one thing for another, without doubt it
knows what it seeks. But if it knows what it seeks, and seeks itself,
then certainly it knows itself. What therefore more does it seek? But
if it knows itself in part, but still seeks itself in part, then it
seeks not itself, but part of itself. For when we speak of the mind
itself, we speak of it as a whole. Further, because it knows that it
is not yet found by itself as a whole, it knows how much the whole is.
And so it seeks that which is wanting, as we are wont to seek to
recall to the mind something that has slipped from the mind, but has
not altogether gone away from it; since we can recognize it, when it
has come back, to be the same thing that we were seeking. But how can
mind come into mind, as though it were possible for the mind not to be
in the mind? Add to this, that if, having found a part, it does not
seek itself as a whole, yet it as a whole seeks itself. Therefore as a
whole it is present to itself, and there is nothing left to be sought:
for that is wanting which is sought, not the mind which seeks. Since
therefore it as a whole seeks itself, nothing of it is wanting. Or if
it does not as a whole seek itself, but the part which has been found
seeks the part which has not yet been found then the mind does not
seek itself, of which no part seeks itself. For the part which has
been found, does not seek itself; nor yet does the part itself which
has not yet been found, seek itself; since it is sought by that part
which has been already found. Wherefore, since neither the mind as a
whole seeks itself, nor does any part of it seek itself, the mind does
not seek itself at all.
Chapter 5.--Why the Soul is Enjoined to Know Itself. Whence Come the
Errors of the Mind Concerning Its Own Substance.
7. Why therefore is it enjoined upon it, that it should know itself? I
suppose, in order that, it may consider itself, and live according to
its own nature; that is, seek to be regulated according to its own
nature, viz., under Him to whom it ought to be subject, and above
those things to which it is to be preferred; under Him by whom it
ought to be ruled, above those things which it ought to rule. For it
does many things through vicious desire, as though in forgetfulness of
itself. For it sees some things intrinsically excellent, in that more
excellent nature which is God: and whereas it ought to remain
steadfast that it may enjoy them, it is turned away from Him, by
wishing to appropriate those things to itself, and not to be like to
Him by His gift, but to be what He is by its own, and it begins to
move and slip gradually down into less and less, which it thinks to be
more and more; for it is neither sufficient for itself, nor is
anything at all sufficient for it, if it withdraw from Him who is
alone sufficient: and so through want and distress it becomes too
intent upon its own actions and upon the unquiet delights which it
obtains through them: and thus, by the desire of acquiring knowledge
from those things that are without, the nature of which it knows and
loves, and which it feels can be lost unless held fast with anxious
care, it loses its security, and thinks of itself so much the less, in
proportion as it feels the more secure that it cannot lose itself. So,
whereas it is one thing not to know oneself, and another not to think
of oneself (for we do not say of the man that is skilled in much
learning, that he is ignorant of grammar, when he is only not thinking
of it, because he is thinking at the time of the art of
medicine);--whereas, then, I say it is one thing not to know oneself,
and another not to think of oneself, such is the strength of love,
that the mind draws in with itself those things which it has long
thought of with love, and has grown into them by the close adherence
of diligent study, even when it returns in some way to think of
itself. And because these things are corporeal which it loved
externally through the carnal senses; and because it has become
entangled with them by a kind of daily familiarity, and yet cannot
carry those corporeal things themselves with itself internally as it
were into the region of incorporeal nature; therefore it combines
certain images of them, and thrusts them thus made from itself into
itself. For it gives to the forming of them somewhat of its own
substance, yet preserves the while something by which it may judge
freely of the species of those images; and this something is more
properly the mind, that is, the rational understanding, which is
preserved that it may judge. For we see that we have those parts of
the soul which are informed by the likenesses of corporeal things, in
common also with beasts.
Chapter 6.--The Opinion Which the Mind Has of Itself is Deceitful.
8. But the mind errs, when it so lovingly and intimately connects
itself with these images, as even to consider itself to be something
of the same kind. For so it is conformed to them to some extent, not
by being this, but by thinking it is so: not that it thinks itself to
be an image, but outright that very thing itself of which it
entertains the image. For there still lives in it the power of
distinguishing the corporeal thing which it leaves without, from the
image of that corporeal thing which it contains therefrom within
itself: except when these images are so projected as if felt without
and not thought within, as in the case of people who are asleep, or
mad, or in a trance.
Chapter 7.--The Opinions of Philosophers Respecting the Substance of
the Soul. The Error of Those Who are of Opinion that the Soul is
Corporeal, Does Not Arise from Defective Knowledge of the Soul, But
from Their Adding There to Something Foreign to It. What is Meant by
Finding.
9. When, therefore, it thinks itself to be something of this kind, it
thinks itself to be a corporeal thing; and since it is perfectly
conscious of its own superiority, by which it rules the body, it has
hence come to pass that the question has been raised what part of the
body has the greater power in the body; and the opinion has been held
that this is the mind, nay, that it is even the whole soul altogether.
And some accordingly think it to be the blood, others the brain,
others the heart; not as the Scripture says, "I will praise Thee, O
Lord, with my whole heart;" and, "Thou shall love the Lord thy God
with all thine heart;" [724] for this word by misapplication or
metaphor is transferred from the body to the soul; but they have
simply thought it to be that small part itself of the body, which we
see when the inward parts are rent asunder. Others, again, have
believed the soul to be made up of very minute and individual
corpustules, which they call atoms, meeting in themselves and
cohering. Others have said that its substance is air, others fire.
Others have been of opinion that it is no substance at all, since they
could not think any substance unless it is body, and they did not find
that the soul was body; but it was in their opinion the tempering
together itself of our body, or the combining together of the
elements, by which that flesh is as it were conjoined. And hence all
of these have held the soul to be mortal; since, whether it were body,
or some combination of body, certainly it could not in either case
continue always without death. But they who have held its substance to
be some kind of life the reverse of corporeal, since they have found
it to be a life that animates and quickens every living body, have by
consequence striven also, according as each was able, to prove it
immortal, since life cannot be without life.
For as to that fifth kind of body, I know not what, which some have
added to the four well-known elements of the world, and have said that
the soul was made of this, I do not think we need spend time in
discussing it in this place. For either they mean by body what we mean
by it, viz., that of which a part is less than the whole in extension
of place, and they are to be reckoned among those who have believed
the mind to be corporeal: or if they call either all substance, or all
changeable substance, body, whereas they know that not all substance
is contained in extension of place by any length and breadth and
height, we need not contend with them about a question of words.
10. Now, in the case of all these opinions, any one who sees that the
nature of the mind is at once substance, and yet not corporeal,--that
is, that it does not occupy a less extension of place with a less part
of itself, and a greater with a greater,--must needs see at the same
time that they who are of opinion that it is corporeal [725] do not
err from defect of knowledge concerning mind, but because they
associate with it qualities without which they are not able to
conceive any nature at all. For if you bid them conceive of existence
that is without corporeal phantasms, they hold it merely nothing. And
so the mind would not seek itself, as though wanting to itself. For
what is so present to knowledge as that which is present to the mind?
Or what is so present to the mind as the mind itself? And hence what
is called "invention," if we consider the origin of the word, what
else does it mean, unless that to find out [726] is to "come into"
that which is sought? Those things accordingly which come into the
mind as it were of themselves, are not usually said to be found out,
[727] although they may be said to be known; since we did not endeavor
by seeking to come into them, that is to invent or find them out. And
therefore, as the mind itself really seeks those things which are
sought by the eyes or by any other sense of the body (for the mind
directs even the carnal sense, and then finds out or invents, when
that sense comes to the things which are sought); so, too, it finds
out or invents other things which it ought to know, not with the
medium of corporeal sense, but through itself, when it "comes into"
them; and this, whether in the case of the higher substance that is in
God, or of the other parts of the soul; just as it does when it judges
of bodily images themselves, for it finds these within, in the soul,
impressed through the body.
Footnotes
[724] Ps. ix., cxi., and cxxxviii., Deut. vi. 5, and Matt. xxii. 37
[725] [The distinction between corporeal and incorporeal substance is
one that Augustin often insists upon. See Confessions VII. i-iii. The
doctrine that all substance is extended body, and that there is no
such entity as spiritual unextended substance, is combatted by Plato
in the Theatetus. For a hist