shouldest deliver him to his mother" (S. Luke vii. 14, 15). Her heart then shook with no tumultuous exultation, when she heard that what she daily with tears desired of Thee, was already in so great part accomplished; in that, though I had not yet attained unto the truth, I was already delivered from falsehood; but now because she was confident that Thou, who hadst promised the whole, wouldest give what yet remained, most calmly, and with an heart full of confidence, she replied to me, "She believed in Christ, that before she departed out of this life, she should see me a faithful Catholic." Thus much to me. But to Thee, Fountain of mercies, poured she forth more copious prayers and tears, that Thou wouldest hasten Thy help, and lighten my darkness; and she hastened the more eagerly to the Church, and hung upon the lips of Ambrose, for "the fountain of that water, which springeth up into everlasting life" (S. John iv. 14). But that man she loved " as an angel of God" (Gal. iv. 14), because she knew that by him I had been brought for a while to that present state of wavering doubt, through which she anticipated most confidently that I should pass from sickness unto health, after a sharper danger had intervened, as by that increase of fever, which physicians call "the crisis."

CHAPTER II.

She discontinues her habit of commemorating martyrs, on account of the prohibition of Ambrose.

WHEN

HEN then my mother had once, as she was wont in Africa, brought to the memorials of the Saints, certain cakes, and bread and wine, and was forbidden by the door-keeper; so soon as she knew that the Bishop had forbidden this, she so piously and obediently embraced his wishes, that I myself wondered how readily she censured her own practice, rather than dispute his prohibition. For wine-bibbing did not lay siege to her spirit, nor was love of wine, in her case, a stimulant to hate of truth, as it is with too many, both men and women, who loathe the praise of sobriety, as drunken men do a watered cup. But she, when she had brought her basket with the accustomed festivalfood, to be but tasted by herself, and then given away, never

joined therewith more than one small cup of wine, diluted according to her own abstemious habits, from which she would partake to their honour. And if there were many memorials of the departed that were to be honoured in that manner, she would carry round that same one cup, to be used everywhere; and this, though not only made very watery, but unpleasantly heated, she would share by small sips, with those about her; for she sought there devotion, not pleasure. So soon, then, as she found that it was ordered by that famous preacher and pious prelate that this should not be done, even by those who would do it soberly, lest any occasion of excess might be given to the drunken; and because these commemorations were very similar to the superstitious Gentile rites of ancestor worship, she most willingly abstained from it, and learned to bear to the memorials of the martyrs, instead of a basket filled with the fruits of the earth, a breast filled with purer offerings: and she would give what she could to the poor, and thus would be celebrated the Communion of the Lord's Body, in imitation of whose passion the martyrs were slain and crowned. But yet it seems to me, O Lord, my God, and thus thinks my heart of it in Thy sight, that possibly my mother would not have yielded so readily to the restriction of this custom, had it been forbidden by another, whom she loved not as Ambrose, whom, for my salvation, she particularly loved; and he her again, for her most religious conversation, whereby in good works, so "fervent in spirit," she was constant at church; so that, when he saw me, he often burst forth into her praises; congratulating me, that I had such a mother; not knowing what a son she had in me, who doubted of all these things, and little thought that the way of life could be found out.

CHAPTER III.

On account of the pressure of business and study upon Ambrose, Augustine had few opportunities of consulting him concerning Holy Scripture.

NOR did I yet groan in my prayers, that Thou wouldest

help me; but my mind was bent on enquiry, and restless for controversy. And Ambrose himself, as the

world counts happy, I esteemed a happy man, for so many persons of position held him in honour; only his celibacy seemed to me burdensome. But what the hope he bore within, what the conflict against the temptations which beset his very excellence, what the consolation in adversities, and what the joys he tasted with that hidden mouth of the heart, when ruminating upon Thy Bread, I could know neither by conjecture nor by experience: nor did he know the tides of my feelings, or the abyss of my danger. For I could not ask of him, what I would as I would, being hindered by the crowds of people full of business, to whose infirmities he used to minister, from either speech or hearing from him; and when he was not surrounded by them, which was but a very little time, he was either refreshing his body with the sustenance absolutely necessary, or his mind with reading. But when he was reading, his eyes scanned the pages, and his heart explored the sense, but his voice and tongue were at rest. Ofttimes when we had come (for no one was forbidden to enter, nor was it the custom that a visitor should be announced to him), we saw him thus reading in silence, and never otherwise; and having long sat silent (for who could dare be troublesome to one so wrapt?) we used to depart, conjecturing, that in the small interval, which he obtained, free from the din of others' business, for the recruiting of his mind, he was loath to be taken off; and perchance he was afraid lest it might become necessary to explain to some keen and attentive listener anything obscurely expressed by the author he was reading; or to enter upon some discussion of more difficult questions; and if so he should spend his time, he would turn over fewer volumes than he desired, though the necessity of preserving his voice, which was very easily injured, was possibly the truer reason for his reading to himself. But with what intent soever he did it, certainly in such a man it was good.

But no full opportunity of consulting that holy oracle of Thine, his breast, was afforded me, unless some brief audience might suffice. But my anxieties required that he to whom they should be outpoured should have ample leisure, and never found it. I heard him indeed every Lord's day, "rightly handling the Word of truth" (2 Tim. ii. 15), among the people; and I was more and more convinced, that all the knots of those crafty calumnies, which

those our deceivers had tangled against the Divine Books, could be unravelled. But when I understood withal, that "man created by Thee, after Thine own image" (Gen. i. 27), was not so understood by Thy spiritual sons, whom of the Catholic Mother Thou hast regenerated through grace, as though they believed and conceived of Thee as contained within the form of a human body; although in what manner spiritual substance could exist, I could form not the slightest or most shadowy notion; even in my joy I reddened with the shame of having for so many years barked against, not the Catholic faith, but against the figments of my own carnal conceptions. For so rash and impious had I been, that what I ought to have said in the way of enquiry, I had said in the way of condemnation. For Thou, Most High, and most near; most secret, and most present; Who hast not limbs some larger, some smaller, but art wholly every where, and art nowhere comprehended in space; Thou art not indeed of bodily form, yet hast Thou made man after Thine own image; and behold, from head to foot he is contained in space.

CHAPTER IV.

He discovered the falsehood of his own opinions, and committed to memory a saying of Ambrose.

SINCE

INCE, then, I knew not how this Thy image could subsist, I should have knocked and enquired in what manner it was to be believed, not insultingly opposed it, as if it were believed as I imagined: therefore the more sharply the doubt, as to what I should hold for certain, gnawed my heart, the more ashamed I was, that so long deluded and deceived by the promise of certainties, I had with childish error and vehemence, prated of so many uncertainties as if they were certainties. For that they were falsehoods became clear to me later. However I was certain that they were uncertain, and that I had formerly accounted them certain, when with a blind contentiousness, I condemned Thy Catholic Church, which I had by this time discovered to teach, if not the truth, at any rate not to teach those things for which I had so seriously condemned her. So I was confounded and converted: and I joyed, O my God,

that the One Only Church, the body of Thine Only Son (wherein the name of Christ had been put upon me as an infant), had no taste for infantine conceits: and that in her sound doctrine she did not hold any tenet which should confine Thee, the Creator of all, in space, however great and large, yet bounded every where by the shape of human limbs.

I joyed also, that the old Scriptures of the law and the Prophets, were laid before me, not now to be perused with that eye to which before they seemed absurd, when I reviled Thy saints for thinking what indeed they never thought; and with joy I heard Ambrose in his sermons to the people, oftentimes most diligently recommend as a rule, this saying, "The letter killeth, but the Spirit giveth life" (2 Cor. iii. 6); when, having drawn aside the mystic veil, he would open those passages spiritually, which according to the letter seemed to teach something unsound; teaching herein nothing that offended me, though I did not yet know whether what he taught were true. For I withheld my heart from all assent, dreading a downfall: and came nearer being killed by the suspense. For I wished to be as assured of the things I saw not, as I was that seven and three are ten. For I was not so mad, as to think that even this could not be comprehended; but I desired to have other things as clear as this, whether things corporeal, which were not present to my senses, or spiritual, whereof I knew not how to conceive, except corporeally. And by believing might I have been cured, that so my clearer mental vision might in some way be directed to Thy truth, which abideth always, and in no part faileth. But as it happens that one, who has tried a bad physician, fears to trust himself to a good one, so was it with the health of my soul, which could not be healed but by believing, and for fear of believing falsehoods, refused to be cured; resisting Thy hands, who hast prepared the medicines of faith, and hast adapted them to the diseases of the whole world, and imparted to them so powerful an efficacy.