§ 82. Augustine's Life and Place in the Western Church

Aurelius Augustinus, the greatest of the Latin fathers, was born 354, at Tagaste, in Numidia. He was educated to be a teacher of rhetoric, and practised his profession at Carthage, [pg 434] Rome, and Milan. From 374 to 383, he was a Manichæan catechumen, for although his mother, Monnica, was a Christian, his religious education had been very meagre, and he was repelled by the literary character of the Scriptures as commonly interpreted. In 387, after a long struggle, and passing through various schools of thought, he, with his son Adeodatus, were baptized at Milan by Ambrose. In 391 he became a presbyter, and in 394 bishop of Hippo Regius, a small town in North Africa. He died 430, during the Vandal invasion. Of his works, the Confessions are the most widely known, as they have become a Christian classic of edification of the first rank. They give an account of his early life and conversion, but are more useful as showing his type of piety than as a biography. From them is learned the secret of his influence upon the Western world. The literary activity of Augustine was especially developed in connection with the prolonged controversies, in which he was engaged throughout his episcopate (see §§ [83], [84]), but he wrote much in addition to controversial treatises. The group of characteristic doctrines known as “Augustinianism,” viz.: Original Sin, Predestination, and Grace and the doctrines connected with them, were, to a large extent, the outcome of his own religious experience. He had known the power and depth of sin. He had discovered the hand of God leading him in spite of himself. He knew that his conversion was due, not to his own effort or merit, but to God's grace.

The works of Augustine have been translated in part in PNF, ser. I, vols. I-VIII. There are many translations of the Confessions; among others, one by E. B. Pusey, in “Library of the Fathers of the Holy Catholic Church,” reprinted in “Everyman's Library.”

(a) Augustine, Confessiones, VIII, 12. (MSL, 32:761.)

The conversion of Augustine.

This is, perhaps, the most famous passage in the Confessions. It came at the end of a long series of attempts to find peace in various forms of philosophy and religion. Augustine regarded it as miraculous, [pg 435] the crown and proof of the work of grace in him. The scene was in Milan, 387, in the garden of the villa he occupied with his friend Alypius. The principal obstacle to his embracing Christianity was his reluctance to abandon his licentious life. To this the reference is made in the passage from Scripture which he read, i.e., Rom. 13:13, 14.

When a profound reflection had, from the depths of my soul, drawn together and heaped up all my misery before the sight of my heart, there arose a mighty storm, accompanied by as mighty a shower of tears. That I might pour it all forth in its own words I arose from beside Alypius; for solitude suggested itself to me as fitter for the business of weeping. So I retired to such a distance that even his presence could not be oppressive to me. Thus it was with me at that time, and he perceived it; for something, I believe, I had spoken, wherein the sound of my voice appeared choked with weeping, and thus I had risen up. He then remained where we had been sitting, very greatly astonished. I flung myself down, I know not how, under a certain fig-tree, giving free course to my tears, and the streams of my eyes gushed out, an acceptable sacrifice unto Thee. And not indeed in these words, yet to this effect, spake I much unto Thee—“But Thou, O Lord, how long?” [Psalm 13:1]. “How long, Lord? Wilt Thou be angry forever? Oh, remember not against us former iniquities” [Psalm 79:5, 8]; for I felt that I was held fast by them. I sent up these sorrowful cries: “How long, how long? To-morrow, and to-morrow? Why not now? Why is there not this hour an end to my uncleanness?”

I was saying these things and was weeping in the most bitter contrition of my heart, when, lo, I hear the voice as of a boy or girl, I know not which, coming from a neighboring house, chanting and oft repeating: “Take up and read; take up and read.” Immediately my countenance was changed, and I began most earnestly to consider whether it was usual for children in any kind of game to sing such words; nor could I remember ever to have heard the like anywhere. So, restraining the torrent of my tears, I rose up, interpreting it in no other way than as a command to me from Heaven to [pg 436] open the book and read the first chapter I should light upon. For I had heard of Anthony [see also [§ 77, e]], that accidentally coming in whilst the Gospel was being read, he received the admonition as if what was read was addressed to him: “Go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come and follow me” [Matt. 19:21]. And by such oracle was he forthwith converted unto Thee. So quickly I returned to the place where Alypius was sitting; for there had I put down the volume of the Apostles, when I rose thence. I seized, I opened, and in silence I read that paragraph on which my eye first fell: “Not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying; but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh to fulfil the lusts thereof” [Rom. 13:13, 14]. No further would I read; there was no need; for instantly, as the sentence ended, by a light, as it were, of security infused into my heart, all the gloom of doubt vanished away.

Closing the book, then, and putting either my finger between, or some other mark, I now with a tranquil countenance made it known to Alypius. And he thus disclosed to me what was wrong in him, which I knew not. He asked to look at what I had read. I showed him; and he looked even further than I had read, and I knew not what followed. This, in fact, followed: “Him that is weak in the faith, receive ye” [Rom. 14:1]; which he applied to himself, and discovered to me. By this admonition was he strengthened; and by a good resolution and purpose, very much in accord with his character (wherein, for the better, he was always far different from me), without any restless delay he joined me. Thence we go to my mother. We tell her—she rejoices. We relate how it came to pass—she exults and triumphs, and she blesses Thee, who art “able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think” [Eph. 3:20]; for she perceived Thee to have given her more for me than she used to ask by her pitiful and most doleful groanings. For Thou didst so convert me [pg 437] unto Thyself, that I sought neither a wife, nor any other hope of this world—standing in that rule of faith in which Thou, so many years before, had showed me unto her. And thou didst turn her grief unto gladness [Psalm 30:11], much more plentiful than she had desired, and much dearer and chaster than she used to crave, by having grandchildren of my flesh.