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Updated: June 24, 2025
I cannot, will not believe that these considerations have no weight with you. But a truce to complaints. I will hope that you have written, and that some accident has detained the letter. Your misfortunes so engrossed me, that I forgot to inquire about Augustine's horses; and to give a caution, which I believe is needless, about the blank checks.
Of this endeavour, the animating labours and afflictions of early Christianity, the touching asceticism of mediaeval Christianity, are the great historical manifestations. Literary monuments of it, each, in its own way, incomparable, remain in the Epistles of St. Paul, in St. Augustine's Confessions, and in the two original and simplest books of the Imitation.*
Presently, seeing a volume of Augustine's Confessions, her favourite book, lying beside her, he took it up, turning over the pages, and weaving passages together as they caught his eye. 'Speak to me, for Thy compassion's sake, O Lord my God, and tell me what art Thou to me! Say unto my soul, "I am thy salvation!" Speak it that I may hear.
It may be that the earlier Norman bishop and monks valued the greatest of St. Augustine's fellow missionaries a foreigner, like themselves, working here for the church more highly than his successor in the bishopric and fellow saint, who belonged to the recently conquered and still despised English, and whose great glory was that of being the first bishop of their race.
But they were Thine, and I knew it not. I ran headlong with such blindness that amongst my equals I was ashamed of being less shameless than others when I heard them boast of their wickedness. I would even say I had done what I had not done that I might not seem contemptible exactly in proportion as I was innocent. II. Monica's Prayers and Augustine's Paganism
If we glance back from what Augustine says here to the original passages in the Gospel just quoted, we see what a remarkable alteration he makes. Of the first passage only the last sentence is taken, and this in Augustine's mind is fused into one with the second passage. Thereby the admonition of Christ through one's own effort to become as one once was as a child disappears completely.
His insertion, however, into this picture, was a whim of the artist, whose cosmopolitan theory led him to believe that one man is, as a rule, quite as good as another, and that paintings are always appreciated best when they refer to people whom you know. There are three of those very terrible places called confessionals at St. Augustine's, and one day not so long since we visited all of them.
Not the conventional judgments of society, expressed through the commands of Church or State, but the individual conscience, justified by faith in God's purpose, determines a man's merit. St. Augustine's ideal City of God was thus once more set over against the visible secular world of man.
"How secret art Thou who dwellest in the highest heavens in silence, that bringest penal blindnesses on such as have unbridled desires," quotes Emerson from Augustine's confessions.
"It is like none I've seen no." Tybalt shook his head sorrowfully, and did not answer. St. Augustine's, Canterbury, had given him its licentiate's hood, the Bishop of Rupert's Land had ordained him, and the North had swallowed him up. Indian camps, trappers' huts, and Company's posts had given him hospitality, and had heard him with patience and consideration.
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