only that warm element is taken away, which perhaps the mind itself draws away with it, if it migrates from place to place. This I say in the meantime concerning the body. It also seems to me that, if the mind while placed in the body, as I have already said, is invigorated and employs a strenuous intention of thought, how much more, being set free, will it be unencumbered, agile, invigorated, strenuous, fervent, intent, and be rendered more capacious and better — so that, having tasted virtue while placed in the body, once the body is laid aside, as though the cloud were wiped away, it becomes wholly serene, and, set in tranquillity without temptation, it may see what it desired, embrace what it loved, and recall its friends both those whom it had already sent ahead and those whom it left behind after itself. Perhaps it is so; I do not know, I seek to learn.
But it sufficiently disturbs me if the soul itself receives a certain drowsiness, so that it is such as when it sleeps while placed in the body — as though buried and living only in hope, but otherwise doing nothing, knowing nothing — most of all if it is beaten by no dream. This thing vehemently terrifies me and points, as it were, to an extinguished soul. This too I ask: if it should be traced out that it has a body, whether it also lacks no sense. Certainly, if the necessity of smelling cannot, as I think, be brought to bear upon it, nor that of tasting, nor even of touching, I doubt whether that of seeing and hearing remains. For what is it that demons are said to hear — not in the men whom they vex (for concerning these too there is a question), but even when they appear in their own bodies?
But as to sight — how do they pass from place to place, if they have a body, if they lack a visible sense as their guide? Do you think human souls are not so, when they go forth from bodies, that they both have some body and do not lack some sense? What too is that which many dead have been seen to enter houses just as they were wont, either by day or by night, by those keeping watch, by those walking about — I have not heard this only once — and that which is said very often to happen in a certain part of the night, in the places where bodies have been buried, and especially in the basilicas, that there arise tumults, prayers? For I do not remember to have heard this from one man only;
for a certain holy priest is witness of this vision, who observed a multitude of such persons going forth from the baptistery in luminous bodies, and afterwards prayers in the very midst of the church itself. All these things, therefore, either favour our inquiry, or, if they are fables, yet I should marvellously wish to know something out of this matter, because they come and visit and are seen, apart from dreams. Out of which another question arises. For I am not now concerned with the fantasy which the untaught heart fashions for itself: I speak of visitations. As Joseph appeared through a dream, as very many have been visited, so therefore our own, whom we have sent ahead, sometimes come, themselves appear through a dream, and speak.
For I remember that I myself saw both Profuturus and Privatus and Servilius — holy men, whom I remember to have gone before me from the monastery — speaking to me, and it came to pass just as they said. Or if there is some better spirit which assumes their likeness and visits the mind, let Him see to it, to whom all things are bared from the topmost neck. If therefore the Lord shall deign to speak anything through reason concerning all these matters to your holiness, I beg that you may deign to make me a partaker of this knowledge. But I did not wish to pass over this either; for perhaps it pertains to my inquiry. The very boy of whom we are speaking, at the time when he was being dissolved, being displayed in a certain manner, goes forth.
For his fellow-pupil and fellow-reader, with whom he used to take dictation with me, who had already been taken from the body eight months before, appears through a dream to have come. When he was asked by the one who was then beholding him why he had come, that one said: 「I have come to lead my friend away from here.」 And so it came to pass. For in that same house a man appeared to a certain old man who was almost awake, carrying laurel in his hand, and a writing. And to this is added further that, after the boy's departure, his father the priest, together with the old man Theasius, had begun to be in the monastery for the sake of consoling himself; but on the third day after the boy's death, the same boy is seen to have entered the monastery, and is asked by a certain brother through a dream whether he knew that he had died;
he said that he knew; and being asked whether he had been received by God, this too he reported with great thanksgiving; and when the cause was inquired, why he had come, that one then said: 「I have been sent to bring forth my father.」 The one to whom these things were being shown awakes and relates them. It reached even to the ear of bishop Theasius, who, greatly moved, rebuked the one who spoke, lest it should easily reach the ear of the priest and he be troubled by such a message. Why say more? After perhaps four days from the visitation, while he was speaking — for he had felt a slight fever, there was no danger, the physician was absent, who testified that there was utterly no cause for concern — yet as soon as he reclined upon the bed, the same priest was dissolved.
Nor do I keep silent that on this very day on which the boy was being dissolved, he sought his father for the kiss of peace, and sought it a third time, and at each kiss said to his father: 「Together let us give thanks to God,」 and urged his father to say it likewise with him, as though exhorting him in common to migrate out of this life. For between the two there are counted seven intervening days. What shall become of such great matters? Who will be the most faithful master of these hidden causes? The surging of my heart has poured itself out to you in a time of distress. The ordering of the departure of the boy and of his father is manifest, because two sparrows will not fall to the ground without the Father's will. Therefore that the soul can by no means be entirely without every body, this matter, as I think, shows, since God alone is always without every body.
But that after its passing the soul will be all the more vigilant, I judge that the laying aside of so great a corporeal mass shows; for then, in action and cognition set free from so great a bond, it appears, as I think, more excellent, and all that spiritual rest shows it free from all disturbances and errors — it does not make it flabby, but as it were sluggish and torpid and entangled — nay rather, it suffices it to enjoy even that very liberty which it has attained, when it lacks world and body; for you wisely said that it is fed by understanding and sets its spiritual mouth to the fountain of life, where it is happy and blessed by the proper condition of its own mind.
For once I saw brother Servilius after his departure through a dream, while I was still placed there in the monastery ......... , that we labour through reason to strive toward understanding, but that he and such as he remain in the very delight of contemplation. I also ask that you show me in how many ways wisdom is spoken of: as God is wisdom, as a wise mind is wisdom, in what manner it is said as light, as the wisdom of Bezalel, who fashioned the tabernacle or the perfumer's work, as the wisdom of Solomon, or if there is any other; and how they differ from one another;
and whether that one eternal wisdom with the Father is to be understood in these degrees, in the manner in which the diverse gifts of the Holy Spirit are spoken of, who divides to each his own as he wills; or whether, apart from that sole wisdom which was not made, these were made and have their own substance, or whether they were effected and received their name from the definition of the work. I inquire into many things; may the Lord grant you both the grace of finding, and the wisdom of dictating, and of writing to us swiftly. I have written unskilfully and rustically; but since you deign to know what I ask, I beseech you through Christ the Lord, that in these matters you correct me and teach me what you perceive I desire to know. 159.
To the lord most blessed and venerable and desirable brother and my fellow-priest Evodius, and to the brethren with you, Augustine and the brethren with me send greeting in the Lord. This brother, Barbarus by name, is a servant of God long since established at Hippo, and a fervent and studious hearer of the word of God. He desired our letters to your holiness, in which we commend him to you in the Lord and by him render to you the greeting that is due. But to answer the letters of your holiness, in which you have woven together enormous questions, is most laborious even for men at leisure and endowed with a far greater faculty of discoursing and keenness of understanding than we are.
Indeed, of your two letters, in which you inquire into many and great matters, one somehow went astray and, though long sought, could not be found; but the other, which was found, contains the most delightful commendation of a good and chaste young man, a servant of God — how he migrated out of this life, and by what attestations of the brethren's visions his merit could be intimated to you. Then, from this occasion, you propound and turn over the most obscure question concerning the soul: whether it goes forth from the body with some body, by which it can be carried to corporeal places or be contained in corporeal places.
The treatment of this matter, therefore — if indeed it can be examined to clarity by such men as we are — demands the most busy care and labour, and through this a mind most free from these occupations. But if you wish briefly to hear what seems to me, I in no way judge that the soul goes forth from the body with a body. But as for how those visions and predictions of things to come come about, let him now try to explain it who knows by what power such great things are effected in each mind when it thinks. For we see, and plainly discern, that in it there come to be innumerable images of many visible things and of things pertaining to the other senses of the body — which now it does not matter whether they come to be in orderly or confused fashion;
but only that they come to be, which is manifest. By what power and in what manner they come to be — whoever shall have been able to explain it (all of which things are certainly daily and continuous) — let him dare to presume something and to define even concerning those most rare sights. But I dare this so much the less, the less I am able to explain in what manner comes to be that too which we experience continually in life, waking and sleeping. For while I was dictating this letter to you, I was beholding you yourself in my mind, you being altogether absent and unaware, and I was imagining how you might be moved by these words, according to the knowledge of you which is in me;
and in what manner this came to be in my mind, I could neither grasp nor investigate — yet certain that it did not come to be by corporeal masses nor by corporeal qualities, though what came to be was most similar to a body. This for the meantime you may take as dictated by one occupied and hastening. But in the twelfth book of those which I wrote on Genesis, this question is treated vehemently, and by many examples of things experienced and credibly heard that discussion grows into a thicket. What we were able to do or accomplish in it, you will judge when you have read it — if indeed the Lord deigns to grant that I may now be permitted to publish those books to you, corrected as fittingly as I can, and no longer to suspend the expectation of many brethren with a long discussion.
But I will briefly relate one particular thing, from which you may reflect. Our brother Gennadius, a physician known to almost everyone and most dear to us, who now dwells at Carthage and at Rome excelled greatly in the practice of his art — a religious man, as you know, and toward the care of the poor most kindly with untiring mercy and a most ready heart — nevertheless once doubted, as he lately reported to us, when he was still a young man and most fervent in these almsgivings, whether there was any life after death. Since therefore God would by no means forsake his mind and his works of mercy, there appeared to him in his sleep a conspicuous young man, worthy to be gazed upon, and said to him: 「Follow me.」
And while he followed him, he came to a certain city, where he began to hear on the right-hand side the sounds of a most sweet song, beyond the usual and familiar sweetness; then, when he attended intently to what it might be, the young man said that they were the hymns of the blessed and of the saints. But what he reported he saw on the left-hand side, I do not sufficiently remember. He awoke, and the dream fled away, and he thought about it only as much as one thinks about a dream. But on another night, behold, that very same young man appeared to him again, and asked whether he was recognized by him; he answered that he knew him well and fully. Then the other asked where he had come to know him. Nor was it wanting to his memory what he answered again and again — the whole of that vision and the hymns of the saints, to
which he had come to hear under that one's guidance — this he narrated with such ease as one recalls the most recent things. Here that one inquired whether the thing he had narrated he had seen in sleep or waking; he answered: 「In sleep.」 But the other said: 「You recall well; it is true, you saw those things in sleep; but even now know that you are seeing me in sleep.」 When he had heard this, he believed it to be so and confirmed it by his answer. Then the one who was teaching the man added and said: 「Where is your body now?」 He answered: 「In my bedchamber.」 「Do you know,」 said he, 「that your eyes now, in that same little body, are bound and shut and idle, and that you see nothing with those eyes?」 He answered: 「I know.」 Then the other:
「What then,」 said he, 「are these eyes with which you see me?」 To this, not finding what to answer, he fell silent. To him as he hesitated, that one disclosed what by these questions he was endeavouring to teach, and at once said: 「Just as those eyes of your flesh now, while you sleep and lie upon your couch, are indeed idle and do nothing, and yet these are the eyes with which you gaze upon me and use this vision — so, when you are dead, while the eyes of your flesh do nothing, there will be in you a life by which you live, and a sense by which you perceive. Beware henceforth, then, of doubting that life remains after death.」 Thus the faithful man says the doubt of this matter was taken from him — by whose teaching, if not by the providence and mercy of God?
At this narration someone may say that we have not solved the question of so great a matter, but rather increased it. Yet since, with these words, it is free to each to believe or not to believe, let each hold himself. To what does he divert himself? — the most profound question. Man wakes and man sleeps and man thinks every day. Let him say whence come to be these things similar to forms, similar to qualities, similar to the motions of bodies, and yet not of corporeal matter. Let him say, if he can; but if he cannot, why does he hurl himself, concerning the rarest or untried things, to bring forward as it were a settled opinion, when he does not solve the continual and daily? But I, though I cannot at all explain in words in what manner these things — as it were
corporeal things without body — come to be, yet just as I know that they do not come to be by the body, would that I likewise knew in what manner those things are distinguished which are sometimes seen through the spirit and are thought to be seen through the body, or in what manner are distinguished the visions of those whom error or impiety very often deludes, when very many things similar to the visions of the pious and the saints are narrated! If I had wished to recount examples of these, time rather than abundance of matter would have failed me. Be mindful of us, and may you flourish in the mercy of the Lord, most blessed and venerable and desirable brother. 160. That reason is perfect which furnishes the knowledge of all things, and especially of eternal things, which are comprehended by the understanding.
That this is eternal, that it ought to have been eternal, that that thing is eternal which neither began nor ceases nor is changed nor varies — reason itself teaches and shows, which must of necessity be eternal, not only because it teaches and demonstrates eternal things, but much more because eternity itself cannot be without reason; which, I judge, would not be eternity, if reason itself had not been eternal. Then that God exists, or ought to have existed, and that it ought not to come about otherwise than that God should exist — reason itself demonstrates. And this reason assuredly, whether there were those who knew this, or there were not, nevertheless, since God is eternal, it must not be doubted that reason is eternal, which would maintain that God ought to exist, and in such a way that it would demonstrate itself to be co-eternal with Him.
But there are certain things which are compelled by a reason to exist, so that the reason is prior and the thing whose future being the reason discloses is the later effect of it; as, for example, when the world was made, there was a reason that the world should come to be. The reason, therefore, is prior to the world. Those things, then, which the reason knew would come to be, followed after, so that the reason is first and the making of the world comes afterward. Now, then, since reason shows that God exists, or that it is necessary that God should exist, which shall we set before the other? Reason before God, as reason before the world, or God before reason, without which it is probable that God can in no way exist? For if it is eternal that God exists, and to be by reason is likewise eternal, then reason is either God or belongs to God, as reason itself teaches.
But if reason itself is God, then reason shows that God is reason, and these can be coeval and coeternal with each other. If, however, this reason is the likeness of God, it shows that it is likewise the reason of God, and this too will be coeval and coeternal. But reason itself shows that God cannot come to be in such a way unless He were God. And if this reason be taken away — a thing unlawful even to say — there will be no God, if reason has not shown that God must necessarily be. Then, therefore, God exists, when there is the reason that God should exist. God therefore, since He exists, is without doubt the reason which taught that He exists. What then is first in God, if it can be said, reason or God? But God will not be, unless there had been the reason to teach that God ought to exist; and reason likewise will not be, unless God exists.
There is therefore in that reality nothing first and nothing last. This divine nature, then, in a certain manner possesses at once both reason and God. But the one generates the one: either reason generates God, or God generates reason. And perhaps reason and God may be spoken of as subject and as in a subject — God and reason, one in one. Yet it is well that God generates reason, since reason demonstrates that God exists. And God is understood by reason as the Son by the Father, and reason is understood from God as the Father from the Son. For reason itself, being with God, is God. For never was God at any time without reason, nor reason without God. For then is God, if there is reason; and then is the Son, if there is the Father; so that, if reason be taken away — as has been said, which it is not lawful to say — not even God Himself exists;
for it is through His reason that there is the act and operation whereby God exists. Again let us say the same. If reason was not, God was not; and if God was not, reason was not. Reason therefore and God are an everlasting reality; God and reason are in like manner an everlasting reality. And the conjoining and uniting of reason to God and of God to reason, of the Father to the Son and of the Son to the Father, afford to each other in a certain manner the principles and causes of existing, since the one cannot be without the other. We fail in words, yet whatever is said, let it be said, lest silence prevail. But whether we should call God the shoot of reason, or reason the shoot of God — since neither can the fruit be without the root, nor is the root anything without the fruit? Let a likeness be drawn, that something of understanding concerning God may be signified;
for even in a grain of wheat there lives a fructifying reason, whereby it is not suffered to be barren; but again, if the grain of wheat did not exist, the reason would have nothing from which to produce these things. Since, therefore, reason, which is God, either shows that God is reason, or that reason is God — in a certain manner the one showing the other — the Father is not shown save through the Son, and the Son is not shown save through the Father; so that then the Father is as it were in silence, when through the Son one comes to the Father, and then the Son is as it were in silence, when through the Father one comes to the Son; so that in a certain way the one is hidden, the other revealed, so that the one revealing reveals himself and the other, and the one cannot be known so that the other remain concealed; for 'He that hath seen me,' He says, 'hath seen the Father also,' and:
'No man cometh unto the Father but by me,' and: 'No man cometh unto me, except the Father draw him.' We have entered upon an arduous and exceedingly difficult undertaking, that not understanding somewhat concerning God we might yet understand it. Nevertheless, just as all things that exist are not understood and are unknowable without some form, so much more is nothing known without the Son, that is, without reason. For what? Was the Father ever at any time without reason, irrational? Who would dare to say it? It must therefore be known by reason that God is one from one, or one in one, at once into one, since God is one, in whom of necessity that love also must dwell, since reason itself teaches that it must be forever held, or God commands that love be shown. 161.
To the holy lord, venerable and most beloved brother and fellow-priest Augustine, and to the brethren who are with you: Evodius and the brethren who are with me in the Lord send greeting. Through Iobinus, who had been sent to the estate of Marcianum, I some time ago asked, in a letter I dispatched, one question concerning reason and God; to this I have not yet been deemed worthy of a reply. But since we had in our hands, and were reading, letters of your Holiness — one to the illustrious man Italicus and another to Italica, a woman illustrious in Christ — there occurred to me what you set down in the letter concerning the fleshly conception of our Lord Jesus Christ, our God, in the Virgin, and His birth from her: '(If a reason is sought, it will not be wonderful;
if an example is demanded, it will not be unique.' And it seemed that something of this kind could be said concerning every birth — of a human being, or of any living creature, or of any seed. For if a reason for it be sought, it will not be traced out, and it will indeed be wonderful; and if an example be demanded, since there is nothing of the kind among examples, it will be unique. For neither can that which is formed in secret by the union of a man and a woman, or by any conception, ever be set forth by reason; or indeed will any reason be found for seeds born of the earth, which first rot and afterwards bear fruit?
For is not this also wonderful — if anything be inquired after touching uniqueness — that a single worm, without any parent, is found formed and made perfect within an apple by a virginal conception? whence I think it was said, as by way of example: 'I am a worm and no man.' Concerning conceptions, therefore, whether of joined pairs or of solitary creatures, I know not what reason can be furnished. Not only, then, is no reason rendered for the conception of the Virgin, but I think none can be rendered for any conception at all. But an example is demanded. Behold, mares are said to be got with young by the wind, and hens by ashes, ducks by water, and certain other animals to bring forth their own offspring without male seed. Certainly, if they do not remain intact, yet they can conceive unimpaired. How then is it set down:
'If an example is demanded, it will not be unique,' when so many examples come forward? It is likewise known to all that certain animals are born in bodies — not only in those of females but even within those of males. Does seed there too effect conception? Behold examples, behold marvels, for which no reason at all is rendered; or, if any reason is rendered to this effect — that in a virgin who is human nothing of the kind ever occurs — nevertheless there are examples in the other natures of things, since things are born and conceived without seeds, of which a reason can by no means at all be rendered. Yet even in generation something of the kind may be found, which so brings forth its offspring that the integrity of its nature is not violated.
For I am wont to hear that the spider, without any male conception and without corruption of parturition, marvellously produces, according to the manner of its own nature, all those threads with which it is accustomed to weave its stretched web, and shows that this has been granted to it alone, as to something unique. If, therefore, this too be inquired after, is it not only wonderful, and can such examples of things by no means be given? For I fear lest for this very reason these things came first among the examples, so that those who had not believed that a virgin could conceive might by these examples be convinced that it is indeed wonderful, but yet will not be unique; for all the works of God are wonderful, since they were made in wisdom. If, therefore, this be objected against us, what shall we answer?
This also presses me most vehemently, that the like can be said concerning the substance of the glorified body of the Lord Himself — that it too will be able to see the substance of God (for you said in the letter to Italica that it cannot, and it is certain) — so that, when we have begun to render a reason why it cannot, this may be objected to us: that if what was done in that conception and birth is wonderful and unique, they will have no reason sought nor example demanded, because this was granted uniquely; so that, just as concerning His conception and generation no reason is rendered but the uniqueness is found in Him alone, so concerning His vision no reason should be rendered nor example required, but that to Him alone it be uniquely permitted to see the substance of the Godhead with the body.
But it will be answered that a reason can be rendered — namely, that by a corporeal thing an incorporeal thing can by no means be discerned. Yet I fear it may be answered that that conception too can be set forth by reason and confirmed by examples. For either among men reason will fail and examples will cease, and they will confirm that the Only-begotten can be seen by their own body as God; or, if a reason is here rendered, it will follow that a reason can be rendered by certain over-wise men both of that conception and of the generation that followed. What then is to be answered to such men, I inquire. For I do not sow contentions, but I ask in what manner insidious men are to be answered.
I, however, believe thus in the Virgin's conception and childbirth, in the manner I have always believed, and I have somehow gathered by reason that, in whatever way the body be glorified, God cannot be seen. Yet I judge that one must meet those men who are wont either to stir up seditions out of such questions, or with fervent zeal to awake to learning. Pray for us. May the peace and love of Christ perfect your Holiness in remembrance of us, holy lord, venerable and most blessed brother. 162. To the most blessed and venerable lord, brother and fellow-bishop, holy Evodius, and to the brethren with you: Augustine and the brethren with me in the Lord send greeting.