1) A: Our work has been interrupted long enough; love is impatient, and there will be no end to tears, unless love is given what it loves. Therefore let us begin the second book.
R: Let us begin.
A: Let us believe God will be near us.
R: Indeed, let us believe that, if it is in our power.
A: God himself is our power.
R: Then pray as briefly and perfectly as you can.
A: God, who is always the same, may I know myself, may I know you. That is my prayer.
R: You who wish to know yourself, do you know that you exist?
A: I do.1
R: How do you know it?
A: I don't know.
R: Do you feel yourself to be unified or differentiated?
A: I don't know.
R: Do you know that you move?
A: I don't know.
R: Do you know that you think?
A: I do.
R: Therefore it is true that you think.
A: That is true.
R: Of all these things which you say you do not know, which would you prefer to know first?
A: Whether I am immortal.
R: You love living then?
A: I admit I do.
R: When you have learned that you are immortal, will that be enough?
A: It will indeed be a great thing, but too little for me.
R: How much will you rejoice over this thing which is too little?
A: Very much.
R: Will you still cry over anything?
A: Nothing at all.
R: What if it is found that in this life you cannot know any more than you already know, will you control your tears?
A: No, I will cry so much that life will be nothing at all.
R: Therefore you do not love living for its own sake, but for the sake of knowing.
A: I agree with that conclusion.
R: What if the very knowledge of these things were to make you miserable?
A: I believe there is no way that could happen. But if it is so, then no one can be happy; for my ignorance of things is the only reason that I am now miserable. If knowledge of things makes one miserable, then misery is eternal.
R: Now I see all that you desire. Because you believe that no one is miserable on account of knowledge, from this it seems reasonable that understanding brings happiness. But no one is happy unless he or she is alive, and no one is alive who does not exist. Therefore, you want to exist, to live, and to understand; but you want to exist so that you may live, and to live so that you may understand. Therefore you know that you exist, that you live, and that you understand. But you want to know whether these will always exist, or none of them will continue to exist; whether one will always remain, while another fades away; or whether, if all remain, they can be decreased or increased.
A: That is so.
R: Therefore, if we can prove that we will live forever, it will follow that we will exist forever.
A: That will follow.
R: Then the question of understanding will still remain.
2) A: I see that the order is most clear and concise.
R: Then be ready now to answer my questions carefully and straightforwardly.
A: I'm ready.
R: If this world will last forever, is it true that the world will last forever?
A: Who would doubt that?
R: But if it will not last, is it not also true that the world will not last?
A: I do not deny it.
R: Then when it disappears, if it is to disappear, will it not then be true that the world has disappeared? For as long as it is not true that the world has perished, then it has not perished. Therefore, if the world has perished, then it is not the case that it is not true that the world has perished.
A: I grant that.
R: What about this: does it seem to you that something true can exist, while truth does not exist?
A: In no way.
R: Therefore truth will exist, even if the world passes away.
A: I cannot deny that.
R: And if truth itself perishes, will it not be true that truth has perished?
A: Who would deny that?
R: But something true cannot exist, if truth does not exist.
A: I granted that a little while ago.
R: Therefore, truth cannot possibly perish.
A: Proceed as you have begun, for nothing is more true than this conclusion.
3) R: Now I want you to tell me whether it seems to you that the soul or the body has sense perception.
A: It seems to me that the soul does.
R: Does it seem to you that understanding belongs to the soul?
A: So it clearly seems.
R: Only to the soul, or to something else?
A: I see nothing other than the soul and God, in which I believe understanding could exist.
R: Now let us look at this. If someone were to say to you that this wall is not a wall, but a tree, what would you think?
A: That either his senses or mine were deceived, or else that this is the word he uses for "wall."
R: But if it appeared to him as a tree and to you as a wall, could not both be true?
A: In no way, for one thing cannot be both a tree and a wall. For even though to each of us it may appear to be one thing, one of us must be receiving a false impression. R: What if it is neither a wall nor a tree, and both of you are mistaken?
A: That is indeed possible.
R: Then you neglected that possibility before.
A: I admit that I did.
R: But if the two of you admit that it seems to you other than it is, will you still both be deceived?
A: No.
R: Therefore, that which is seen can be false, without deceiving the one who sees. A: That is possible.
R: Therefore we must admit that the one who sees false things is not deceived, but only the one who accepts false things.
A: Clearly we must admit that.
R: Why then is a false thing false?
A: Because it is other than it seems to be.
R: Therefore, if there were no one to see it, nothing would be false.
A: That follows.
R: Therefore, deceit is not in things, but in the senses, for the one who does not accept false things is not deceived. It has been concluded that we are one thing and the senses another, because we are able to remain undeceived, even when they are deceived.
A: I cannot argue with that.
R: But when the soul is deceived, would you dare say that you are not deceived?
A: How could I dare say that?
R: But there are no senses without the soul, and no deceit without the senses. Therefore the soul either causes deceit, or goes along with it.
A: What has gone before forces my agreement.
4) R: Now answer me this: does it seem possible to you that at some time deceit might not exist?
A: How could it seem that way to me, when there is so much difficulty in finding the truth that it would be more ludicrous to say that deceit could not exist than to say that truth could not exist?
R: Do you think that one who is not alive can have sense perception?
A: That is impossible.
R: Then the conclusion is that the soul lives forever.
A: You are bringing me to joy to quickly; please go more slowly.
R: But if these points have been rightly made, I see no reason to doubt this.
A: I still say it's too quick. I am more easily persuaded to think that I have conceded something carelessly, than that I am now assured of the immortality of the soul. Nevertheless, explain this conclusion and show how it has been proven.
R: You said that deceit cannot exist without the senses, and also that deceit cannot fail to exist; therefore the senses always exist. But there are no senses without the soul; therefore the soul is eternal. Nor can it sense, unless it is alive; therefore the soul lives forever.
5) A: What a "dagger of lead"!2 You could have concluded that humanity is immortal if I had granted that this world cannot exist without humanity, and that this world will last forever.
R: You really are on your guard. Nonetheless, what we have concluded is no small thing: the natural world cannot exist without the soul, unless perhaps there will be a time when there will be no deceit in nature.
A: I admit that is a logical consequence. But I think that now we should more fully consider whether what has been concluded thus far is not insecure. For I see that a not insignificant step has been made toward the immortality of the soul.
R: Have you reflected enough on whether you may have conceded something carelessly?
A: I have considered it enough, but I see nothing that would make me accuse myself of carelessness.
R: Therefore it is concluded that the natural world cannot exist without a living soul.
A: It is so concluded, so long as it is noted that some may be born, alternating with others who die.
R: But if deceit were removed from the natural world, wouldn't the result be that all things are true?
A: I see how that follows.
R: Tell me in what way this wall seems to you to be a true wall.
A: Because I am not deceived by its appearance.
R: That is to say, because it is just as it seems to be.
A: Exactly.
R: If, therefore, something is false because it seems to be something other than it is, and something is true because it is as it seems, then if the one seeing were removed, nothing would be either false or true. But if deceit does not exist in the natural world, then all things are true; nor can anything be seen except by a living soul. Therefore the soul remains in the natural world, whether or not deceit can be removed.
A: I see that what has been concluded thus far has been made more secure, but we have advanced no further by this addition. For the problem which bothers me the most still remains: that souls are born and then disappear, and they are always in the world not because of their immortality, but because they succeed one another.
6) R: Does it seem to you that corporeal, sensible things can be grasped by the intellect?
A: It does not seem so.
R: Does it seem to you that God knows things by using the senses?
A: I dare not say such a thing carelessly, but as far as one is allowed to speculate, God in no way uses the senses.
R: Therefore we conclude that only the soul can use the senses.
A: For now, conclude whatever seems probable.
R: Do you grant that this wall, if it is not a true wall, is not a wall?
A: I would grant nothing more easily.
R: And that something is a body only if it is a true body?
A: That is so.
R: Therefore, if nothing is true unless it is as it seems, and something corporeal can be seen only by the senses, and only the soul can use the senses, and if something is a body only if it is a true body, then it follows that a body cannot exist unless there is a soul.
A: You are pressing me too much, and I cannot offer any resistance.
7) R: Pay more careful attention to these things.
A: I am with you.
R: This is certainly a stone, and a true one if it is not other than it seems. It is not a stone if it is not a true one. Further, it cannot be seen except by the senses.
A: That is so.
R: Therefore, there are no stones in the deepest bowels of the earth, or anywhere else where there is no one to sense them. Even this one would not be a stone if we did not look at it, and it will not be a stone when we leave and there is no one to look at it. And if you close some boxes tightly, no matter how much you put in them, they will be empty; even the wood itself on the inside is not wood, for anything which is in the depths of a non-transparent body is hidden from all the senses, and must therefore not exist. For if it existed, it would be true; but nothing is true, unless it is as it seems. Because that is not seen, it is therefore not true. Or do you have some answer to this?
A: I see that this is derived from those points which I have conceded. But it is so ludicrous that I would deny any one of them rather than concede that this is true.
R: I have no objection. See which you would rather say: that corporeal things can be seen only by the senses, or that only the soul can use the senses, or that a stone or something else can exist without being true, or that the true itself is to be defined differently.
A: Let us examine that last one, please.
8) R: Define "true" then.
A: That is true which is as it seems to the knower who wants and is able to know. R: Therefore, will that which no one can know not be true? Furthermore, if that which is other than it seems is false, then if this stone seems to one person to be a stone, but to another a piece of wood, will the same thing be both false and true?
A: The first possibility bothers me more. How can it be that because something cannot be known, it therefore is not true? I am not too troubled by one thing being both true and false at the same time. For I see that one thing can at the same time be both larger and smaller when compared to different things. And from this it follows that nothing is of itself larger or smaller; these words are used for comparison.
R: But if you say that nothing is true of itself, aren't you afraid that it may follow that nothing exists of itself? For because this is wood, it is therefore true wood; and it cannot be wood of itself (that is, without a knower), unless it is true wood.
A: Therefore I say this, and thus I define it; nor am I afraid that my definition may be rejected as too brief. It seems to me that the "true" is that which exists.
R: Therefore nothing will be false, for whatever exists is true.
A: You have driven me to great distress, and I can find no reply. That is why, although I do not want to be taught in any other way than by these questions, nevertheless I fear being questioned.
9) R: God, to whom we have committed ourselves, without a doubt gives us aid and frees us from these difficulties, if only we believe and pray most devoutly.
A: Certainly there is nothing I would do more willingly at this point, for never have I been so engulfed by darkness. God, our Father, who calls upon us to pray, and who grants what you are asked for, since, when we pray, we live better and are better; listen to me, trembling in this darkness, and stretch out your right hand to me. Extend your light on to me and call me back from my wanderings, so that by your guidance I may return to myself and to you.3 Amen.
R: Follow this as much as you can, and pay attention most carefully.
A: Tell me, please, whatever occurs to you, so that we may not be lost.
R: Stay with me.
A: You have my attention: I am doing nothing else.
10) R: First, we must thoroughly go over what is "the false."
A: I wonder if it will be anything other than that which is not as it seems.
R: Pay attention rather, and let us first ask the senses themselves. For certainly that which the eyes see is not called false unless it bears some resemblance to the true. For example, a man whom we see in our dreams is not a true man, but a false one, precisely because he bears a resemblance to the true. For who would see a dog in a dream and rightly say that he dreamed of a man? Therefore, that dog is false because it resembles a true one.
A: It is as you say.
R: What if someone who is awake were to see a horse and think that he sees a man: wouldn't he be deceived precisely because something resembling a man appeared to him? For if nothing other than the image of a horse appeared to him, he could not think that he sees a man.
A: I agree completely.
R: We also speak of a false tree which we see in a picture, a false face which is reflected in a mirror, the false motion of towers as seen by those sailing by, a false break in an oar in the water:4 these are false for no other reason than that they resemble the true.
A: I grant that.
R: We are deceived in the same way regarding twins, eggs, the seals made by one signet ring, and other things of this kind.
A: I follow you completely and grant that.
R: Therefore the resemblance of things which relates to the eyes is the mother of deception.
A: I cannot disagree.
11) R: Unless I'm mistaken, all this data can be divided into two types: one is concerned with equal things, the other with inferior things. They are equal when we say that this resembles that and that resembles this, as is said of twins or the impressions of a signet ring. But when we speak of inferior things, we say only that the inferior thing resembles the superior thing. For who would look in a mirror and rightly say that he or she resembles the image, rather than that it resembles him or her? That which the soul experiences, together with the things which are seen, make up this type. But the soul experiences something either in the sense itself, such as the non-existent motion of the tower; or within itself, such as the visions of dreamers and perhaps also of the insane. Furthermore, those resemblances which appear in the things which we see are composed and formed, some by nature, others by living things. Nature makes inferior resemblances either by producing them or reflecting them: by producing them, as when children are born who resemble their parents; by reflecting them, as in any kind of mirror. (Even though people make the majority of mirrors, they nevertheless do not fashion the images which are reflected in them.) The works of living things are in pictures and any other creation of this kind; those made by demons (if they exist) can be included in this category.5 But as for the shadows of bodies, they are quite rightly said to resemble bodies and to be like false bodies; therefore, they must be said to belong to the judgment of the eyes, and should be put in that category of resemblances which nature makes by reflection. For every body exposed to light reflects it, and casts a shadow on the opposite side. Does any of this seem objectionable to you?
A: Nothing at all. But I'm eager to see where this is going.
12) R: We must be patient until the other senses tell us that deception resides in the resemblance to the true. For in hearing almost as many types of resemblances occur, as when we hear the voice of someone speaking, but do not see him or her, we think it is someone else whose voice is similar. Or in inferior resemblances, an echo is a good example, or a ringing in the ears, or the imitation by clocks of a blackbird or raven, or the sounds dreaming or insane people think they hear. And falsetto voices, as they are called by musicians, bear witness in an astonishing way to this truth, as will be shown later; it is enough for now to note that they do not lack a resemblance to true voices. Do you follow this?
A: With the greatest pleasure. I have no difficulty in understanding it.
R: Then let us not delay. Does it seem possible to you that one could distinguish one lily from another just by smell, or the honey from different hives just by taste, or the softness of swan feathers from that of goose feathers just by touch?
A: It does not seem so to me.
R: Then when we dream of such smells or tastes or touches, are we not deceived by the resemblance of the image; and the imperfection of the resemblance increases as it is more unreal?
A: What you say is true.
R: Therefore it is clear that in all our senses we are deceived by an enticing resemblance, whether it is between equal things or inferior things. Even if we are not deceived, because we keep ourselves from agreeing or because we see the difference, nevertheless we call things false because we see in them a resemblance to the true.
A: I cannot doubt that.
13) R: Now pay attention while we go back over these things, so that what we are trying to show may become clearer.
A: I am here; say what you wish. I have decided once for all to last this indirect course and not drop out, so great is my hope of attaining the goal for which I feel we are striving.
R: Well done. Now consider whether it seems to you that when we see similar eggs we can rightly say that any one of them is false.
A: It does not seem so at all. For if they are eggs, then they are all true eggs.
R: When we see an image reflected in a mirror, what indications cause us to perceive that it is false?
A: Because it cannot be grasped, it makes no sound, it does not move of itself, it is not alive, and so many others that it would take too long to list them.
R: I see that you don't want to delay and your haste must be obliged. So as not to repeat each example, if those people whom we see in dreams were able to live, speak, and be touched by those who are awake, and if there were no difference between them and those whom we see and speak to when we are awake and clear-headed, would we say they are false?
A: How could one rightly say that?
R: Therefore, if they are true because they most closely resemble the true and there is no difference at all between them and the true ones, and if they would be false, if they were shown to be dissimilar because of differences of some kind or another, then must it not be concluded that similarity is the mother of truth and dissimilarity the mother of deception?
A: I can say nothing, and I'm ashamed at my earlier careless agreement.
14) R: It's absurd for you to be ashamed; it is for this very reason that we chose this type of discourse. Because we are talking with ourselves alone, I want to entitle it "Soliloquies."6 This name may be new and perhaps unrefined, but quite appropriate for explaining the work. There is no better way to seek the truth than by question and answer, but hardly anyone can be found who would not be ashamed at being proven wrong in an argument. This almost always results in a topic for discussion which has started well being drowned out by the unruly clamor of obstinacy, along with hurt feelings which are usually hidden, but sometimes are out in the open. For these reasons, it seemed to me that the most peaceful and proper way to seek the truth with God's help would be by questioning and answering myself. So there is nothing to fear: if you have carelessly entangled yourself at any point, go back and free yourself, for otherwise one cannot escape.
15) A: What you say is right. But I cannot see clearly what I have wrongly agreed to, unless perhaps it was when I stated that the false is rightly said to be that which bears a resemblance to the true; but nothing else occurs to me as deserving of the name of false. Nevertheless, I am forced to admit that the things called false are so called because they differ from the true, and from this it is concluded that dissimilarity itself is the cause of deception. So I am in distress, for I cannot easily conceive of something which is produced by opposite causes.
R: What if this is the only case of its kind in the natural world? You are aware, aren't you, that if you were to examine the innumerable species of animals, you would find that only the crocodile moves its upper jaw when chewing? Besides, one can scarcely find something that is so similar to another that it is not also dissimilar in some way.
A: I see that. But when I consider that what we call false has both something similar and something dissimilar to the true, I cannot decide for which of these it deserves the name of false. For if I say that it is because it is dissimilar, then there will be nothing which cannot be called false, for there is nothing which is not dissimilar to something which we accept as true. But if I say that it should be called false because it is similar, then not only will those eggs object (for they are true precisely because they are so similar), but I will also not be able to resist anyone who will force me to admit that everything is false, since I cannot deny that all things are similar in some way. But suppose I were not afraid to say that both similarity and dissimilarity at the same time cause something to be rightly called false. Will you give me some way of escape then? For I will still be compelled to declare that everything is false, since, as we said earlier, all things are found to be partly similar and partly dissimilar. Nothing would be left for me, except to say that the false is that which is other than it seems; but that would terrify me with all those monsters, past which I thought I had already sailed. I am again driven back by an unexpected whirlwind, so that I call true that which is as it seems. It follows from this that nothing can be true without someone to know it, and this is for me a terrible shipwreck on hidden rocks (which are true even if they are unknown). And if I say that the true is that which exists, then it will follow that the false does not exist anywhere, which anyone would deny. And so these turmoils return, and I see no progress, in spite of my patience with your delays.
16) R: Pay attention rather, for I will never admit that we have begged for divine help in vain. I see that, having investigated everything as best we can, there is nothing left that can rightly by called false, unless it would be that which either presents itself as something it is not, or tries to exist entirely and fails. But the first type of falsehood is either deceptive or untrue. That is rightly called deceptive which includes the desire to deceive; that is inconceivable without a soul, though it is partly from reason, partly from nature. It is from reason in rational animals, such as human beings; from nature in beasts, such as the fox. But the other kind, which I call untrue, is found in those who lie. They differ from those who are deceptive, in that everyone who is deceptive wishes to deceive, but not everyone who lies wishes to deceive. For masques and comedies and many poems are full of lies, but their purpose is to delight rather than to deceive; and nearly everyone who tells a joke is telling a lie. But one is rightly called deceptive or deceiving, if his or her goal is to deceive someone. Those who do it not in order to deceive, but just make something up, no one hesitates to call liars, or if not that, at least tellers of lies. Or do you have anything to say against this?
17) A: Please proceed. Perhaps now you have begun to teach me some un-false things about the false. But now I am waiting to hear about that class which you spoke of, the kind that tries to be and fails.
R: Why wouldn't you wait? Those are the things we have discussed so much already. Doesn't it seem to you that your image in a mirror wants, in a way, to be you, and is false because it isn't?
A: That certainly seems so.
R: Do not all pictures and replicas of that kind and all artists' works of that type strive to be that in whose likeness they are made?
A: I am completely convinced that they do.
R: And I think you would agree that those things which deceive people who are asleep or insane are of that class.
A: Those more than others. For those try more than others to be the things which people who are awake and sane perceive, and they are false because they cannot be what they try to be.
R: Then should I say more about the motion of towers or the oar in the water or the shadows of bodies? I think it is clear that they are to be measured by this rule.
A: That is most clear.
R: I will pass over the other senses, for anyone who considers this will find that, among the things we perceive by sense, a thing is called false if it tries to be something and fails.
18) A: What you say is correct. But I'm surprised that you exclude from this category those poems and jokes and other falsehoods.
R: Because it is one thing to want to be false, and another to be unable to be true. Therefore we cannot7 put human works such as comedies, tragedies, masques, and other things of that type in the same category as the works of painters and other image-makers. For a picture of a man cannot be as true, even though it tries to look like a man, as those things which are written in the books of the comic authors. Those things do not wish to be false, nor are they false because they try to be so; but by necessity they conform as much as possible to the artist's design. But on the stage Roscius was a false Hecuba by his own will, though by nature a true man; he was by his own will a true tragic actor, because he played his part, but a false Priam, because he imitated Priam though he was not Priam.8 From this there arises something remarkable, but something which no one would deny.
A: What's that?
R: What do you think? It is that these things are in some way true precisely because they are in some way false, and their being true is supported only by their being false in another way. So they cannot possibly be what they want or ought to be if they avoid being false. For how could that man I just mentioned be a true tragic actor if he were unwilling to be a false Hector, a false Andromache, a false Hercules, and any number of others? Or how could the picture be true, if the horse were not false? How could the image of the man in the mirror be true, if the man were not false? Then if some things are helped to be true by their being something false, why do we so greatly fear falsehoods and strive for truth as for some great good?
A: I don't know. I would be greatly surprised by this, if it were not for the fact that I see nothing in these examples worthy of imitation. Unlike actors or reflections in a mirror or the bronze cows of Myron,9 we need not adapt or accommodate ourselves to the character of another; we need not become false in order to be true to our own character. We should seek that which is true, rather than something with two contradictory faces, true on the one side, false on the other.
R: You require great and divine things. If we find such things, will we not admit that these things produce and in a way form truth itself, from which everything which is in any way called true gets its name?
A: I willingly agree.
19) R: Does the discipline of disputation seem to you true or false?
A: Who would doubt that it's true? But grammar is also true.
R: Just as true?
A: I don't see how anything could be more true than the true.
R: What about that which has nothing false in it? When considering this a little while ago, you were annoyed by those things which in some unknown way could not be true unless they were false. Or are you unaware that all those fables and obvious falsehoods are related to grammar?
A: I'm aware of that. But I don't think they are false because of grammar; rather, grammar shows them for what they are. A fable is a lie made up for either profit or pleasure. Grammar is the discipline which preserves and governs the spoken word. Because of its place, it must gather all the works of human language, even fictions, which have been committed to memory or writing. It does not create falsehoods, but from them it teaches and presents a true system.10
R: Well said. Right now I don't care whether you define and distinguish these things well: I want to ask whether grammar itself or the discipline of disputation shows that this is so.
A: I do not deny that the capability and skill of defining through which I tried to divide these things are a part of the art of disputation.
20) R: What about grammar itself? If it is true, is it not true precisely because it is a discipline? It is called "discipline" because it comes from "learning."11 No one who has learned something and held on to it can be said not to know, and no one knows false things. Therefore every discipline is true.
A: I see nothing that has been carelessly agreed to in this little bit of reasoning. Nevertheless, I'm worried that it might seem to someone that therefore those fables are also true, because we learn them and hold on to them.
R: Didn't our teacher want us to believe and to know the things which he taught?
A: Oh yes, he insisted very forcefully that we know them.
R: Did he ever insist that we believe that Daedalus had flown?
A: He never did that. But he certainly made sure that if we didn't hold on to the fable in our minds, then we could hardly hold on to anything with our hands.12
R: Then do you dent that it is true that this is a fable and that this is how Daedalus has become famous?
A: I don't deny that is true.
R: Then you don't deny that you learned something true when you learned these things. For if it were true that Daedalus had flown, but children learned and recited it as a made-up story, then they would be holding on to a false notion, because what they were reciting really was true. So the thing we were surprised at before has come up again: there could be no true fable about the flight of Daedalus, unless it were false that Daedalus had flown.
A: I grasp that. But I'm waiting to see how that will help us.
R: Isn't it clear now that the reasoning isn't false, by which we concluded that a discipline cannot be a discipline unless it teaches true things?
A: And how does that relate?
R: Because I want you to tell me how grammar is a discipline, since it is true because it is a discipline.
A: I don't know how I should respond.
R: Doesn't it seem to you that it could not possibly be a discipline if nothing were defined in it, and if it had no divisions and distinctions into classes and types?
A: Now I see what you're saying. No kind of discipline occurs to me in which there are no definitions and divisions and reasoning to determine what something really is, assigning to each thing what belongs to it, without any confusion of the parts,13 omitting nothing intrinsic to it, and including nothing extrinsic; all of this together makes what is called a discipline.
R: Therefore, on account of all that, it is called true.
A: I see how that follows.
21) R: Now tell me which discipline contains the principles of definition, division, and distribution?
A: It has already been said that these are contained in the rules of disputation.
R: Therefore grammar, as a discipline and as something true, comes from that art which you said before is free from deception. And it seems to me that one may conclude this not only of grammar, but of all disciplines. For you said, and said truly, that no discipline occurred to you in which the ability of defining and dividing was not what made it a discipline. But if they are true for the same reason that they are disciplines, will anyone deny that all disciplines are true through truth itself?
A: I agree almost completely. But it bothers me that we count the system of disputation among these disciplines. So I think rather that truth is that through which this system if true.
R: Very good; you're really wide awake. But I don't think that you would deny that disputation is true for the same reason that it is a discipline.
A: Indeed, that is what bothers me. For as I noted, it is itself a discipline, and for that reason it is called true.
R: But do you think that it could be a discipline, unless everything in it were defined and divided?
A: I could say nothing other than that.
R: So if this requirement is governed by disputation, then that discipline is true because of itself. Who will think it remarkable if that through which all things are true is of itself and in itself the true truth?
A: There is nothing to keep me from going along with this opinion.
22) R: Then pay attention to what little remains.
A: Show me whatever you have; as long as it's something I can understand, I will readily agree to it.
R: It has not escaped our notice, that something is said to be in something else in two ways. The first way is such that the thing can be separated and exist somewhere else: for example, wood in this place, or the sun in the east. The second way is such that the thing is in a subject and cannot be separated from it: for example, the form and appearance which we see in this wood, or light in the sun, or heat in fire, or a discipline in the soul, or other similar things. Does it seem otherwise to you?
A: We are well acquainted with these: most eagerly we learned and knew them from early childhood. So if I am asked about them I can only agree without any hesitation.
R: Then do you not agree that whatever is inseparably in a subject cannot endure if the subject itself does not endure?
A: I see how that follows. For anyone who considers the matter closely understands that even when the subject endures, what is in the subject may not endure. The color of one's body can change, either because of health or age, even though the body itself has not perished. This is not true in all cases, but only in those in which the things exist in the subjects, but are not necessary to the subjects' existence. For a wall to exist it need not have the color we see in it, since it would still be a wall and be called such, even if it were to turn black or white or some other color. On the other hand, a fire without heat would not be a fire, and we cannot call something snow unless it is white.
23) But as for your question, would anyone agree or even think it possible that something which is in a subject endures when the subject itself has perished? It is bizarre and far from the truth to think that something which could not exist unless it were in something else, could still exist when that something has disappeared.
R: Then what we were looking for has been found.
A: What are you talking about?
R: Just what you hear.
A: Then it is clearly established that the soul is immortal?
R: If the things you have agreed to are true, then it is most clear; unless perhaps you say that even when the soul dies it is still the soul.
A: I would never say that, but I do say that because it perishes, the soul therefore ceases to exist. And I will not withdraw this statement because great philosophers have said that the thing which brings life wherever it goes cannot receive death into itself. For even though light illuminates wherever it can enter and cannot receive darkness into itself (because of that notable law about opposites), nevertheless it is extinguished and the place is darkened when the light is put out. So that which held back the darkness and would never receive it into itself, nevertheless gave way to the darkness by dying, just as it could have done by leaving. So I fear that death may come upon the body as darkness comes to a place, sometimes by the soul leaving, sometimes by its being extinguished, just as with light. Therefore there can be no confidence about all types of bodily death, although some kind of death should be wished for, one in which the soul is safely led from the body and brought to a place (if there is such a place) where it cannot be extinguished. But if this is impossible and the soul is in the body like a burning lamp, and cannot endure outside of it, and every death is the extinction of soul or life in the body, then some kind of life should be chosen (in so far as one is allowed) in which one lives one's life in confidence and tranquility. But I do not know how this is possible if the soul dies. How happy are those who are persuaded, either by themselves or someone else, that death is not to be feared, even if the soul perishes! But as for pitiful me, no reasoning and no books have been able to convince me.
24) R: Stop your moaning. The human soul is immortal.
A: How do you prove it?
R: From those things which I think you have already agreed to very cautiously.
A: I do not recall giving any careless answers to your questions. But please sum it all up now. Let us see how far we have come after so many digressions, though I don't want you to question me any more. For if you briefly list those things which I have agreed to, then why would you want me to answer them again? Are you arbitrarily putting obstacles in the way of my joy, if perhaps we have accomplished some good?
R: I'll do what you seem to wish, but pay attention most carefully.
A: Tell me and I'll pay attention. Why do you torment me?
R: If everything which is in a subject endures forever, then the subject itself must necessarily endure forever. Every discipline is in the soul as in a subject. Therefore, if the discipline endures forever, then necessarily the soul endures forever. But a discipline is the truth, and the truth endures forever, as reason showed at the beginning of this book. Therefore the soul endures forever, and the soul cannot be said to die.14 Therefore the only one who can deny the soul's immortality without being absurd would be someone who can show that something in the preceding argument has been concluded incorrectly.
25) A: Now I wish to let myself rejoice, but I hold myself back somewhat for two reasons. The first thing that bothers me is that we have used such a convoluted path, following some unknown line of reasoning, when everything that is at issue could have been demonstrated briefly, as now it has been. So it makes me uneasy that the conversation has wandered about in a way that almost seems treacherous. Secondly, I don't see how a discipline, especially that of disputation, always exists in the soul, when so few are aware of it, and even someone who now knows it, knew nothing of it for a long time, starting at infancy. For we cannot say that the souls of the uneducated are not souls, or that there is in the soul a discipline about which they are ignorant. But if this is completely ridiculous, then it is still the case that either truth is not always in the soul, or else that discipline is not the truth.
26) R: You see that it was not for nothing that our reasoning took such devious paths. For we were enquiring about what truth is, and I see that even now we have not been able to hunt it down in this thicket of things, even though we have wandered down almost every path. But what shall we do? Are we to stop what we have begun and wait until something from someone else's book falls into our hands and answers the question sufficiently? For I think that before our time many books have been written which we have not read; and even now (and this is not just conjecture about things we are ignorant of) works in both prose and poetry have been written on this subject. These have been written by men whose works cannot remain hidden from us, and we know their skill is such that we cannot fail to find what we want in their writings. This is especially true of that man whom we see before our eyes bringing back to life that eloquence which we grieved for as dead.15 Will the one who taught us how to live let us be ignorant of the nature of life?
A: I don't think so, and I hope for much from him. But one thing saddens me: that we cannot show him, as much as we would like to, our reverence for him and for wisdom. For certainly he would take pity on our thirst and pour out more abundantly than he does now. He is without a care, because he is already completely convinced of the soul's immortality, and does not know that there are perhaps some who know the misery of such ignorance well enough, and whom it would be cruel not to help, especially if they ask for it. There is another who knows our longing because of our close friendship,16 but he is so far away and in our present circumstances we can hardly even send him a letter. I believe that in his leisure on the other side of the Alps he has now finished a poem in which the spellbinding fear of death is driven out, and the soul's coldness and indolence, hardened like old frost, are expelled. But meanwhile, until these things which we cannot control come about, isn't it most disgraceful to waste our time and let our very soul hang in suspense for an uncertain verdict?
27) Where are the things which we asked and go on asking God for: not riches, not bodily pleasure, not popular distinctions and honors, but only that he show us the way in our search for our soul and for him? Has he really abandoned us or been abandoned by us?
R: It is completely contrary to God's nature to abandon those who desire such things, and so it should be contrary to our nature to abandon such a leader. So if you please, let us retrace how we came to these two conclusions, namely, that truth endures forever and that the science of disputation is truth. For you said that these were uncertain, and therefore the whole argument would not put us at ease. Or should we rather ask how a discipline can exist in an uneducated soul, which we cannot say is not a soul? For that seemed to upset you, so that it was necessary to question again the things to which you had agreed.
A: Let us discuss these first two points, and then we'll look at the other. I think that in that way, no doubt will remain.
R: Let's do that, but give me your complete and most careful attention. For I know what happens to you when you concentrate: you focus too much on the conclusion, expecting to get to it immediately, and so you agree to questions without careful consideration.
A: Perhaps what you say is true, but I'll fight against this type of illness as much as I can. Begin questioning right away, so that we do not dwell on unimportant things.
28) R: As I recall, we concluded that truth cannot perish because not only if the whole world perished, but even if truth itself perished, it would still be true that the world and truth had perished. But nothing is true without truth. Therefore there is no way for truth to perish.
A: I acknowledge these things and will be very astonished if they are false.
R: Then let us inspect the other point.
A: Please let me consider this a little more, and spare me the embarrassment of going back over these things again.
R: Will it not be true that truth has perished? If it will not be true, then truth will not have perished. And if it will be true, how will it be true after the destruction of truth, when truth no longer exists?
A: There is nothing more for me to reflect on or consider; proceed with the other point. We will certainly do what we can to make sure that learned and wise men read this and correct our carelessness, if there is any. But I do not think that I can now or at any other time find anything to object to in this.
29) R: Then is anything called truth, except that by which any true thing is true?
A: Nothing at all.
R: Then is anything rightly called true, except that which is not false?
A: To doubt that would really be insane.
R: Is not the false that which is like something enough to resemble it, but nevertheless is not that which it seems to resemble?
A: I see nothing else which I would more readily call false. Nevertheless, one often calls false that which is far from a resemblance to the true.
R: Who would deny that? But it must have some similarity to the true.
A: How? For when it is said that Medea flew on winged snakes tied together, this in no way imitates the true, since it is non-existent, and a thing which is completely non-existent cannot imitate anything.
R: What you say is correct. But you neglect the fact that something which is completely non-existent cannot be called false. For if it is false, it exists; if it does not exist, it is not false.
A: Then we cannot call that outrageous story about Medea false?
R: No, for if it is false, how is it outrageous?
A: I see this as quite astonishing. So when I hear, "...huge winged snakes tied to a chariot,"17 I am not to call it false?
R: Certainly you do say that, for there is something in it which you call false.
A: What, I ask you?
R: The idea which is expressed in that verse itself.
A: And how does that have a similarity to the true?
R: Because it is would be expressed in a similar way even if Medea had truly done that. Therefore a false idea imitates true ideas by its expression itself. If it is not believed, then it imitates true ideas only in the way it is said, so it is only false and not deceptive. But if it gains credibility, then it imitates true ideas which are believed.
A: Now I understand that there is a great difference between what we say and the things about which we speak. Now I agree (for only this held me back) that we do not rightly call something false unless it has a similarity to something true. Who would not be justly laughed at if he said that a stone is false silver? But if someone were to say that a stone is silver, we would say that he has said something false, that is, that he presents a false idea. But I do not think that it is ridiculous to call tin or lead false silver, because the thing itself imitates silver; in this instance, it is not our idea which is false, but the thing of which we speak.
30) R: You understand it well. But consider whether we can properly call silver by the name of false lead.
A: I wouldn't call it that.
R: Why not?
A: I don't know; but I see that it is very much against my inclination to say that.
R: Is it perhaps because silver is finer, and it would be a sort of insult to call it that, while it is something of an honor for lead to be called false silver?
A: You have explained it exactly as I wished. For the same reason I believe that men who wear women's clothes are justly deemed disgraceful and dishonorable. I don't know if I should call them false women or false men. Nevertheless, we can without hesitation call them true actors and truly disgraceful. If they stay hidden, I think we can call them, not without truth, truly base, since one is called disgraceful only when widely known as evil.
R: There will be another occasion for us to discuss these things, for there are many things which seem to most people to have a shameful appearance, but nevertheless are shown to be honorable because of their praiseworthy goal. It is a tough question, whether one, in order to free his homeland, ought to deceive the enemy by putting on women's clothing; perhaps he would become a truer man by being a false woman. Or should a wise man, who is certain that in some way his life is necessary for humanity, prefer to die of cold rather than put on feminine clothes, when there is nothing else to wear? But, as I said, we'll see about this some other time. Clearly you can tell how much inquiry is necessary in order to determine how far these things can be taken without becoming inexcusable disgraces. Now it is enough for the present question, I think, that it is clear and cannot be doubted that nothing is false except by some similarity to the true.
31) A: Go on to the remaining questions, for I am thoroughly convinced of this.
R: Then I want to ask this: besides the disciplines in which we are trained and among which the study of wisdom should be counted, can we find anything which is so true that it is not false in one way so that it can be true in another, like an Achilles in a play?
A: It seems to me that many could be found. For the disciplines do not contain this stone; nor does it, in order to be a true stone, imitate something else, next to which it would be called false. And from this one observation you can see the innumerable others which must be omitted, but which immediately occur to any thinking person.
R: I certainly see that. But don't they all seem to you to be included under the one title of body?
A: They would seem so, if I were certain that emptiness is nothing,18 or if I thought that the soul itself is counted among corporeal things, or if I believed that God is a body of some kind. If all these things exist, I do not see that they are either false or true by their imitation of something else.
R: You are sending us on a long trip, but I'll take a short-cut as much as I can. For certainly what you call emptiness is quite different from what you call truth.
A: Very different. For what would be more empty than myself if I thought that truth is something empty, or if I so eagerly sought something empty? What else other than truth do I long to find?
R: Then perhaps you agree that nothing is true which is not made true by the truth.
A: That has been clear for some time now.
R: Do you doubt that nothing is empty except emptiness itself, or at least that a body is not empty?
A: I don't doubt that at all.
R: Then I suppose you believe that truth is some kind of body.
A: Not at all.
R: Maybe it is in a body?
A: I don't know. But it is not to the point, for I think that you know that if there is emptiness, there is more of it where there is no body.
R: That is certainly clear.
A: Then why do we delay?
R: Does it seem to you that truth created emptiness, or that there can be something true where there is no truth?
A: It does not seem so.
R: Therefore emptiness is not true, because it cannot be made by that which is not empty. Further, that which lacks truth is clearly not true, and certainly that which is called empty is called that because it is nothing. So how can that which does not exist be true, or how can that which is essentially nothing exist at all?
A: Let's go on, and leave emptiness as it is - empty.
32) R: What do you say about the others?
A: What others?
R: That which you see me affirming so much. What remains is the soul and God. If these two are true because truth is in them, then no one should doubt God's immortality. The soul is also believed to be immortal if truth, which cannot disappear, is shown to be in it also. Now let us examine this last point, whether a body is not truly true; that is, that truth is not in it, but rather a sort of image of truth. For if we find in the body, which is quite certainly subject to death, a thing which is true in the same way as something is true in the disciplines, then the discipline of disputation will no longer be the truth by which all disciplines are true. For a body is something true which does not seem to be formed by the science of disputation. But if a body is true because of some imitation, and therefore not absolutely true, then perhaps there will be nothing to keep one from saying that the science of disputation is truth itself.
A: In the meantime, let us ask about the body, for I see that even when this point is settled, the argument still won't be over.
R: How do you know what God wants? Pay attention. I think that a body is sustained in a certain form and appearance. If it did not have this, it would not be a body, and if it had a true form and appearance, it would be a soul. Or should one think otherwise?
A: I agree in part, but about the rest I'm doubtful. I agree that a body cannot exist unless it has a certain shape, but I don't quite understand how it would be a soul if it had a true shape.
R: Do you remember nothing from the beginning of the first book and your geometry?
A: It's good you reminded me. I certainly do remember, and most pleasantly at that.
R: Are the sorts of shapes found in bodies like those which that discipline describes?19
A: No, it is incredible how inferior they are shown to be.
R: Then which of these do you think is true?
A: Please don't think that I even have to be asked this. Who is so intellectually blind that he or she would not see that those shapes which are taught in geometry inhabit truth itself or truth inhabits them, while the shapes of a body, because they seem to strive in some way towards those of geometry, have some similarity to the truth and are therefore false. Now I understand everything you were trying to show me.
33) R: Then why should we now inquire about the discipline of disputation? For whether the geometric shapes are in truth or truth is in them, no one doubts that they are contained in our soul, that is, in our intellect, and because of this truth is also in our soul. But if any discipline is in the soul as if inseparably in a subject, and if truth cannot perish, then why, I ask, why do we doubt the eternal life of the soul because of some knowledge we have of death? Does the line or the square or the circle have other things which they imitate in order to be true?
A: There is no way I can believe that, unless perhaps a line is something other than length without breadth, or a circle something other than a line extended around and equidistant at all points from a center.
R: Why then do we delay? Is not the truth where these things are?
A: May God keep such madness from us.
R: Then is a discipline not in the soul?
A: Who would say that?
R: But perhaps something which is in a subject can endure when the subject perishes?
A: How could I be convinced of that?
R: Then the only possibility left is that truth disappears.
A: How can that be?
R: Then the soul is immortal. Now believe your reasoning, believe the truth. It cries out that it lives in you, that it is immortal, and that its home cannot be taken from it by any death of the body. Turn away from your shadow, turn back towards yourself. There is no perishing in you, unless you forget that you cannot perish.
A: I hear, I regain my senses, I begin to recall. But please resolve the remaining points, as to how a discipline and truth are understood to exist in an uneducated soul, if we cannot say that it is mortal.
R: That question requires another book, if you wish to treat it thoroughly. I also see that the questions which we have explored as best we can should be reexamined by you. If none of the things agreed to is doubtful, then I think we have attained a great deal and can ask about the other questions with no small degree of confidence.
34) A: It is just as you say, and I submit to your instructions with pleasure. But let me ask one thing before you bring this book to a close. Briefly explain the difference between a true shape which is contained in the intellect, and the kind which contemplation makes for itself and which is called in Greek phantasia or phantasm.
R: What you seek is something which only the purest can see, and you are poorly trained for the sight of such a thing. We have gone through these wanderings for no other reason than for your training, so that you might be fit to see it. But perhaps I can briefly make it clear to you how it can be shown that there is a great difference. Suppose that you have forgotten something, and others want to recover it in some way for your memory. Therefore they say, "Is it this or that?" citing different things as though they were similar to it. You don't see what you wish to remember, but you do see that it is not among the things mentioned to you. When this happens, does it seem to you that that memory has been completely obliterated? For that discernment which keeps you from accepting the false reminders is itself a part of remembering.
A: So it seems.
R: Such people do not yet see the true thing, but nonetheless cannot be misled or deceived, and they know what they are seeking well enough. But if someone were to say to you that you laughed a few days after you were born, you would not dare say that it is false; and if the one who said that were someone you trusted, you would not remember it, but you would believe it, because that entire time is hidden from you in the deepest oblivion. Or do you think otherwise?
A: I agree completely.
R: Therefore this kind differs greatly from the other kind of forgetting, which is really in the middle. For there is another kind which is more similar and nearer to remembering and receiving the truth. An example of this is when we see something, think for certain that we have seen it before, and even say that we know it, but as for where or when or how or in whose presence it came to our notice, we are hard pressed to recollect and remember. For example, if this happens to us with a person, we ask him where we met him; and when he tells us, suddenly the whole event floods back into our memory like a light and it is no longer a chore for us to remember. Is this kind of thing unknown to you or difficult to understand?
A: What could be clearer, or happen to me more often?
35) R: Those who are well educated in the liberal arts are like this. While learning, they uncover and in some way dig up things which were undoubtedly buried in forgetfulness.20 Nevertheless, they are not satisfied and will not stop until they gaze fully and completely at the face of truth, whose splendor shines faintly in those arts. But from these arts some false colors and forms pour, as it were, into the mirror of thought, and often mislead those who make inquiries, and deceive those who think that what they know or inquire about is all there is. Such imaginations are to be avoided with great caution. Their deceit is detected when they change with what we called the changing mirror of thought, while the face of truth remains single and invariable. For example, thought depicts to itself squares of varying sizes and, so to speak, holds them before the eyes. But the inner mind, which wishes to see what is true, turns rather, if it can, towards that according to which it judges that all these are squares.
A: What if someone says to us that the mind judges according to what it is used to seeing with the eyes?
R: If it is so taught, then why does it judge that a true sphere, of whatever size, is touched by a true plane at only one point? Does the eye see, or can it see such a thing, when something of this kind cannot be formed even by the imagination of thought? And do we not prove this when we represent with the mind's imagination the smallest circle imaginable, and then draw lines from it to its center? For when we draw two lines, between which one could hardly stick a needle, we cannot, even in our imagination, draw other lines between them, such that they would reach the center without touching each other. But reason declares that innumerable lines can be drawn, even in these unbelievably narrow spaces, which can touch only in the center, and that a circle could be drawn in every intervening space. Since imagination - phantasia - cannot do this and is even inferior to the eyes themselves (for through them this imagination intrudes upon the mind), it is clear that it differs greatly from the truth, which cannot be seen as long as this image is seen.
36) These things will be discussed with more care and precision when we begin to examine the understanding, which is the next part of our exposition.21 There we will explain and discuss, as best we can, any concerns about the life of the soul. For I believe that you have more than a little fear that human death, although it may not destroy the soul, may nonetheless bring forgetfulness of everything and of truth itself, if any truth has been gathered.
A: One cannot assert enough how fearful that evil is. For what would eternal life be like, or what death would not be preferable to it, if the soul only lives as we see it living in a newly born infant (to say nothing of the life that is in the womb, for I think that it also exists there)?
R: Be of good spirit. We know God will help us in our search. God promises that after this body we will have the greatest blessing and the greatest fullness of truth, without any deception.
A: May what we hope for come to pass.
1 On the minimal amount of certain knowledge available to us, cf. BV 7; CA 3, 18-19; Lib. arb. 1,16 and 2,7; de Trin. 15,21; CD 11,26.
2 A quotation from Cicero, De finibus bonorum et malorum 4,48.
3 See below, 2,33; also Conf. 7,16; VR 72; CA 1,23 and 2,5; de Ord. 1,3.
4 The same examples are use by Augustine in CA 3,26.
5 For Augustine on demons, see CD 8,14-15; 9:2-3; 9:18-22.
6 Retr. 4,1.
7 Reading non possumus.
8 On the actor Roscius, see Cicero, De Oratore 1,130; and Pro Quinto Roscio Comoedo.
9 On the sculptor Myron, see Cicero, Contra Verrem 4,135.
10 Cf. de Ord. 2,37.
11 A less than convincing etymological derivation: disciplina - discendo.
12 On the punishments Augustine received as a schoolboy, and the terror they inspired, see Conf. 1,14 and 1,23.
13 Reading partium.
14 Cf. Ep. 3; Imm. an. 1, 5, 7, and 9.
15 The reference is most likely to Ambrose, whose eloquence Augustine praises in Conf. 5,23. But Augustine at about this time also feels indebted to Theodorus (BV 1 and 4; but cf. Retr. 2).
16 The "other" is Zenobius; see de Ord. 1,20.
17 A fragment from the Roman tragic poet Pacuvius (ca. 220-130 B.C.E.), quoted by Cicero, De inventione 1,27.
18 Cf. de Gen. contra Man. 1,7.
19 Cf. de Ord. 2,43.
20 Cf. Retr. 4,4; de Trin. 12,24.
21 I.e., in de Imm. an.