Chapter 28.—Whether We Ought to
Love the Love Itself with Which We Love Our Existence and Our
Knowledge of It, that So We May More Nearly Resemble the Image of
the Divine Trinity.
We have said as much as the scope
of this work demands regarding these two things, to wit, our
existence, and our knowledge of it, and how much they are loved by
us, and how there is found even in the lower creatures a kind of
likeness of these things, and yet with a difference. We have yet
to speak of the love wherewith they are loved, to determine whether
this love itself is loved. And doubtless it is; and this is the
proof. Because in men who are justly loved, it is rather love
itself that is loved; for he is not justly called a good man who
knows what is good, but who loves it. Is it not then obvious that
we love in ourselves the very love wherewith we love whatever good
we love? For there is also a love wherewith we love that which we
ought not to love; and this love is hated by him who loves that
wherewith he loves what ought to be loved. For it is quite
possible for both to exist in one man. And this co-existence is
good for a man, to the end that this love which conduces to our
living well may grow, and the other, which leads us to evil may
decrease, until our whole life be perfectly healed and transmuted
into good. For if we were beasts, we should love the fleshly and
sensual life, and this would be our sufficient good; and when it
was well with us in respect of it, we should seek nothing beyond.
In like manner, if we were trees, we could not, indeed, in the
strict sense of the word, love anything; nevertheless we should
seem, as it were, to long for that by which we might become more
abundantly and luxuriantly fruitful. If we were stones, or waves,
or wind, or flame, or anything of that kind, we should want,
indeed, both sensation and life, yet should possess a kind of
attraction towards our own proper position and natural order. For
the specific gravity of bodies is, as it were, their love, whether
they are carried downwards by their weight, or upwards by their
levity. For the body is borne by its gravity, as the spirit by
love, whithersoever it is borne.
499
But we are men, created in the
image of our Creator, whose eternity is true, and whose truth is
eternal, whose love is eternal and true, and who Himself is the
eternal, true, and adorable Trinity, without confusion, without
separation; and, therefore, while, as we run over all the works
which He has established, we may detect, as it were, His
footprints, now more and now less distinct even in those things
that are beneath us, since they could not so much as exist, or be
bodied forth in any shape, or follow and observe any law, had they
not been made by Him who supremely is, and is supremely good and
supremely wise; yet in ourselves beholding His image, let us, like
that younger son of the gospel, come to ourselves, and arise and
return to Him from whom by our sin we had departed. There our
being will have no death, our knowledge no error, our love no
mishap. But now, though we are assured of our possession of these
three things, not on the testimony of others, but by our own
consciousness of their presence, and because we see them with our
own most truthful interior vision, yet, as we cannot of
our
selves know how long they are to continue, and whether
they shall never cease to be, and what issue their good or bad use
will lead to, we seek for others who can acquaint us of these
things, if we have not already found them. Of the trustworthiness
of these witnesses, there will, not now, but subsequently, be an
opportunity of speaking. But in this book let us go on as we have
begun, with God’s help, to speak of the city of God, not in its
state of pilgrimage and mortality, but as it exists ever immortal
in the heavens,—that is, let us speak of the holy angels who
maintain their allegiance to God, who never were, nor ever shall
be, apostate, between whom and those who forsook light eternal and
became darkness, God, as we have already said, made at the first a
separation.
499
Compare the
Confessions,
xiii. 9.