2.  But the word knowledge has many meanings, and so those who make sport of simpler minds, and like to make themselves remarkable by astounding statements (just like jugglers who get the balls out of sight before men’s very eyes), hastily included everything in their general enquiry.  Knowledge, I say, has a very wide application, and knowledge may be got of what a thing is, by number, by bulk, by force, by its mode of existence, by the period of its generation, by its essence.  When then our opponents include the whole in their question, if they catch us in the confession that we know, they straightway demand from us knowledge of the essence; if, on the contrary, they see us cautious as to making any assertion on the subject, they affix on us the stigma of impiety.  I, however, confess that I know what is knowable of God, and that I know what it is which is beyond my comprehension. A various reading gives the sense “but do not know what is beyond my comprehension.”  So if you ask me if I know what sand is, and I reply that I do, you will obviously be slandering me, if you straightway ask me the number of the sand; inasmuch as your first enquiry bore only on the form of sand, while your second unfair objection bore upon its number.  The quibble is just as though any one were to say, Do you know Timothy?  Oh, if you know Timothy you know his nature.  Since you have acknowledged that you know Timothy, give me an account of Timothy’s nature.  Yes; but I at the same time both know and do not know Timothy, though not in the same way and in the same degree.  It is not that I do not know in the same way in which I do know; but I know in one way and am ignorant in one way.  I know him according to his form and other properties; but I am ignorant of his essence.  Indeed, in this way too, I both know, and am ignorant of, myself.  I know indeed who I am, but, so far as I am ignorant of my essence I do not know myself.