For not as I now speak,
did I feel when I turned to those Scriptures; but they seemed to me
unworthy to he compared to the stateliness of Tully: for my swelling
pride shrunk from their lowliness, nor could my sharp wit pierce the
interior thereof. Yet were they such as would grow up in a little one.
But I disdained to be a little one; and, swollen with pride, took
myself to be a great one.
Therefore I fell among men proudly doting, exceeding carnal and
prating, in whose mouths were the snares of the Devil, limed with
the mixture of the syllables of Thy name, and of our Lord Jesus
Christ, and of the Holy Ghost, the Paraclete, our Comforter. These
names departed not out of their mouth, but so far forth as the sound
only and the noise of the tongue, for the heart was void of truth. Yet
they cried out "Truth, Truth," and spake much thereof to me, yet it
was not in them: but they spake falsehood, not of Thee only (who truly
art Truth), but even of those elements of this world, Thy creatures.
And I indeed ought to have passed by even philosophers who spake truth
concerning them, for love of Thee, my Father, supremely good, Beauty
of all things beautiful.
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