My confession then, O my
God, in Thy sight, is made silently, and not silently. For in sound,
it is silent; in affection, it cries aloud. For neither do I utter any
thing right unto men, which Thou hast not before heard from me; nor
dost Thou hear any such thing from me, which Thou hast not first
said unto me.
What then have I to do with men, that they should hear my
confessions- as if they could heal all my infirmities- a race, curious
to know the lives of others, slothful to amend their own? Why seek
they to hear from me what I am; who will not hear from Thee what
themselves are? And how know they, when from myself they hear of
myself, whether I say true; seeing no man knows what is in man, but
the spirit of man which is in him? But if they hear from Thee of
themselves, they cannot say, "The Lord lieth." For what is it to
hear from Thee of themselves, but to know themselves? and who
knoweth and saith, "It is false," unless himself lieth? But because
charity believeth all things (that is, among those whom knitting
unto itself it maketh one), I also, O Lord, will in such wise
confess unto Thee, that men may hear, to whom I cannot demonstrate
whether I confess truly; yet they believe me, whose ears charity
openeth unto me.
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