Augustine's philosophy of life involves mediation, reviewing one's past and exercises for self-improvement. Centuries after Plato and before Freud he invented a 'spiritual exercise' in which every man and woman is able, through memory, to reconstruct and reinterpret life's aims. In this 2010 book, Brian Stock examines Augustine's unique way of blending literary and philosophical themes. He proposes a new interpretation of Augustine's early writings, establishing how the philosophical soliloquy has emerged as a mode of inquiry (...) and how it relates to problems of self-existence and self-history. The book also provides clear analysis of inner dialogue and discourse, and how, as inner dialogue complements and finally replaces outer dialogue, a style of thinking emerges, arising from ancient sources and a religious attitude indebted to Judeo-Christian tradition. (shrink)

New Blackfriars, Volume 102, Issue 1100, Page 595-597, July 2021.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:BENEDICT, THOMAS, OR AUGUSTINE? THE CHARACTER OF MACINTYRE'S NARRATIVE CHRISTOPHER J. THOMPSON University of St. Thomas St. Paul, Minnesota Introduction I N HIS Three Rival Versions of Moral Enquiry1 Alasdair Macintyre continues (with certain modifications) in a similar trajectory established in two earlier works, After Virtue and Whose Justice? Which Rationality? Against postEnlightenment portraits of moral reasoning, he consistently defends a conception of practical rationality which entails the (...) recognition of tradition, authority, and narrative as constitutive components of any rationally determined moral enquiry. Despite the consistent appeal to tradition, there is a significant development within Macintyre's reflections regarding the pre-eminent resources we are to draw upon. At the end of After Virtue we are asked to await a "doubtless very different" St. Benedict. In Whose Justice? Which Rationality? the Thomistic tradition emerges as the superior form of moral enquiry. While Thomism maintains a pre-eminence in Three Rival Versions of Moral Enquiry, I suggest that there is an increasingly Augustinian element emerging within his analysis and that this dimension underlies Macintyre's efforts in ways not previously specified. There is a warrant, then, for seeing within Augustine's efforts the paradigmatic "narrative form of moral enquiry." 1Alasdair Macintyre, Three Rival Versions of Moral Enquiry (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1990). Hereafter RV. 379 380 CHRISTOPHER J. THOMPSON That Augustine figures in Macintyre's reception of the Thomistic tradition is not necessarily striking, for part of what fuels Macintyre's increasing enthusiasm for St. Thomas is precisely the latter's capacity to draw upon the best of the Augustinian tradition of enquiry. Beyond what Macintyre himself has overtly recognized as Augustine's contribution to the thought of St. Thomas, however, I suggest that elements of Augustine's thought directly influence much of Macintyre 's own attempts at restoring a kind of tradition-guided enquiry. This Augustinian strain, moreover, not only serves to highlight features of Macintyre's analysis of Thomism, but also brings to light certain theological presuppositions essential to the kind of moral enquiry Macintyre hopes to retrieve. The character of Macintyre's narrative, then, leads us to St. Augustine. In After Virtue it is largely the Aristotelian tradition of enquiry which he defends against rival post-Enlightenment theories of morality. He argues that the analytic, linguistic, and phenomenological tools brought to bear upon the task of formulating a coherent conception of the moral life and moral enquiry have failed miserably, principally for two reasons. The first is that such contemporary efforts have neglected to realize that moral enquiry is embedded in a broader context of social practices, practices which are inevitably historically conditioned; thus a failure to recognize the historically situated character of moral enquiry distorts that account. The second reason is related to the first in that failure to acknowledge the historical character of such enquiry has resulted in a failure to recognize that much of our contemporary terms and tools of moral analysis are remnants from previous contexts of enquiry which are no longer mutually agreed upon nor recognized as relevant.' What has been lost, among other things, is the teleological metaphysics which serves as the context for nearly two millennia in the West. Uproot the stock of ethical norms from this tradition 2 For this notion of "moral remnants" surviving beyond the historical contexts in which they emerge, see Alasdair Macintyre, "Ought," Chapter 15 in Against the Self Images ofthe Age (New York: Schocken Books, 1971), 136-156, though in a different context and with very different effect. THE CHARACTER OF MACINTYRE 'S NARRATIVE 381 of enquiry and what remains is simply an amalgam of unrelated moral demands-some divinely sanctioned, some rooted in the passions, some the outburst of emotive whimsy-yet all lacking any coherent exposition.' The only hope is to retrieve something of the Aristotelian tradition of moral enquiry in which the notion of the virtues and the virtuous human person entails a conception of the moral life as bearing a narrative unity, a teleologically ordered whole in which one's actions bear an intrinsic unity and significance to the extent they complement one's telos. The narrative unity ascribed to the living of the good life is... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Language in the Confessions of AugustineDanuta ShanzerPhilip Burton. Language in the Confessions of Augustine. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007. xii + 198 pp. Cloth, $72.Burton’s intriguing book explores language in the Confessions of Augustine. The topic is exemplified in action in Augustine’s own development from infans to puer loquens, to schoolboy, to young rhetoric student, to chattering Manichee, to professional rhetorician, Christian philosopher, and ultimately (...) to biblical exegete and preacher. Burton documents not only Augustine’s own development but also his abstract thoughts about language (development by physis vs. thesis; Latin vs. Greek; pagan vs. Christian), culture, speech (man’s, God’s, creation’s), silence, grammar, rhetoric, reading, prayer, and style (to name but a few). To study Augustine on language is to explore a crucial phase in the transition from the ancient pagan to the late antique, Christian world. Augustine’s views exercised tremendous influence in the medieval world.Burton takes an exemplary and essayistic British approach to the question rather than a systematic Teutonic one. The six chapters, three of which contain material published in other venues, explore “Sermo,” “Alternative Comedy,” “The [End Page 442] Vocabulary of the Liberal Arts,” “Talking Books,” “Biblical Idioms,” and “The Paralinguistic.” Despite its monographic cover, the book is best understood as a series of individual essays, since all can be read separately with no resultant loss of continuity or logic.After an often profound and wide-ranging introduction (“Sermo”), Burton bounces off those who view the Aeneid as a crucial subtext for the Confessions to discuss his new idea: the importance of comedy (by way of theatre in general). Three readings (Alypius in the marketplace, Monica abandoned, and Monica meribibula), which contain clearly comic lexical items as well as plausibly comic scenarios (in two cases), are supposed to invoke comic and mimic subtexts. While this reviewer is sympathetic to the approach, and has argued similarly for Apuleius (“Piscatum Opiparem... Praestinavi: Apuleius, Met. 1, 24–25,” RFIC 124[1996]:445–54) as well as for Augustine (“Avulsa a latere meo: Augustine’s Spare Rib—Augustine Confessions 6.15.25,” JRS 92[2002]:157–76 at 161) these particular interpretations, even supported as they are by sophisticated philological arguments, do not ring quite true or solve any problems in the passages. These constellations of apparently comic vocabulary (some of which is also late and biblical) may simply be an artifact of Augustine’s personal style, not the shadows of a genre or written source. Why would Augustine include a comic substrate in what Courcelle considered his inserted VAlypii? Is mime (41) really relevant, since Augustine never mentions it in the Confessions? Burton’s desire to see scenarios for moral contrast-imitation (58) seems implausible. Because we constantly confront the real coincidence of “life” vs. “literature” in the realistic genres, it is often hard to argue necessarily literary origins for a plausibly realistic motif. This fact makes the argument for “alternative comedy” in Augustine’s life-cursus somewhat unlikely.“The Vocabulary of the Liberal Arts” illustrates Augustine’s deep ambiguity about the artes through the language he uses of them. Burton uses the concept of substitutability of loan-words to explore alternative terms. In grammatica vs. litteratura and rhetorica vs. eloquentia, we see Greek terms used for distancing. Burton does some very interesting things with statistics of occurrence to show Augustine “going off” words and being defensive (for dialectica, see 76–77). He also shows us how a significant avoidance (arithmetica) enables linkage with the Bible (through numerus). The same applies to philosophia vs. sapientia (80–81). This chapter has much to say that is absolutely right and also important. Puzzling however is Burton’s concluding suggestion that Augustine varies his vocabulary for the artes to revalorize (86) and demystify them so they not appear a “knack or trade” (87). This seems unlikely, given the fate of his project on the disciplinae and the way he sneers at most of them in the Confessions.“Talking Books” develops ideas in Flores (1975) and Stock (1996) and contains much interesting material. The chapter takes us from the ancient querelle about the spoken vs. the written word, to books in the Bible... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Ideas 61.2 (2000) 203-221 [Access article in PDF] Taste and "the Conversible World" in the Eighteenth Century Rochelle Gurstein In the middle of the nineteenth century a series entitled "Afoot" appeared in the literary magazine Blackwood's (1857), describing an Englishman's travels through Europe. In one installment the narrator tells of meeting a Yankee, who had just come from Florence the beautiful. Our friend approached (...) him warily, and began to ask him what he had seen, what admired. Then, after a little circumlocution, he dashed at once, in medias res, by saying, "Of course, you were in raptures with the Venus de Medici?"--expecting an answer such as he would himself have given. "Well, sir, to tell you the truth, I don't care much about those stone gals," was the answer he received. Our friend collapsed. Had anyone in his presence denied the orthodoxy of St. Augustine, or abjured the Thirty-Nine Articles, there would have been more sorrow in his anger, but scarcely more indignation. The Venus de Medici--a classic chef d'oeuvre--a thing which Praxiteles might have touched with his chisel, or Pericles have looked upon, to be called a "stone gal"! Had he doubted its genuineness, or spoken of it as a specimen of secondary art, he might have been deemed critical, hypercritical; but this was a classic impiety, an irreverence, a profanity. As if that were not enough, the Yankee's words betrayed "uncivism" and "egoism." He was undoubtedly among that type who "under their home influences, and the shadow of their own nationalities... have no aptitude for general civism." 1There is of course much that is familiar in this vignette, especially the contrast between Old World sophistication and American naivete. The unflappable Yankee who is irremediably unaware and proud of it and the overly fastidious, overly aestheticized Englishman were both destined to become stock characters in novels depicting Americans abroad, and here we see an early confrontation [End Page 203] between their rival sensibilities. Even though the Venus de Medici has now completely vanished from the modern imaginary museum of masterpieces, it was once among the most beloved, celebrated, and reproduced statues of antiquity; its repute was far beyond that of the Mona Lisa today, and from the time it was unearthed at the end of sixteenth century through the nineteenth century it was the indisputable exemplar of beauty. So it is no surprise that the Englishman, who, like all cultivated people of his day, was well versed in the world of classical antiquity, was mortified by the American's obliviousness before this "classic chef d'oeuvre"; for it revealed a man so utterly lacking in taste and sensibility that he did not have the wherewithal to know that he had been "irreverent" when he called the Venus de Medici "a stone gal."Where this anecdote moves into less familiar territory, however, is the Englishman's characterization of the Yankee's taste as uncivic and egoistic, as provincial and narrow. His willingness to judge a total stranger, to hold him accountable to a single standard of judgment, could not be in sharper contrast to our contemporary attitudes. Today subjectivity is celebrated in the common saying that everyone is entitled to his or her opinion and taste; what is more, diversity of tastes is regarded as a measure of personal freedom and democracy. Thus, the Englishman's quickness to judge would be evidence of elitism, oppression, even cultural imperialism, and this response no longer belongs to naifs who cannot tell the difference between the most revered sculpture and stone gals; it now belongs to the sophisticated, educated, modern (and postmodern) person. Today the very idea of drawing distinctions--not only between practiced taste and first impressions but also between art and commercial entertainment, art and obscenity, high and popular culture, scholarship and propaganda, let alone between beauty and ugliness, right and wrong, excellence and mediocrity--is suspect. And since the capacity to make precisely these kinds of distinctions was once understood as the essence of... (shrink)

Love and Saint Augustine. By Hannah Arendt. Edited and with an interpretative essay by Joanna Vecchiarelli Scott and Judith Chelius Stark (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996), xx + 233 pages. Augustine the Reader: Meditation, Self‐Knowledge, and the Ethics of Interpretation. By Brian Stock (Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1996), 463 pages.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Evidence of Augustinian 'Ressourcement' in the Franciscan Summa Halensis:The Cases of Contra Faustum and De spiritu et litteraMichael S. HahnAmong the thornier issues surrounding the Parisian Franciscan collaborative compilation Summa Halensis1 is the matter of its sources, consideration of which most often involves discernment of its contributing authors and their engagement with near-contemporary texts and trends in twelfth- and thirteenth-century scholastic theology.2 Hiding in plain sight, and thus easily (...) overlooked in this array of detailed concerns, is the privileged place afforded to Augustine of Hippo—and more precisely, to historically underexamined and underutilized of his works—within certain sections of the Franciscan Summa, a dynamic that seems to indicate a deliberate Augustinian ressourcement alongside more standard scholastic uses of stock textual auctoritates.3 [End Page 59]In order to establish the plausibility and general contours of such ressourcement, the present study examines the deployment of Augustine's Contra Faustum and De spiritu et littera in the Franciscan Summa's treatise on law, outlining both the originality and significance of this usage. The study falls into three main parts. In the first part, I offer a brief introduction to these two works, noting their import vis-à-vis Augustine's broader corpus. In the second, I provide a rough sketch of their respective reception histories, limning the standards of use that obtain in twelfth- and thirteenth-century scholastic writings prior to the Franciscan Summa. And in the third part, I detail the employment of these two works in the Summa itself, attending to where and how they are used, and how this usage variously coheres with and moves beyond the preceding theological tradition. Finally, by way of conclusion, I gesture at the immediate impact of this usage, taking as my primary example the later Summa theologiae of Thomas Aquinas. As I aim to show, although these important Augustinian works were not entirely unknown in the twelfth and early thirteenth centuries, there is little evidence of their first-hand utilization in scholastic theology prior to that of the Summa Halensis. Moreover, the Franciscan Summa's ample and markedly astute use of these works can be seen not only to undergird the Augustinian cast of its teaching on the distinction and relation of law and grace, but also to initiate and direct a broader return to these sources among the next generation of mendicant scholastics, Franciscan and Dominican alike.I. Augustine's Contra Faustum and De spiritu et litteraThe present inquiry concerns two very different polemic texts of Augustine that originate from the first decade and a half of the fifth century: the Contra Faustum, composed from around 400 to 403, one of the latest—and by far the longest and most biblically focused—of Augustine's anti-Manichaean works;4 and De spiritu et littera, composed in 412, [End Page 60] among the first of his works against the Pelagians.5 The length and sprawl of the former work is noted by Augustine in his Retractationes, where he presents this as a function of the scattered array of attacks by the Manichaean Faustus of Mileve:Against Faustus the Manichaean, who blasphemed the law and the prophets and their God and the incarnation of Christ, and who asserted that the scriptures of the New Testament by which he is refuted were falsified, I wrote a massive work (grande opus), giving my replies to his words that are set forth. There are thirty-three debates (disputationes), but why may I not call them books (libros) as well? For even if some among them are brief, they are nonetheless books.6Although Augustine touches on many other points in this "massive work," his main task centers on defending and elucidating the divinely ordered harmony of the Old and New Testaments in proclaiming Christ.7 The procedure he employs is chiefly exegetical, involving assertion of the prophetic nature of the Old Testament and illustration of this via figural interpretation of particular passages. What is most distinctive about the Contra Faustum is this specific approach to the Old Testament and its signature emphasis on the prophetic status of those from whom Christ takes his flesh, who especially through the giving... (shrink)

This paper explores changing attitudes toward novelty in early Christianity by focusing on a case study: Augustine of Hippo. It demonstrates that Augustine develops an unapologetically Christian version of the argument from antiquity, unapologetically Christian in that he redefines the very meaning of antiquity in terms of proximity to Christ and in that he relocates the argument from antiquity from the realm of apologetics, where it had become a stock weapon in the arsenal of his predecessors, to (...) the realm of intramural Christian debate. In the process, Augustine relativized temporal measures of “novelty” and “antiquity” and recalibrated the meaning of these terms theologically, with reference to Christ. (shrink)

The mention of “self-control” calls up certain stock images: Saint Augustine struggling to renounce carnal pleasures; dispassionate Mr. Spock of Star Trek; the dieter faced with tempting desserts. In these stock images reason is almost always assigned the power and authority to govern passions, desires, and appetites. But what if the passions were given the power to rule—what if, instead of sovereign reason, there were sovereign sentiments? My dissertation examines three sentimentalist conceptions of self-control: David Hume’s conception (...) of “strength of mind”; Adam Smith’s conception of “self-command”; and Jane Austen’s examination of these conceptions. Hume divests reason of motivational power, and with this new moral psychology comes a new conception of self-control. Humean strength of mind is indirect, artificial, and social—a regulatory system that humans cannot develop until societal systems of government and regulations have been instituted. Smith accepts Hume’s anti-rationalist arguments, but he emphasizes that only certain sentiments are fit to rule. And he argues that self-control develops without the sophisticated external conditions posited by Hume. Smithian self-command is the capacity to modify one’s feelings in accordance with a regulative ideal: the sentiments of an imagined impartial spectator. Austen responds to these conceptions, illustrating and complicating them. Sense and Sensibility explores the difficulties of discerning the feelings of others, and Persuasion dramatizes the difficulties of distinguishing strength of mind in another, offering sets of characters for the reader’s scrutiny, each with a competing claim to strength of mind. Taken together, Austen’s novels offer a fuller and more delicately shaded depiction of the sort of self-control that Hume and Smith imagine in their philosophical works. (shrink)

The concept of religion necessarily splits into two categories, the substantive principles that are polarized about the idea of the revered object, and the manner of' applying them in the private behavior of the worshiper or in the public institutions of the state. Theory and practice are not conflicting terms. Philosophy, however, has its roots in principles and hesitates to shape the external forms in which its counsels may be expressed. Therefore the studies here are confined to the didactic issues (...) at stake, and religion is not defined except as the thinker defines it himself. The philosophers appearing in this book are: Plato, Aristotle, Epicurus, Marcus Aurelius, Augustine, Leibniz, Spinoza, David Hume, Immanuel Kant, Auguste Comte--ten thinkers of the western world, from many ages and diverse stocks, who offer us their beliefs and conclusions. Though many distinguished names could be added to this list, the philosophies here expounded will serve to reflect the unflagging interest of humanity in this subject. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:A great deal of ink has been spilled on the topic of "Augustinian illumination" over the past two hundred years. Why add more? Although there have been, and continue to be, disagreements over the philosophical relevance of "Augustinian illumination," a standard picture of "Augustinian illumination" is widespread in journal articles, encyclopedias, and commentaries on medieval philosophy. "Augustinian illumination" is widely understood as that Platonic account of knowledge that holds (...) that absolutely certain, necessary truth is attained not via the senses, which are mutable and thus incapable of delivering certainty, but via awareness of the eternality of the divine ideas in the mind of God. Further, the secondary literature has routinely described "Augustinian illumination" as offering an account of knowledge that is different from and incompatible with Aristotle's emphasis on the necessity of input from sensible species in our knowledge of the natures of material things. Finally, the literature has consistently represented Bonaventure as continuing "Augustinian illumination," and Aquinas as rejecting it, and has represented Bonaventure and Aquinas as in agreement that Aristotle and Augustine's cognitive psychologies are incompatible.I have argued elsewhere that this standard representation of "Augustinian illumination" is perhaps best seen as the product of the era of the retrieval of medieval philosophy in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. Here, my focus is on two texts long considered central to Bonaventure's continuation of "Augustinian illumination" and Aquinas's rejection of it: Bonaventure's Question IV of the Quaestiones disputatae de scientia Christi , and Aquinas's Summa theologiae Ia. 84, 1-8 . My argument is that Aquinas and Bonaventure do not interpret Augustine as following a Platonic epistemological schema, nor do they agree that Aristotle and Augustine hold contradictory cognitive psychologies. Instead, both Bonaventure and Aquinas interpret Augustine as consciously rejecting Platonic epistemology and as ripe for assimilation with Aristotelian epistemological givens, including the notion that paradigmatic knowledge proceeds from the senses, and both articulate a cognitive psychology that harmonizes Augustinian and Aristotelian elements. In other words, if by "Augustinian illumination" we mean the continuation of a Platonic account of knowledge at odds with an Aristotelian emphasis on the necessity of the senses in the creation of certain knowledge, then at least in these texts, Bonaventure does not continue "Augustinian illumination," nor does Aquinas reject it, because "it" does not exist in their reading or interpretation of Augustine's texts.After some brief remarks about the history of the interpretative strain that has marked the commentary on these texts, I begin with Aquinas's ST Ia 84.1-8 in section I. Although it is chronologically a decade or so later, Aquinas's streamlined treatment of the role of the eternal reasons in the production of scientia sets up a clear comparison with Bonaventure's slightly earlier, longer Quaestiones disputatae de scientia Christi , which I discuss in section II. The similarities between Bonaventure and Aquinas's positions can be seen with greater clarity when contrasted with Henry of Ghent's slightly later treatment in the Summa theologiae, Q. 1, art. 1, 2, which I treat in section III. In particular what emerges is a clear contrast with how Ghent reads and assimilates the Augustinian corpus: Ghent's is an explicitly pro-Platonic Augustine, and his formulation of "illumination" is precisely the reading of Augustine that Bonaventure and Aquinas reject. I conclude with remarks highlighting the similarities in Bonaventure and Aquinas's approach vis a vis Ghent's and suggest the need to revise our notions of thirteenth century approaches to "Augustinian illumination" as well as our narratives regarding the assimilation of Aristotle's epistemological corpus in the middle-decades of the thirteenth-century.Interpretative strainBonaventure's question IV and Aquinas's ST Ia 84, 1-8 have long shown signs of interpretive strain. Detailed commentaries on this section of the Summa often skip over article 5 on the Augustinian eternal reasons entirely, or simply reiterate stock interpretations. Alternatively, it is grudgingly admitted that Question 84 evidences an. (shrink)

A popular approach to defining fictive utterance says that, necessarily, it is intended to produce imagining. I shall argue that this is not falsified by the fact that some fictive utterances are intended to be believed, or are non-accidentally true. That this is so becomes apparent given a proper understanding of the relation of what one imagines to one's belief set. In light of this understanding, I shall then argue that being intended to produce imagining is sufficient for fictive utterance (...) as well. (shrink)

_A fresh, new translation of Augustine’s inaugural work as a Christian convert_ The first four works written by St. Augustine of Hippo after his conversion to Christianity have influenced prominent thinkers from Boethius to Bernard Lonergan. Usually called the Cassiciacum dialogues, these four works are a “literary triumph,” combining Ciceronian and neo-Platonic philosophy, Roman comedy and Vergilian poetry, and early Christian theology. They are also, arguably, Augustine’s most charming works, exhibiting his whimsical levity and ironic wryness. In (...) this first dialogue, Augustine and his interlocutors have retreated to a quiet country villa north of Milan to explore the history and teachings of Academic Skepticism. Augustine is both sympathetic to and critical of the Skeptics, eventually hypothesizing that they could not possibly have believed everything they taught. The dialogue serves as a fitting launch point for a knowledge of God and the soul, the overall subject of the Cassiciacum tetralogy. Michael Foley’s clear, precise and playful translations are accompanied by his brief, illuminating commentaries. (shrink)

"Williams's masterful translation satisfies (at last!) a long-standing need. There are lots of good translations of Augustine's great work, but until now we have been forced to choose between those that strive to replicate in English something of the majesty and beauty of Augustine's Latin style and those that opt instead to convey the careful precision of his philosophical terminology and argumentation. Finally, Williams has succeeded in capturing both sides of Augustine's mind in a richly evocative, impeccably (...) reliable, elegantly readable presentation of one of the most impressive achievements in Western thought--Augustine's Confessions." --Scott MacDonald, Professor of Philosophy and Norma K. Regan Professor in Christian Studies, Cornell University. (shrink)

A half-billion years ago, a few species of single-celled protozoa stumbled irreversibly from loose social interaction into a tight, specialized interdependence. They became multi-celled metazoa, and human beings are one sort. Metazoa greatly transcend their constituent cells in lifetime, abilities, experiences and even materials (like bone). New kind of beings emerged out of the interactions of the old.

_A fresh, new translation of Augustine’s inaugural work as a Christian convert_ The first four works written by St. Augustine of Hippo after his conversion to Christianity are dialogues that have influenced prominent thinkers from Boethius to Bernard Lonergan. Usually called the Cassiciacum dialogues, these four works are a “literary triumph,” combining Ciceronian and neo-Platonic philosophy, Roman comedy and Vergilian poetry, and early Christian theology. They are also, arguably, Augustine’s most charming works, exhibiting his whimsical levity and (...) ironic wryness. In this second, brief dialogue, Augustine and his mother, brother, son, and friends celebrate his thirty-second birthday by having a “feast of words” on the nature of happiness that includes a bittersweet metaphorical birthday cake. Using a process of reasoning that is philosophical as well as theological, Augustine and the group conclude that the truly happy life consists of “having God” through faith, hope, and charity. Michael Foley’s clear, precise and playful translations are accompanied by his brief, illuminating commentaries. (shrink)

On Our Allotted Guardian Spirit is a lively and at times perplexing text combining general reflections on the nature of the soul with a discussion of the phenomenon of a personal guardian spirit. Plotinus wants to interpret Plato, and aims to integrate Plato's various statements about daimones into one comprehensive theory. This leads to some views that are, if not exotic, then at least strange on first encounter. However, a closer reading reveals that Plotinus is not interested in demonology per (...) se. Instead, the central concern of the treatise are ideas about the soul, the self, and self-consciousness. Plotinus' explorations produce a theory of the mind as the agent and activity responsible for a person’s ethical choices and conduct of life. The demon emerges as a philosophical tool passed down from Plato, but adapted and rationalized to try to explain motivation to action, the impulse toward the ethical life, and even the various differences in human ethical and psychological constitution. This innovative theory is a response to a strong and ongoing current of thought in the philosophical tradition. The introduction offers an overview of ancient demonologies, starting with Homer and the Presocratics, and is followed by an in-depth examination of Plato, the Stoics, Plotinus, and later Neoplatonic developments. As such the book presents Plotinus’ specific rationalizing response to the idea of a guardian spirit in the context of ancient philosophical demonologies. (shrink)

In this new translation the brilliant and impassioned descriptions of Augustine's colourful early life are conveyed to the English reader with accuracy and art. Augustine tells of his wrestlings to master his sexual drive, his rare ascent from a humble Algerian farm to the edge of the corridors of high power at the imperial court of Milan, and his renunciation of secular ambition and marriage as he recovered the faith that his mother had taught him. It was in (...) a Milan garden that Augustine finally achieved the act of will to Christian conversion, which he compared to a lazy man in bed finally deciding it is time to get up and face the day. ABOUT THE SERIES: For over 100 years Oxford World's Classics has made available the widest range of literature from around the globe. Each affordable volume reflects Oxford's commitment to scholarship, providing the most accurate text plus a wealth of other valuable features, including expert introductions by leading authorities, helpful notes to clarify the text, up-to-date bibliographies for further study, and much more. (shrink)

The best available introduction to the political thought of Augustine, if not to Christian political thought in general. Included are generous selections from _City of God_, as well as from many lesser-known writings of Augustine.

I am extremely grateful to all commentators for such patient, generous, and stimulating contributions. What follows are some thoughts to enrich the conversation, but these are by no means intended to be definitive answers to the worries they have raised.

New translations of two treatises by the fourth-century Christian thinker dealing with the possibility and nature of knowledge. Intended specifically for philosophical readers and suitable as a text for a course in medieval philosophy, Augustine, or church history. No subject index. Paper edition, $12.95. Annotation copyright by Book News, Inc., Portland, OR.

Has philosophy anything of value to offer Africa? Has Africa anything of value to offer contemporary philosophy? This text answers yes to both of these questions and deals with the question of human freedom and the problem of liberation in the context of postcolonial contemporary Africa.