Letter 1: 1. I Would not presume, even in playful discussion, to attack the philosophers of the Academy; for when could the authority of such eminent men fail to move me, did I not believe their views to be widely different from those commonly ascribed to them? Instead of confuting them, which is beyond my power, I have rather imitated them to the best o...

Letter 1 (386 AD) To Hermogenianus — Augustine sends greetings. 1. I would never presume, even in a playful debate, to go after the philosophers of the Academy [the "New Academy" — skeptical philosophers who argued that certain knowledge was impossible]. The authority of such brilliant thinkers would always carry weight with me — except that I believe their actual views were quite different from what people commonly attribute to them. Rather than trying to refute them (which is beyond me), I have tried my best to follow their example. It seems to me that their approach suited the times they lived in. Whatever flowed pure from the wellspring of Platonic philosophy was better channeled into dark, thorny thickets where only a handful of people could drink from it, rather than left flowing through open meadows where the common herd would inevitably muddy it. And I use the word "herd" deliberately — what is more brutish than the belief that the soul is made of matter? Against people who held such views, the New Academy's strategy of concealing the truth seems to me to have been wisely devised. But in our own age, when we see no real philosophers — I do not count those who merely wear the philosopher's cloak as worthy of that honored title — it seems to me that people need to be brought back to the hope of discovering truth. Especially those whom the Academy's teachings have scared off through the subtlety of their language, people who never tried to understand what the Academics actually meant. What was once useful for uprooting stubborn error should not now become an obstacle to planting the seeds of genuine knowledge. 2. In that earlier age, the competing philosophical schools were pursued with such passion that the only real fear was that someone might accidentally endorse a falsehood. Anyone whose position was demolished by skeptical arguments would immediately set about finding a better one, with the kind of persistence and care that came naturally to people of greater intellectual energy — people who were deeply convinced that truth, though buried deep and hard to decipher, really does lie hidden in the nature of things and of the human mind. Now, though, people are so lazy and so indifferent to serious learning that the moment they hear the most brilliant philosophers supposedly proved truth to be unattainable, they put their minds to sleep and pull the covers over them permanently. They would never presume to think themselves sharper than those great men — sharper than Carneades [a famous Academic skeptic, c. 214-129 BC], who with all his talent, diligence, long life, and vast learning, supposedly failed to discover truth. And if, fighting against their own laziness, they manage to rouse themselves enough to read the books that "prove" truth is denied to us, they sink back into a sleep so deep that not even a heavenly trumpet could wake them. 3. So while I gratefully accept your generous assessment of my little treatise, and while I value you enough to trust your judgment as much as your friendship, I ask you to pay special attention to one point and write back to me about it. Do you agree with what I said at the end of the third book [of Against the Academics]? I stated it with some hesitation rather than certainty, but I believe the ideas there are more likely to prove useful than to be dismissed as incredible. But whatever the value of those treatises, what makes me happiest is not that I "vanquished the Academics" (as you put it, speaking more from friendly bias than strict truth), but that I have broken free from the hateful chains that kept me away from the nourishing breasts of philosophy — chains forged by despair of ever finding the truth that feeds the soul.

Letter 1 (A.D. 386) To Hermogenianus Augustine Sends Greeting. 1. I Would not presume, even in playful discussion, to attack the philosophers of the Academy; for when could the authority of such eminent men fail to move me, did I not believe their views to be widely different from those commonly ascribed to them? Instead of confuting them, which is beyond my power, I have rather imitated them to the best of my ability. For it seems to me to have been suitable enough to the times in which they flourished, that whatever issued pure from the fountainhead of Platonic philosophy should be rather conducted into dark and thorny thickets for the refreshment of a very few men, than left to flow in open meadow-land, where it would be impossible to keep it clear and pure from the inroads of the vulgar herd. I use the word herd advisedly; for what is more brutish than the opinion that the soul is material? For defense against the men who held this, it appears to me that such an art and method of concealing the truth was wisely contrived by the new Academy. But in this age of ours, when we see none who are philosophers — for I do not consider those who merely wear the cloak of a philosopher to be worthy of that venerable name — it seems to me that men (those, at least, whom the teaching of the Academicians has, through the subtlety of the terms in which it was expressed, deterred from attempting to understand its actual meaning) should be brought back to the hope of discovering the truth, lest that which was then for the time useful in eradicating obstinate error, should begin now to hinder the casting in of the seeds of true knowledge. 2. In that age the studies of contending schools of philosophers were pursued with such ardour, that the one thing to be feared was the possibility of error being approved. For every one who had been driven by the arguments of the sceptical philosophers from a position which he had supposed to be impregnable, set himself to seek some other in its stead, with a perseverance and caution corresponding to the greater industry which was characteristic of the men of that time, and the strength of the persuasion then prevailing, that truth, though deep and hard to be deciphered, does lie hidden in the nature of things and of the human mind. Now, however, such is the indisposition to strenuous exertion, and the indifference to the liberal arts, that so soon as it is reported abroad that, in the opinion of the most acute philosophers, truth is unattainable, men send their minds to sleep, and cover them up forever. For they presume not, forsooth, to imagine themselves to be so superior in discernment to those great men, that they shall find out what, during his singularly long life, Carneades, with all his diligence, talents, and leisure, besides his extensive and varied learning, failed to discover. And if, contending somewhat against indolence, they rouse themselves so far as to read those books in which it is, as it were, proved that the perception of truth is denied to man, they relapse into lethargy so profound, that not even by the heavenly trumpet can they be aroused. 3. Wherefore, although I accept with the greatest pleasure your candid estimate of my brief treatise, and esteem you so much as to rely not less on the sagacity of your judgment than on the sincerity of your friendship, I beg you to give more particular attention to one point, and to write me again concerning it — namely, whether you approve of that which, in the end of the third book, I have given as my opinion, in a tone perhaps of hesitation rather than of certainty, but in statements, as I think, more likely to be found useful than to be rejected as incredible. But whatever be the value of those treatises [the books against the Academicians], what I most rejoice in is, not that I have vanquished the Academicians, as you express it (using the language rather of friendly partiality than of truth), but that I have broken and cast away from me the odious bonds by which I was kept back from the nourishing breasts of philosophy, through despair of attaining that truth which is the food of the soul. About this page Source. Translated by J.G. Cunningham. From Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, Vol. 1. Edited by Philip Schaff. (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1887.) Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight. <https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/1102001.htm>. Contact information. The editor of New Advent is Kevin Knight. My email address is feedback732 at newadvent.org. (To help fight spam, this address might change occasionally.) Regrettably, I can't reply to every letter, but I greatly appreciate your feedback — especially notifications about typographical errors and inappropriate ads.