Herramientas de soporte

If the above portrait has any merit, then Augustine arrived in Milan as a man pursuing a life that did not agree with his deeper beliefs and, therefore, lacking the very kind of inner ‘quietude’ that Cicero the Sceptic promoted. If this is so, then in

276 In Late Antiquity, the most accessible introduction to Aristotle’s Categories was Porphyry’s Isagogue, which was translated into Latin by none other than Victorinus.

277 Besides Hortensius, Augustine had studied Cicero’s Academica and Tusculan Disputations from which he gained much of his philosophical knowledge. See Hagendahl, Augustine and the Latin Classics, 511.

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one respect Augustine’s conversion to Christianity can be seen as the reintegration of his two conflicted selves. And it is at least noteworthy that the same conversion that compelled him to give up teaching a form of rhetoric in which he did not really believe, culminated in his becoming the kind of eloquent orator—first as a priest and then as a bishop—that De inventione, De oratore and Hortensius had taught him to admire. This is not to claim that Augustine converted because he realised that the Church offered him a chance to be the kind of orator that his station in life might have otherwise precluded. To the contrary, Augustine’s first decision in converting was to withdraw into a life of leisure, to become, as it were, like the elder Cicero who, withdrawn from public life, composed Hortensius.²⁷⁸ But it remains fascinating that Augustine would eventually come to exemplify Cicero’s ideal in a way that likely would have remained beyond him had he never converted. Even if it should be shown that he did reject rhetoric altogether, his manner of life as priest and bishop belies the conviction of his words. But as will now be argued, he never rejected rhetoric, only the empty eloquence and rhetorical legerdemain in which he had long before lost faith. To the end of his life, however, he remained convinced that wisdom is best expressed eloquently not least because he had learned from experience that falsehood so often is.

As already argued in the previous chapter, Ambrose attracted Augustine because he embodied Cicero’s ideal by ministering to people through his eloquent words of wisdom. Ambrose is precisely the kind of man after which Augustine sought. Earlier he had thought that the Manichaean Faustus might be that person. He describes him as one by whom ‘many were captured as a result of his smooth talk’

278 Brown, Augustine of Hippo, 116.

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and that he was famous for his ‘soft eloquence’.²⁷⁹ He was reputed also to be a wise man, capable of answering all of Augustine’s difficult questions. But Augustine was disappointed:

When he came, I found him gracious and pleasant with words. He said things they usually say, but put it much more agreeably....My ears were already satiated with this kind of talk, which did not seem better to me because more elegantly expressed. Fine style does not make something true, nor has a man a wise soul because he has a handsome face and well-chosen eloquence (decorum eloquium). They who had promised that he would be so good were not good judges. He seemed to them prudent and wise because he charmed them by the way he talked.²⁸⁰

Faustus therefore epitomises the kind of rhetor that Augustine despised, whose empty eloquence wins people solely through charm without expressing any deeper wisdom.

In fact, Faustus turns out to have been a fairly typical Second Sophistic rhetor: he was learned in only ‘grammar and literature’ while ‘ignorant’ of the other ‘liberal arts’.²⁸¹ His popularity was due to a polished delivery that came from the daily practice of declamation. Augustine presents this picture of Faustus very carefully to underscore his belief that he was precisely the type of man the pre-Hortensius Augustine aspired to become. Furthermore, he exemplifies the false orator of Cicero’s De inventione, whose ‘fluency of speech’ is united with falsehood to draw people towards their ruin.

In Faustus’s case, Augustine simply comments that his charming manner of speaking was a ‘great trap of the devil!’²⁸² Not surprisingly, Augustine’s encounter with Faustus results in his beginning to doubt the wisdom of Manichaeism.²⁸³

279 conf. 5.3.3.

280 conf. 5.6.10 (CCL 27.61-62).

281 conf. 5.6.11. Augustine claims that Faustus had only read a few Ciceronian orations (popular as stylistic models), a few books of Seneca and the few Manichaean works that had been translated into Latin.

282 conf. 5.3.3.

283 Farrell, ‘The Rhetoric(s) of St. Augustine’s Confessions’, 276 argues that Augustine’s encounter with Faustus caused Augustine to realise that eloquence is no guarantor of wisdom.

But Augustine’s reaction to Hortensius implies that this realisation came earlier. The reason

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Augustine, however, mentions eloquentia in a short digression in the midst of his description of Faustus. He thanks God that he had already learned that truth does not depend on eloquence:

Already I had learnt from you that nothing is true merely because it is

eloquently (eloquenter) said, nor false because the signs coming from the lips (signa labiorum) make sounds deficient in a sense of style. Again, a statement is not true because it is enunciated in an unpolished idiom, nor false because the words are splendid. Wisdom and foolishness are like food that is nourishing or useless. Whether the words are ornate or not does not decide the issue. Food of either kind can be served in either town or country ware.²⁸⁴ While this can certainly be read as a criticism of eloquence, in reality Augustine is not arguing anything with which either Cicero or Victorinus would disagree. He is making two claims. First, that wisdom remains wisdom whether or not it is expressed with rhetorical flourish. Victorinus states much the same thing when he comments that eloquence adds nothing to wisdom.²⁸⁵ This stands in contrast to Second

Sophistic which, as Augustine (and modern scholars) understood it, claimed that style is of paramount importance. For Augustine, eloquence is nothing more than a

vehicle, either of truth or falsehood. His second implicit claim, however, is that wisdom must be expressed in some manner in order for it to be received. He uses the curious phrase ‘signs of the lips’ that is reminiscent of Cicero’s distinction between the voluntas, the will of the speaker or writer, and the signa or scriptum, the words by which the will is expressed.²⁸⁶ Augustine is here suggesting that eloquentia is signum why Augustine fails to be impressed with Faustus is because he had expected him to combine wisdom and eloquence. His failure to meet that expectation disappoints Augustine. This point is recognised by Raymond DiLorenzo, who argues that Faustus’s failure to live up to the ideal of Hortensius makes him representative of empty eloquence. See DiLorenzo, ‘Non pie quaerunt’, 119.

284 conf. 5.6.10 (CCL 27.62).

285 Eden, ‘Hermeneutics and the Ancient Rhetorical Tradition’ and ‘The Rhetorical Tradition and Augustinian Hermeneutics’.

286 See, for example, Cicero, De inv. 2.40.116; 44.128; 49.144-147. Kathy Eden, ‘Hermeneutics and the Ancient Rhetorical Tradition’, 75-79 provides an excellent discussion of this aspect of Cicero’s thought.

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rather than res. Wisdom, no matter the form in which it is presented, is the substance;

the Second Sophistics and Faustus’s admirers err in responding to eloquentia as though it were the res rather than simply a signum.

Augustine offers Faustus as a foil to Ambrose. Both are religious leaders famous for their eloquence. But Augustine approached each person for different reasons: on the one hand, he listened to Faustus for his reputed wisdom only to encounter empty rhetoric, and on the other, he listened to Ambrose for his reputed eloquence to find, despite his deep prejudice, the wisdom for which he had

yearned.²⁸⁷ Again, Ambrose fulfils the ideals of a philosophical rhetor: most of his time was devoted either to the public role of edifying his people through his eloquent wisdom or to the private practice of imbibing wisdom through his silent reading.²⁸⁸ Thus, his whole life was directed towards redirecting the souls of his listeners through eloquent wisdom towards God. And his eloquence was so powerful that, again like Cicero’s proto-orator, those who listened could not help but eventually consume his wisdom.

Augustine’s encounter with Ambrose began his process of conversion to Christianity. Interestingly, it was during this unsettled time that Augustine turned from Cicero’s Academic Scepticism to study the books of the Platonists themselves, albeit in Victorinus’s Latin translation.²⁸⁹ Simplicianus, perhaps unaware of

287 DiLorenzo argues that Ambrose is persuasive because his preaching fulfils the ideals of Cicero’s perfect rhetoric in which eloquence and wisdom are combined to reach people at the point of their convictions. See DiLorenzo, ‘Ciceronianism’, 176.

288 conf. 6.3.3. Ralph Flores argues that Ambrose transformed Augustine’s ideas about reading and speech by showing him that allegorical reading creates a ‘mode of speech whose eloquence and wisdom are inseparable’. In other words, allegorical interpretation provided Augustine with the means of looking beyond the literal words themselves to perceive a deeper, spiritual significance. See Flores (1975), 5-6.

289 conf. 8.2.3. Except for a few brief quotes in Boethius, all of Victorinus’s translations of Neoplatonic philosophy have been lost. Only his translation of Porphyry’s Isagoge remains.

See Bruce, ‘Marius Victorinus and His Works’, 139 for a brief discussion of Victorinus’s remains.

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Augustine’s flirtation with Scepticism, congratulated him that he ‘had not fallen in with the writings of other philosophers’ since in Neoplatonism ‘God and his Word keep slipping in’.²⁹⁰ Although during the past hundred years much has been made of the impact of Neoplatonism on Augustine’s thought, the debate has overlooked how his discovery of Plotinus (through the translation of a famous rhetor!) would have drawn Augustine even closer to the intellectual background of Victorinus and Capella; like them he was becoming a thoroughly Neoplatonic Ciceronian. Of course, Hortensius itself, with its concern for freeing the soul from the entanglements of this life so that it may ascend to the divine, would have prepared him for this development. But Augustine states explicitly that in reading the ‘books of the Platonists’ he was ‘admonished to return’ into himself where he became aware of a transcendent light that he recognised as true Being.²⁹¹ In other words, Victorinus’s translations compelled him to reach out for the kind of virtue as defined by

Neoplatonism and Victorinus: a soul conforming itself to its original nature and seeking to ascend toward the divine. Whatever the impact, however, Augustine’s time as a Neoplatonic Ciceronian was short-lived as it quickly, though not without anguish, gave way to his complete conversion to Christianity.

The approach of that conversion caused Augustine to decide that he could not continue to work as a rhetor. The primary reason for this is that he no longer cared for the riches and vanity after which he had sought throughout his adult life. His whole mind turned towards wisdom and discovering God as he began to mimic the elder Cicero who withdrew from a public life of oratory to a private life of

philosophy. But this was a gradual process for Augustine. He writes, ‘I made a decision in your sight not to break off teaching with an abrupt renunciation, but

290 conf. 8.2.3.

291 conf. 7.10.16.

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quietly to retire from my post as a salesman of words in the markets of rhetoric’.²⁹² He continued for a time to work as a rhetor, to ‘sell’ the ‘art of public speaking’,²⁹³ but now he did so only to avoid public scandal and to use his impending vacation as a quiet way to retire from public life.²⁹⁴

One should note the words and phrases Augustine uses to describe his decision to give up his career as an Imperial rhetor. He is dismissive not of rhetoric itself but of rhetors and their craft; he never claims that he no longer esteemed oratory at the time of his conversion, but he saw little worth in teaching ars rhetorica, or at least, doing so to earn a living and to seek honour.²⁹⁵ Indeed, he doubts that oratory is something that really can be taught, sounding very much like Cicero who was equally dismissive about whether eloquentia could actually be inculcated through the teaching of rhetorical technique.²⁹⁶ In fact, as will be shown, Augustine’s attitude towards his former career is strikingly similar to that of first-century B.C. patricians towards the new-fangled rhetorical schools. Ultimately, what Augustine rejects, like Cicero, is a cheap eloquence that he perceives as little more than verbal trickery.