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CHAPTER
XII
21. Meanwhile, thou gavest her yet another answer, as I
remember--for I pass over many things, hastening on to those
things which more strongly impel me to confess to thee--and
many things I have simply forgotten. But thou gavest her
then another answer, by a priest of thine, a certain bishop
reared in thy Church and well versed in thy books. When
that woman had begged him to agree to have some discussion
with me, to refute my errors, to help me to unlearn evil
and to learn the good[81]-
- for it was his habit to do this when he found people ready
to receive it--he refused, very prudently, as I afterward
realized. For he answered that I was still unteachable,
being inflated with the novelty of that heresy, and that
I had already perplexed divers inexperienced persons with
vexatious questions, as she herself had told him. "But let
him alone for a time," he said, "only pray God for him.
He will of his own accord, by reading, come to discover
what an error it is and how great its impiety is." He went
on to tell her at the same time how he himself, as a boy,
had been given over to the Manicheans by his misguided mother
and not only had read but had even copied out almost all
their books. Yet he had come to see, without external argument
or proof from anyone else, how much that sect was to be
shunned--and had shunned it. When he had said this she was
not satisfied, but repeated more earnestly her entreaties,
and shed copious tears, still beseeching him to see and
talk with me. Finally the bishop, a little vexed at her
importunity, exclaimed, "Go your way; as you live, it cannot
be that the son of these tears should perish." As she often
told me afterward, she accepted this answer as though it
were a voice from heaven.
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