|
|
| print this
CHAPTER
V
9. I resolved, therefore, to direct my mind to the Holy Scriptures, that I might
see what they were. And behold, I saw something not comprehended by the proud,
not disclosed to children, something lowly in the hearing, but sublime in the
doing, and veiled in mysteries. Yet I was not of the number of those who could
enter into it or bend my neck to follow its steps. For then it was quite different
from what I now feel. When I then turned toward the Scriptures, they appeared
to me to be quite unworthy to be compared with the dignity of Tully.[64] For my inflated
pride was repelled by their style, nor could the sharpness of my wit penetrate
their inner meaning. Truly they were of a sort to aid the growth of little ones,
but I scorned to be a little one and, swollen with pride, I looked upon myself
as fully grown.
|

|