The Teacher 1–4

Augustine: What do you think we want to accomplish when we speak? Adeodatus: As far as it occurs to me now, either to teach or to learn. A. One of these I see and agree with: for it is plain that by speaking we want to teach; but to learn, how? Ad. How else, do you think, but when we ask questions? A. Even then I understand that we want nothing but to teach. For I ask you, do you ask a question for any other reason than to teach the person you ask what you want? Ad. You are right. A. So you see now that by speaking we seek nothing but to teach. Ad. I do not quite see it: for if speaking is nothing but uttering words, I see that we do this when we sing. And since we often do that alone, with no one present to learn, I do not think we want to teach anything. A. But I think there is a certain kind of teaching by reminding, a great one indeed, as the matter itself will show in this conversation of ours. But if you do not think that we learn when we remember, or that one who reminds teaches, I do not resist you; and I now set down two reasons for speaking: either to teach, or to remind others or ourselves; which we also do when we sing. Or do you not think so? Ad. Not at all: for it is very rare that I sing to remind myself, but only to delight myself. A. I see what you mean. But do you not notice that what delights you in singing is a certain modulation of sound; and since this can be added to words and taken away from them, speaking is one thing and singing another? For there is singing on flutes and on the lyre, and birds sing, and we sometimes produce a musical sound without words, a sound that can be called song but cannot be called speech. Is there anything you would say against this? Ad. Nothing at all. A. Then you think that speech was instituted only for the sake of teaching or reminding? Ad. I would think so, if I were not troubled by the fact that when we pray we certainly speak; and yet it is not right to believe that God is taught or reminded of anything by us. A. I think you do not know that we have been commanded to pray in closed rooms, by which name the inner places of the mind are meant, for no other reason than this: that God, in order to grant us what we desire, does not seek to be reminded or taught by our speech. For one who speaks gives an outward sign of his will by articulate sound; but God is to be sought and entreated in the very secret places of the rational soul, which is called the inner man; for he has willed these to be his temples. Or have you not read in the Apostle, “Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and the Spirit of God dwells in you?” and, “that Christ dwells in the inner man”? And have you not noticed in the prophet, “Speak in your hearts, and be pierced with sorrow on your beds: offer the sacrifice of righteousness, and hope in the Lord”? Where do you think the sacrifice of righteousness is offered, if not in the temple of the mind and on the beds of the heart? And where one must sacrifice, there one must also pray. So there is no need of speech when we pray, that is, of sounding words, except perhaps, as priests do, to signify one's mind, not that God may hear but that men may, and by a kind of agreement through being reminded may be lifted up to God. Or do you think otherwise? Ad. I agree entirely. A. Then you are not troubled that the supreme Teacher, when he taught his disciples to pray, taught certain words; in which he seems to have done nothing else but teach how one ought to speak in praying? Ad. That does not trouble me at all: for he taught them not words but the things themselves by words, by which they might remind themselves to whom and for what they should pray, when they prayed, as has been said, in the inner places of the mind. A. You understand rightly. For at the same time I believe you notice that, even if someone contends that, although we make no sound, yet because we think the words themselves we speak inwardly in the mind, even so by speech we do nothing but remind, since the memory, in which the words inhere, by turning them over makes the things themselves come to mind, of which words are signs. Ad. I understand and follow.

A. So it is agreed between us that words are signs. Ad. It is agreed. A. Well, can a sign be a sign unless it signifies something? Ad. It cannot. A. How many words are there in this line: “If it pleases the gods that nothing be left of so great a city”? Ad. Eight. A. So there are eight signs. Ad. That is so. A. I believe you understand this line. Ad. Well enough, I think. A. Tell me what each word signifies. Ad. I see indeed what “if” signifies; but I find no other word by which it can be explained. A. At least you find where whatever is signified by this word is? Ad. It seems to me that “if” signifies doubt: and where is doubt, if not in the mind? A. I accept that for the moment; go on with the rest. Ad. What else does “nothing” signify but that which is not? A. Perhaps you are right; but I am held back from agreeing by what you granted above, that a sign is not a sign unless it signifies something; and what is not can in no way be something. So the second word in this line is not a sign, because it does not signify something; and we wrongly agreed that all words are signs, or that every sign signifies something. Ad. You press me too hard; but when we have nothing to signify, it is utterly foolish to utter any word. And you, in speaking with me now, I believe, utter no sound in vain, but by all that bursts from your mouth you give me a sign so that I may understand something; so you ought not to pronounce these two syllables when you speak, if by them you signify nothing. But if you see that a necessary statement is made by them, and that we are taught or reminded when they sound in our ears, you surely also see what I want to say, but cannot explain. A. What then shall we do? Shall we say that this word signifies a certain state of mind, when it does not see a thing and yet finds, or thinks it has found, that it does not exist, rather than the thing itself, which is nothing? Ad. Perhaps that is just what I was trying to explain. A. Let us pass on from here, then, however the matter stands, so that something most absurd may not happen to us. Ad. What, pray? A. That nothing should detain us, and yet we should suffer delay. Ad. That is ridiculous indeed, and yet somehow I see that it can happen; indeed, I see plainly that it has happened. A. In its place, God willing, we shall understand this kind of contradiction more clearly: now go back to that line, and try, as best you can, to explain what its other words signify. Ad. The third is the preposition “from” (ex), for which, I think, we can say “of” (de). A. I am not asking you to give, for one very well known word, another equally well known word that signifies the same thing, if indeed it signifies the same; but for the moment let us grant that it is so. Certainly, if the poet had said not “from (ex) so great a city” but “of (de) so great a city,” and I asked you what “of” signified, you would say “from,” since these would be two words, that is, signs, signifying, as you think, one thing; but I am asking for that very one thing, whatever it is, which is signified by these two signs. Ad. It seems to me to signify a certain separation from that thing in which something was, which is said to be “from” it; whether that thing no longer remains, as in this line, where, though the city did not remain, some Trojans could be from it; or whether it remains, as we say that there are merchants in Africa from the city of Rome. A. Granting you that these things are so, and not listing how many things may perhaps be found outside this rule of yours, it is certainly easy for you to notice that you have explained words by words, that is, signs by signs, and very well known ones by very well known ones; but I would like you, if you could, to show me the very things of which these are signs.

Ad. I am surprised that you do not know, or rather pretend not to know, that what you want cannot possibly be done by my answer, since we are conversing, where we can answer only with words. But you ask for things which, whatever they are, are certainly not words, and yet you too ask me for them with words. So first ask without words, so that I may then answer on that condition. A. You are within your rights, I admit: but if I asked what these three syllables signify when one says paries (“wall”), could you not point with your finger, so that I would see the very thing of which this three-syllable word is a sign, while you showed it but uttered no words? Ad. I grant that this can be done only with names by which bodies are signified, if those bodies are present. A. Do we call color a body, or not rather a certain quality of a body? Ad. That is so. A. Why then can it too be pointed out with the finger? Or do you add to bodies the qualities of bodies as well, so that these too, when present, can nevertheless be taught without words? Ad. When I said bodies, I meant all bodily things to be understood, that is, all things perceived in bodies. A. Consider, however, whether some exceptions must be made here too. Ad. You are right to warn me: I should have said not all bodily things, but all visible things. For I admit that sound, smell, taste, weight, heat, and the other things that belong to the other senses, though they cannot be perceived without bodies and are therefore bodily, cannot be pointed out with the finger. A. Have you never seen how people converse, as it were, with the deaf by gesture, and the deaf themselves, no less by gesture, ask, or answer, or teach, or indicate all or at least most of what they want? When this is done, not only visible things are shown without words, but also sounds and tastes and other things of this kind. Indeed actors in the theaters often reveal and set forth whole stories by dancing, without words. Ad. I have nothing to say against this, except that neither I, nor even that dancing actor himself, could show you without words what “from” signifies. A. Perhaps you are right: but let us suppose he could; you do not doubt, I think, that whatever that bodily movement was by which he tried to show me the thing signified by this word, it would not be the thing itself, but a sign. So here too he will indicate, not indeed a word by a word, but still a sign by a sign; so that both this monosyllable “from” and that gesture would signify one certain thing, which I wanted to be shown to me without signifying. Ad. How can what you ask be done, I beg you? A. In the way the wall could. Ad. Not even that, as the advancing argument has shown, can be shown without a sign. For the pointing of the finger is certainly not the wall, but a sign is given by which the wall can be seen. So I see nothing that can be shown without signs. A. What if I asked you what walking is, and you got up and did it? Would you not be using the thing itself to teach me, rather than words or any other signs? Ad. I admit it is so, and I am ashamed not to have seen a thing so obvious; from which a thousand things now occur to me which can be shown by themselves, not by signs, such as eating, drinking, sitting, standing, shouting, and countless others. A. Come, now tell me: if, wholly ignorant of the meaning of this word, I asked you while you were walking what walking is, how would you teach me? Ad. I would do that very thing somewhat faster, so that after your question you would be alerted by something new; and yet nothing else would be done but what ought to be shown. A. Do you know that walking is one thing and hurrying another? For one who walks does not necessarily hurry, and one who hurries does not necessarily walk: for we speak of hurrying in writing and reading and countless other things. So if, after my question, you did faster what you were doing, I would think that walking is nothing else than hurrying; for that is what you had added that was new; and so I would be deceived. Ad. I admit that we cannot show a thing without a sign if we are asked while we are doing it: for if we add nothing, the one who asks will think that we do not want to show him and, scorning him, are continuing what we were doing. But if he asks about things we can do, and does not ask at the time we are doing them, we can, by doing it after his question, show what he asks by the thing itself rather than by a sign: unless perhaps he asks me while I am speaking what speaking is; for whatever I say to teach him, I must speak; and from there I will go on teaching until I make plain to him what he wants, not departing from the very thing he wanted shown to him, nor seeking signs by which to show it besides the thing itself.

A. Very acutely said: so see whether we now agree that those things can be shown without signs which we are not doing when we are asked, and yet can do at once, or when the signs themselves are perhaps what we do. For when we speak we make signs, from which the word “signify” is derived. Ad. Agreed. A. So when the question is about certain signs, signs can be shown by signs; but when it is about things that are not signs, they can be shown either by doing them after the inquiry, if they can be done, or by giving signs through which they can be noticed. Ad. That is so. A. In this threefold division, then, let us first consider, if you please, that signs are shown by signs: are words the only signs? Ad. No. A. It seems to me, then, that in speaking we signify by words either words themselves, or other signs, as when we say “gesture” or “letter” (for what is signified by these two words is nevertheless signs), or something else that is not a sign, as when we say “stone”: for this word is a sign, since it signifies something, but what is signified by it is not therefore a sign. That kind, however, in which things that are not signs are signified by words, does not belong to the part we proposed to discuss. For we undertook to consider the showing of signs by signs, and we found two parts in it: when we teach or remind by signs either the same signs or other signs. Or do you not think so? Ad. It is plain. A. Tell me, then, to what sense the signs that are words belong. Ad. To hearing. A. What about gesture? Ad. To sight. A. What about when we find words written? Are they not words, or are they more truly understood as signs of words? So that a word is what is uttered by an articulate voice with some meaning; and a voice cannot be perceived by any sense other than hearing; so it comes about that when a word is written, it becomes a sign to the eyes, by which what belongs to the ears comes to mind. Ad. I agree entirely. A. I think you also agree that when we say “name” (nomen), we signify something. Ad. That is true. A. What, then? Ad. That by which each thing is called, such as Romulus, Rome, virtue, river, and countless others. A. Do these four names signify no things? Ad. On the contrary, they signify some. A. Is there no difference between these names and the things they signify? Ad. On the contrary, a very great one. A. I would like to hear from you what it is. Ad. This, first of all: that these are signs, those are not. A. Shall we call “signifiables” the things that can be signified by signs and are not signs, as we call “visibles” the things that can be seen, so that we may discuss them more conveniently from now on? Ad. By all means. A. Well, are those four signs you pronounced a little while ago signified by no other sign? Ad. I am surprised that you think I have already forgotten that we found that written things are signs of the signs uttered by the voice. A. Tell me what difference there is between them. Ad. That the former are visible, the latter audible. For why should you not admit this name too, if we have admitted “signifiables”? A. I admit it entirely, and gladly. But again I ask: can these four signs be signified by no other audible sign, as you remembered the visible ones? Ad. I remember that this too was said quite recently. For I had answered that “name” signifies something, and had placed these four under its signification; and I recognize that both that word and these, since they are uttered by the voice, are audible. A. What difference, then, is there between an audible sign and the audible things signified, which are again signs? Ad. Between what we say, “name,” and these four which we placed under its signification, I see this difference: that the former is an audible sign of audible signs; while these are indeed audible signs, yet not of signs but of things, partly visible, such as Romulus, Rome, river, partly intelligible, such as virtue. A. I accept and approve: but do you know that everything uttered by an articulate voice with some meaning is called a word (verbum)? Ad. I know. A. So a name too is a word, since we see that it is uttered by an articulate voice with some meaning; and when we say that an eloquent man uses good words, he certainly uses names too; and when the slave in Terence said to his old master, “Good words, I pray,” he had spoken many names too. Ad. I agree. A. You grant, then, that by these two syllables we utter when we say verbum (“word”), “name” too is signified, and therefore that the former is a sign of the latter. Ad. I grant it. A. I would like you to answer this too. Since “word” is a sign of “name,” and “name” is a sign of “river,” and “river” is a sign of a thing that can now be seen, and you have said what difference there is between this thing and “river,” that is, its sign, and between this sign and “name,” which is the sign of this sign: what difference do you think there is between the sign of “name,” which we found to be “word,” and “name” itself, of which it is the sign? Ad. I understand the difference to be this: that the things signified by “name” are also signified by “word”; for as “name” is a word, so “river” is a word; but not all the things signified by “word” are also signified by “name.” For both that “if,” which stands at the head of the line you proposed, and this “from,” about which we have been dealing so long and have reached these points by reason as our guide, are words, yet not names; and many such are found. So since all names are words, but not all words are names, I think it is plain what difference there is between “word” and “name,” that is, between the sign of a sign that signifies no other signs, and the sign of a sign that again signifies others. A. Do you grant that every horse is an animal, yet not every animal is a horse? Ad. Who would doubt it? A. So there is the same difference between “name” and “word” as between horse and animal. Unless perhaps you are held back from agreeing because we also use “word” (verbum) in another way, for what is inflected by tenses, such as scribo (“I write”), scripsi (“I wrote”), lego (“I read”), legi (“I have read”), which are plainly not names. Ad. You have said exactly what was making me doubt. A. Do not let that trouble you. For we call “signs” in general all things that signify something, among which we also find words. We also speak of military standards (signa), which are already called signa in a proper sense, and to which words do not belong. And yet if I said to you that, as every horse is an animal but not every animal is a horse, so every word is a sign but not every sign is a word, you would not, I think, doubt it at all. Ad. Now I understand, and agree entirely, that the difference between that general term “word” and “name” is the same as between animal and horse. A. Do you also know that when we say “animal,” this three-syllable name uttered by the voice is one thing, and what is signified is another? Ad. I already granted this above about all signs and signifiables. A. Do all signs seem to you to signify something other than what they are, as this three-syllable word, when we say “animal,” in no way signifies the same thing that it is itself? Ad. Not at all: for when we say “sign,” it signifies not only all other signs whatever, but also itself; for it is a word, and certainly all words are signs. A. Well, does not something similar happen with this two-syllable word, when we say verbum? For if everything uttered by an articulate voice with some meaning is signified by this two-syllable word, it too is included in this class. Ad. That is so. A. Well, is not “name” in a similar case? For it signifies names of all genders, and the name nomen itself is a name of the neuter gender. Or if I asked you what part of speech nomen is, could you answer me correctly except “a name”? Ad. You are right. A. So there are signs which, among the other things they signify, also signify themselves. Ad. There are. A. Does this four-syllable sign seem to you to be of that kind, when we say conjunctio (“conjunction”)? Ad. Not at all: for the things it signifies are not names; but this is a name.