The career leads him to Rome and Milan, all the way to the top: court orator to the emperor. In Milan he hears Bishop Ambrose preach — at first only to study the rhetoric. But the matter will not let him go.
In 386, in a garden in Milan, he weeps under a fig tree when from the neighboring house a child's voice sings: tolle, lege — "take and read" (Confessiones VIII,12). He opens the Letter to the Romans, and the old life ends. At Easter 387 he is baptized; on the journey home his mother dies in Ostia, shortly after a conversation he describes as praying their way into God together.
Back in Africa he wants to live quietly — the congregation of Hippo presses him into the priesthood and soon into the office of bishop. For thirty-five years he preaches, writes, and argues; when he dies in 430, the Vandals are besieging his city.
His Confessiones (around 397) are the West's first great autobiography — and written throughout as a prayer. The very opening contains the sentence for which he is still quoted 1600 years later: "You have made us for yourself — and restless is our heart until it rests in you" (Confessiones I,1). Hardly anyone has shaped Europe's thought more deeply. And hardly anyone was more honest about his own abysses.