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Fourth BookLife from Age Nineteen
Life from Age Nineteen
Augustine`s life from nineteen to eight-and-twenty; himself a Manichaean,
and seducing others to the same heresy; partial obedience amidst vanity and
sin, consulting astrologers, only partially shaken herein; loss of an early
friend, who is converted by being baptised when in a swoon; reflections on
grief, on real and unreal friendship, and love of fame; writes on "the fair
and fit," yet cannot rightly, though God had given him great talents, since he
entertained wrong notions of God; and so even his knowledge he applied ill.
For this space of nine years then (from my nineteenth year to my
eight-and-twentieth) we lived seduced and seducing, deceived and deceiving, in
divers lusts; openly, by sciences which they call liberal; secretly, with a
false-named religion; here proud, there superstitious, every where vain! Here,
hunting after the emptiness of popular praise, down even to theatrical
applauses, and poetic prizes, and strifes for grassy garlands, and the follies
of shows, and the intemperance of desires. There, desiring to be cleansed from
these defilements, by carrying food to those who were called "elect" and
"holy," out of which, in the workhouse of their stomachs, they should forge
for us Angels and Gods, by whom we might be cleansed. These things did I
follow, and practise with my friends, deceived by me, and with me. Let the
arrogant mock me, and such as have not been, to their soul`s health, stricken
and cast down by Thee, O my God; but I would still confess to Thee mine own
shame in Thy praise. Suffer me, I beseech Thee, and give me grace to go over
in my present remembrance the wanderings of my forepassed time, and to offer
unto Thee the sacrifice of thanks giving. ^1 For what am I to myself without
Thee, but a guide to mine own downfall? or what am I even at the best, but an
infant sucking the milk Thou givest, and feeding upon Thee, the food that
perisheth not? ^2 But what sort of man is any man, seeing he is but a man? Let
now the strong and the mighty laugh at us, but let us poor and needy ^3
confess unto Thee.
[Footnote 1: Ps. xlix. 14.]
[Footnote 2: John vi. 27.]
[Footnote 3: Ps. lxxiii. 21.]
In those years I taught rhetoric, and, overcome by cupidity, made sale of
a loquacity to overcome by. Yet I preferred (Lord, Thou knowest) honest
scholars (as they are accounted), and these I, without artifice, taught
artifices, not to be practised against the life of the guiltless, though
sometimes for the life of the guilty. And Thou, O God, from afar perceivedst
me stumbling in that slippery course, and amid much smoke sending out some
sparks of faithfulness, which I showed in that my guidance of such as loved
vanity, and sought after leasing, ^4 myself their companion. In those years I
had one, - not in that which is called lawful marriage, but whom I had found
out in a wayward passion, void of understanding; yet but one, remaining
faithful even to her; in whom I in my own case experienced what difference
there is betwixt the self-restraint of the marriage-covenant, for the sake of
issue, and the bargain of a lustful love, where children are born against
their parents` will, although, once born, they constrain love.
[Footnote 4: Is. xlii, 5; Matt. xii. 20; Ps. iv. 2.]
I remember also, that when I had settled to enter the lists for a
theatrical prize, some wizard asked me what I would give him to win; but I,
detesting and abhorring such foul mysteries, answered, "Though the garland
were of imperishable gold, I would not suffer a fly to be killed to gain me
it." For he was to kill some living creatures in his sacrifices, and by those
honours to invite the devils to favour me. But this ill also I rejected, not
out of a pure love for Thee, O God of my heart; for I knew not how to love
Thee, who knew not how to conceive aught beyond a material brightness. And
doth not a soul, sighing after such fictions, commit fornication against Thee,
trust in things unreal, and feed the wind? ^5 Still I would not forsooth have
sacrifices offered to devils for me, to whom I was sacrificing myself by that
superstition. For what else is it to feed the wind, but to feed them, that is,
by going astray to become their pleasure and derision?
[Footnote 5: Hos. xii. 1.]
Those impostors then, whom they style Mathematicians, I consulted without
scruple; because they seemed to use no sacrifice, nor to pray to any spirit
for their divinations: which art, however, Christian and true piety
consistently rejects and condemns. For, it is a good thing to confess unto
Thee, and to say, Have mercy upon me, heal my soul, for I have sinned against
Thee, ^6 and not to abuse Thy mercy for a license to sin, but to remember the
Lord`s words, Behold, thou art made whole, sin no more, lest a worse thing
come unto thee ^7. All which wholesome advice they labour to destroy, saying,
"The cause of thy sin is inevitably determined in heaven;" and "This did
Venus, or Saturn, or Mars:" that man, forsooth, flesh and blood, and proud
corruption, might be blameless; while the Creator and Ordainer of heaven and
the stars is to bear the blame. And who is He but our God? the very sweetness
and well-spring of righteousness, who renderest to every man according to his
works: and a broken and contrite heart wilt Thou not despise. ^8
[Footnote 6: Ps. xli. 4.]
[Footnote 7: John v. 14.]
[Footnote 8: Rom. ii. 6; Matt. xvi. 27; Ps. li. 17.]
There was in those days a wise man, very skilful in physic, and renowned
therein, who had with his own proconsular hand put the Agonistic garland upon
my distempered head, but not as a physician: for this disease Thou only
curest, who resistest the proud, and givest grace to the humble. ^9 But didst
Thou fail me even by that old man, or forbear to heal my soul? For having
become more acquainted with him, and hanging assiduously and fixedly on his
speech (for though in simple terms, it was vivid, lively, and earnest), when
he had gathered by my discourse that I was given to the books of nativity -
casters, he kindly and fatherly advised me to cast them away, and not
fruitlessly bestow a care and diligence, necessary for useful things, upon
these vanities; saying, that he had in his earliest years studied that art, so
as to make it the profession whereby he should live, and that, understanding
Hippocrates, he could soon have understood such a study as this; and yet he
had given it over, and taken to physic, for no other reason but that he found
it utterly false; and he, a grave man, would not get his living by deluding
people. "But thou," saith he, "hast rhetoric to maintain thyself by, so that
thou followest this of free choice, not of necessity: the more then oughtest
thou to give me credit herein, who laboured to acquire it so perfectly as to
get my living by it alone." Of whom when I had demanded, how then could many
true things be foretold by it, he answered me (as he could) "that the force of
chance, diffused throughout the whole order of things, brought this about. For
if when a man by haphazard opens the pages of some poet, who sang and thought
of something wholly different, a verse oftentimes fell out, wondrously
agreeable to the present business: it were not to be wondered at, if out of
the soul of man, unconscious what takes place in it, by some higher instinct
an answer should be given, by hap, not by art, corresponding to the business
and actions of the demander."
[Footnote 9: 1 Pet. v. 5; Jam. iv. 6.]
And thus much, either from or through him, Thou conveyedst to me, and
tracedst in my memory, what I might hereafter examine for myself. But at that
time neither he, nor my dearest Nebridius, a youth singularly good and of a
holy fear, who derided the whole body of divination, could persuade me to cast
it aside, the authority of the authors swaying me yet more, and as yet I had
found no certain proof (such as I sought) whereby it might without all doubt
appear, that what had been truly foretold by those consulted was the result of
haphazard, not of the art of the star-gazers.
In those years when I first began to teach rhetoric in my native town, I
had made one my friend, but too dear to me, from a community of pursuits, of
mine own age, and, as myself, in the first opening flower of youth. He had
grown up a child with me, and we had been both school-fellows and play -
fellows. But he was not yet my friend as afterwards, nor even then, as true
friendship is; for true it cannot be, unless in such as Thou cementest
together, cleaving unto Thee, by that love which is shed abroad in our hearts
by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto us. ^10 Yet was it but too sweet,
ripened by the warmth of kindred studies: for, from the true faith (which he
as a youth had not soundly and thoroughly imbibed), I had warped him also to
those superstitious and pernicious fables, for which my mother bewailed me.
With me he now erred in mind, nor could my soul be without him. But behold
Thou wert close on the steps of Thy fugitives, at once God of vengeance, ^11
and Fountain of mercies, turning us to Thyself by wonderful means; Thou
tookest that man out of this life, when he had scarce filled up one whole year
of my friendship, sweet to me above all sweetness of that my life.
[Footnote 10: Rom. v. 5.]
[Footnote 11: Ps. xciv. 1.]
Who can recount all Thy praises, ^12 which he hath felt in his one self?
What diddest Thou then, my God, and how unsearchable is the abyss of Thy
judgments? ^13 For long, sore sick of a fever, he lay senseless in a death -
sweat; and his recovery being despaired of, he was baptised, unknowing; myself
meanwhile little regarding, and presuming that his soul would retain rather
what it had received of me, not what was wrought on his unconscious body. But
it proved far otherwise; for he was refreshed, and restored. Forthwith, as
soon as I could speak with him (and I could, so soon as he was able, for I
never left him, and we hung but too much upon each other), I essayed to jest
with him, as though he would jest with me at that baptism which he had
received, when utterly absent in mind and feeling, but had now understood that
he had received. But he so shrunk from me, as from an enemy; and with a
wonderful and sudden freedom bade me, as I would continue his friend, forbear
such language to him. I, all astonished and amazed, suppressed all my emotions
till he should grow well, and his health were strong enough for me to deal
with him as I would. But he was taken away from my frenzy, that with Thee he
might be preserved for my comfort; a few days after, in my absence, he was
attacked again by the fever, and so departed.
[Footnote 12: Ps. cvi. 2.]
[Footnote 13: Ps. xxxvi. 2.]
At this grief my heart was utterly darkened; and whatever I beheld was
death. My native country was a torment to me, and my father`s house a strange
unhappiness; and whatever I had shared with him, wanting him, became a
distracting torture. Mine eyes sought him every where, but he was not granted
them; and I hated all places, for that they had not him; nor could they now
tell me, "he is coming," as when he was alive and absent. I became a great
riddle to myself, and I asked my soul, why she was so sad, and why she
disquieted me sorely: ^14 but she knew not what to answer me. And if I said,
Trust in God, she very rightly obeyed me not; because that most dear friend,
whom she had lost, was, being man, both truer and better than that phantasm
she was bid to trust in. Only tears were sweet to me, for they succeeded my
friend, in the dearest of my affections.
[Footnote 14: Ps. xlii. 5.]
And now, Lord, these things are passed by, and time hath assuaged my
wound. May I learn from Thee, who art Truth, and approach the ear of my heart
unto Thy mouth, that Thou mayest tell me why weeping is sweet to the
miserable? Hast Thou, although present every where, cast away our misery far
from Thee? And Thou abidest in Thyself, but we are tossed about in divers
trials. And yet unless we mourned in Thine ears, we should have no hope left.
Whence then is sweet fruit gathered from the bitterness of life, from
groaning, tears, sighs, and complaints? Doth this sweeten it, that we hope
Thou hearest? This is true of prayer, for therein is a longing to approach
unto Thee. But is it also in grief for a thing lost, and the sorrow wherewith
I was then overwhelmed. For I neither hoped he should return to life nor did I
desire this with my tears; but I wept only and grieved. For I was miserable,
and had lost my joy. Or is weeping indeed a bitter thing, and for very
loathing of the things which we before enjoyed, does it then, when we shrink
from them, please us?
But what speak I of these things? for now is no time to question, but to
confess unto Thee. Wretched I was; and wretched is every soul bound by the
friendship of perishable things; he is torn asunder when he loses them, and
then he feels the wretchedness which he had ere yet he lost them. So was it
then with me; I wept most bitterly, and found my repose in bitterness. Thus
was I wretched, and that wretched life I held dearer than my friend. For
though I would willingly have changed it, yet was I more unwilling to part
with it than with him; yea, I know not whether I would have parted with it
even for him, as is related (if not feigned) of Pylades and Orestes, that they
would gladly have died for each other or together, not to live together being
to them worse than death. But in me there had arisen some unexplained feeling,
too contrary to this, for at once I loathed exceedingly to live and feared to
die. I suppose, the more I loved him, the more did I hate, and fear (as a most
cruel enemy) death, which had bereaved me of him: and I imagined it would
speedily make an end of all men, since it had power over him. Thus was it with
me, I remember. Behold my heart, O my God, behold and see into me; for well I
remember it, O my Hope, who cleansest me from the impurity of such affections,
directing mine eyes towards Thee, and plucking my feet out of the snare. ^15
For I wondered that others, subject to death did live, since he whom I loved,
as if he should never die, was dead; and I wondered yet more that myself, who
was to him a second self, could live, he being dead. Well said one of his
friend, "Thou half of my soul;" for I felt that my soul and his soul were "one
soul in two bodies:" and therefore was my life a horror to me, because I would
not live halved. And therefore perchance I feared to die, lest he whom I had
much loved should die wholly.
[Footnote 15: Ps. xxv. 14.]
O madness, which knowest not how to love men, like men! O foolish man
that I then was, enduring impatiently the lot of man! I fretted then, sighed,
wept, was distracted; had neither rest nor counsel. For I bore about a
shattered and bleeding soul, impatient of being borne by me, yet where to
repose it, I found not. Not in calm groves, not in games and music, nor in
fragrant spots, nor in curious banquetings, nor in the pleasures of the bed
and the couch; nor (finally) in books or poesy, found it repose. All things
looked ghastly, yea, the very light; whatsoever was not what he was, was
revolting and hateful, except groaning and tears. For in those alone found I a
little refreshment. But when my soul was withdrawn from them a huge load of
misery weighed me down. To Thee, O Lord, it ought to have been raised, for
Thee to lighten; I knew it; but neither could nor would; the more, since, when
I thought of Thee, Thou wert not to me any solid or substantial thing. For
Thou wert not Thyself, but a mere phantom, and my error was my God. If I
offered to discharge my load thereon, that it might rest, it glided through
the void, and came rushing down again on me; and I had remained to myself a
hapless spot, where I could neither be, nor be from thence. For whither should
my heart flee from my heart? Whither should I flee from myself? Whither not
follow myself? And yet I fled out of my country; for so should mine eyes less
look for him, where they were not wont to see him. And thus from Thagaste, I
came to Carthage.
Times lose no time; nor do they roll idly by; through our senses they
work strange operations on the mind. Behold, they went and came day by day,
and by coming and going, introduced into my mind other imaginations and other
remembrances; and little by little patched me up again with my old kind of
delights, unto which that my sorrow gave way. And yet there succeeded, not
indeed other griefs, yet the causes of other griefs. For whence had that
former grief so easily reached my very inmost soul, but that I had poured out
my soul upon the dust, in loving one that must die, as if he would never die?
For what restored and refreshed me chiefly was the solaces of other friends,
with whom I did love, what instead of Thee I loved; and this was a great
fable, and protracted lie, by whose adulterous stimulus, our soul, which lay
itching in our ears, was being defiled. But that fable would not die to me, so
oft as any of my friends died. There were other things which in them did more
take my mind; to talk and jest together, to do kind offices by turns; to read
together honied books; to play the fool or be earnest together; to dissent at
times without discontent, as a man might with his own self; and even with the
seldomness of these dissentings, to season our more frequent consentings;
sometimes to teach, and sometimes learn; long for the absent with impatience;
and welcome the coming with joy. These and the like expressions, proceeding
out of the hearts of those that loved and were loved again, by the
countenance, the tongue, the eyes, and a thousand pleasing gestures, were so
much fuel to melt our souls together, and out of many make but one.
This is it that is loved in friends; and so loved, that a man`s
conscience condemns itself, if he love not him that loves him again, or love
not again him that loves him, looking for nothing from his person but
indications of his love. Hence that mourning, if one die, and darkenings of
sorrows, that steeping of the heart in tears, all sweetness turned to
bitterness; and upon the loss of life of the dying, the death of the living.
Blessed whoso loveth Thee, and his friend in Thee, and his enemy for Thee. For
he alone loses none dear to him, to whom all are dear in Him who cannot be
lost. And who is this but our God, the God that made heaven and earth, and
filleth them, ^16 because by filling them He created them? Thee none loseth,
but who leaveth. And who leaveth Thee, whither goeth or whither fleeth he, but
from Thee well-pleased, to Thee displeased? For where doth he not find Thy law
in his own punishment? And Thy law is truth, ^17 and truth Thou.
[Footnote 16: Gen. ii. 24; Jer. xxiii. 24.]
[Footnote 17: Ps. cxix. 142; John xiv. 6.]
Turn us, O God of Hosts, show us Thy countenance, and we shall be whole.
^18 For whithersoever the soul of man turns itself, unless towards Thee, it is
riveted upon sorrows, yea though it is riveted on things beautiful. And yet
they, out of Thee, and out of the soul, were not, unless they were from Thee.
They rise, and set; and by rising, they begin as it were to be; they grow,
that they may be perfected; and perfected, they wax old and wither; and all
grow not old, but all wither. So then when they rise and tend to be, the more
quickly they grow that they may be, so much the more they haste not to be.
This is the law of them. Thus much hast Thou allotted them, because they are
portions of things, which exist not all at once, but by passing away and
succeeding, they together complete that universe, whereof they are portions.
And even thus is our speech completed by signs giving forth a sound: but this
again is not perfected unless one word pass away when it hath sounded its
part, that another may succeed. Out of all these things let my soul praise
Thee, O God, Creator of all; yet let not my soul be riveted unto these things
with the glue of love, through the senses of the body. For they go whither
they were to go, that they might not be; and they rend her with pestilent
longings, because she longs to be, yet loves to repose in what she loves. But
in these things is no place of repose; they abide not, they flee; and who can
follow them with the senses of the flesh? yea, who can grasp them, when they
are hard by? For the sense of the flesh is slow, because it is the sense of
the flesh; and thereby is it bounded. It sufficeth; for that it was made for;
but it sufficeth not to stay things running their course from their appointed
starting-place to the end appointed. For in Thy Word, by which they are
created, they hear their decree, "hence and hitherto."
[Footnote 18: Ps. lxxx. 19.]
Be not foolish, O my soul, nor become deaf in the ear of thine heart with
the tumult of thy folly. Hearken thou too. The Word itself calleth thee to
return: and there is the place of rest imperturbable, where love is not
forsaken, if itself forsaketh not. Behold, these things pass away, that others
may replace them, and so this lower universe be completed by all his parts.
But do I depart any whither? saith the Word of God. There fix thy dwelling,
trust there whatsoever thou hast thence, O my soul, at least now thou art
tired out with vanities. Entrust Truth, whatsoever thou hast from the Truth,
and thou shalt lose nothing; and thy decay shall bloom again, and all thy
diseases be healed, ^19 and thy mortal parts be reformed and renewed, and
bound around thee: nor shall they lay thee whither themselves descend; but
they shall stand fast with thee, and abide for ever before God, who abideth
and standeth fast for ever. ^20
[Footnote 19: Ps. ciii. 3.]
[Footnote 20: I Pet. i. 23.]
Why then be perverted and follow thy flesh? Be it converted and follow
thee. Whatever by her thou hast sense of, is in part; and the whole, whereof
these are parts, thou knowest not, and yet they delight thee. But had the
sense of thy flesh a capacity for comprehending the whole, and not itself
also, for thy punishment, been justly restricted to a part of the whole, thou
wouldest, that whatsoever existeth at this present, should pass away, that so
the whole might better please thee. For what we speak also, by the same sense
of the flesh thou hearest; yet wouldest not thou have the syllables stay, but
fly away, that others may come, and thou hear the whole. And so ever, when any
one thing is made up of many, all of which do not exist together, all
collectively would please more than they do severally, could all be perceived
collectively. But far better than these is He who made all; and He is our God,
nor doth He pass away, for neither doth aught succeed Him.
If bodies please thee, praise God on occasion of them, and turn back thy
love upon their Maker; lest in these things which please thee, thou displease.
If souls please thee, be they loved in God: for they too are mutable, but in
Him are they firmly established; else would they pass, and pass away. In Him
then be they beloved; and carry unto Him along with thee what souls thou
canst, and say to them, "Him let us love, Him let us love: He made these, nor
is He far off. For He did not make them, and so depart, but they are of Him,
and in Him. See there He is, where truth is loved. He is within the very
heart, yet hath the heart strayed from Him. Go back into your heart, ye
transgressors, and cleave fast to Him that made you. Stand with Him, and ye
shall stand fast. Rest in Him, and ye shall be at rest. Whither go ye in rough
ways? Whither go ye? The good that you love is from Him; but it is good and
pleasant through reference to Him, and justly shall it be embittered, because
unjustly is anything loved which is from Him, if He be forsaken for it. To
what and then would ye still and still walk these difficult and toilsome ways?
There is no rest, where ye seek it. Seek what ye seek; but it is not there
where ye seek. Ye seek a blessed life in the land of death; it is not there.
For how should there be a blessed life where life itself is not?"
"But our true Life came down hither, and bore our death, and slew him,
out of the abundance of His own life: and He thundered, calling aloud to us to
return hence to Him into that secret place, whence He came forth to us, first
into the virgin`s womb, wherein he espoused the human creation, our mortal
flesh, that it might not be for ever mortal, and thence like a bridegroom
coming out of his chamber, rejoicing as a giant to run his course. ^21 For He
lingered not, but ran, calling aloud by words, deeds, death, life, descent,
ascension; crying aloud to us to return unto Him. And He departed from our
eyes, that we might return into our heart, and there find Him. For He
departed, and lo, He is here. He would not be long with us, yet left us not;
for He departed thither, whence He never parted, because the world was made by
Him. ^22 And in this world He was, and into this world He came to save
sinners, ^23 unto whom my soul confesseth, and He healeth it, for it hath
sinned against Him. ^24 O ye sons of men, how long so slow of heart? ^25 Even
now, after the descent of Life to you, will ye not ascend and live? But
whither ascend ye, when ye are on high, and set your mouth against the
heavens? ^26 Descend, that ye may ascend, and ascend to God. For ye have
fallen, by ascending against Him." Tell them, this that they may weep in the
valley of tears, ^27 and so carry them up with thee unto God; because out of
His Spirit thou speakest thus unto them, if thou speakest, burning with the
fire of charity.
[Footnote 21: Ps. xix. 5.]
[Footnote 22: John i. 10.]
[Footnote 23: I Tim. i. 15.]
[Footnote 24: Ps. xli. 4.]
[Footnote 25: Ps. iv. 3. - Vulg.]
[Footnote 26: Ps. lxxiii. 9.]
[Footnote 27: Ps. lxxxiv. 6.]
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