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Fourth BookBeauty
Beauty
These things I then knew not, and I loved these lower beauties, and I was
sinking to the very depths, and to my friends I said, "Do we love any thing
but the beautiful? What then is the beautiful? and what is beauty? What is it
that attracts and wins us to the things we love? for unless there were in them
a grace and beauty, they could by no means draw us unto them." And I marked
and perceived that in bodies themselves, there was a beauty, from their
forming a sort of whole, and again, another from apt and mutual
correspondence, as of a part of the body with its whole, or a shoe with a
foot, and the like. And this consideration sprang up in my mind, out of my
inmost heart, and I wrote "on the fair and fit," I think, two or three books.
Thou knowest, O Lord, for it is gone from me; for I have them not, but they
are strayed from me, I know not how.
But what moved me, O Lord my God, to dedicate these books unto Hierius,
an orator of Rome, whom I knew not by face, but loved for the fame of his
learning which was eminent in him, and some words of his I had heard, which
pleased me? But more did he please me, for that he pleased others, who highly
extolled him, amazed that out of a Syrian, first instructed in Greek
eloquence, should afterwards be formed a wonderful Latin orator, and one most
learned in things pertaining unto philosophy. One is commended, and, unseen,
he is loved: doth this love enter the heart of the hearer from the mouth of
the commender? Not so. But by one who loveth is another kindled. For hence he
is loved who is commended, when the commender is believed to extol him with an
unfeigned heart; that is, when one that loves him praises him.
For so did I then love men, upon the judgment of men, not Thine, O my
God, in whom no man is deceived. But yet why not for qualities, like those of
a famous charioteer, or fighter with the beasts in the theatre, known far and
wide by a vulgar popularity, but far otherwise, and earnestly, and so as I
would be myself commended? For I would not be commended or loved, as actors
are (though I myself did commend and love them), but had rather be unknown,
than so known; and even hated, than so loved. Where now are the impulses to
such various and divers kinds of loves laid up in one soul? Why, since we are
equally men, do I love in another what, if I did not hate, I should not spurn
and cast from myself? For it holds not, that as a good horse is loved by him,
who would not, though he might, be that horse, therefore the same may be said
of an actor, who shares our nature. Do I then love in a man, what I hate to
be, who am a man? Man himself is a great deep, whose very hairs Thou
numberest, O Lord, and they fall not to the ground without Thee. ^28 And yet
are the hairs of his head easier to be numbered than are his feelings, and the
beatings of his heart.
[Footnote 28: Matt. x. 29, 30.]
But that orator was of that sort whom I loved, as wishing to be myself
such; and I erred through a swelling pride, and was tossed about with every
wind, ^29 but yet was steered by Thee, though very secretly. And whence do I
know, and whence do I confidently confess unto Thee, that I had loved him more
for the love of his commenders, than for the very things for which he was
commended? Because had he been unpraised, and these self-same men had
dispraised him, and with dispraise and contempt told the very same things of
him, I had never been so kindled and excited to love him. And yet the things
had not been other, nor he himself other; but only the feelings of the
relators. See where the impotent soul lies along, that is not yet stayed up by
the solidity of truth! Just as the gales of tongues blow from the breast of
the opinionative, so is it carried this way and that, driven forward and
backward, and the light is overclouded to it, and the truth unseen. And lo, it
is before us. And it was to me a great matter, that my discourse and labours
should be known to that man: which should he approve, I were the more kindled,
but if he disapproved, my empty heart, void of Thy solidity, had been wounded.
And yet the "fair and fit," whereon I wrote to him, I dwelt on with pleasure,
and surveyed it, and admired it, though none joined therein.
[Footnote 29: Eph. iv. 14.]
But I saw not yet, whereon this weighty matter turned in Thy wisdom, O
Thou Omnipotent, who only doest wonders; ^30 and my mind ranged through
corporeal forms; and "fair," I defined and distinguished what is so in itself,
and "fit," whose beauty is in correspondence to some other thing: and this I
supported by corporeal examples. And I turned to the nature of the mind, but
the false notion which I had of spiritual things, let me not see the truth.
Yet the force of truth did of itself flash into mine eyes, and I turned away
my panting soul from incorporeal substance to lineaments, and colours, and
bulky magnitudes. And not being able to see these in the mind, I thought I
could not see my mind. And whereas in virtue I loved peace, and in viciousness
I abhorred discord; in the first I observed a unity, but in the other, a sort
of division. And in that unity I conceived the rational soul, and the nature
of truth and of the chief good to consist; but in this division I miserably
imagined there to be some unknown substance of irrational life, and the nature
of the chief evil, which should not only be a substance, but real life also,
and yet not derived from Thee, O my God, of whom are all things. And yet that
first I called a Monad, as it had been a soul without sex; but the latter a
Duad; - anger, in deeds of violence, and in flagitiousness, lust; not knowing
whereof I spake. For I had not known or learned that neither was evil a
substance, nor our soul that chief and unchangeable good.
[Footnote 30: Ps. cvi. 4.]
For as deeds of violence arise, if that emotion of the soul be corrupted,
whence vehement action springs, stirring itself insolently and unrulily; and
lusts, when that affection of the soul is ungoverned, whereby carnal pleasures
are drunk in, so do errors and false opinions defile the conversation, if the
reasonable soul itself be corrupted; as it was then in me, who knew not that
it must be enlightened by another light, that it may be partaker of truth,
seeing itself is not that nature of truth. For Thou shalt light my candle, O
Lord my God, Thou shalt enlighten my darkness: ^31 and of Thy fulness have we
all received, for Thou art the true light that lighteth every man that cometh
into the world; ^32 for in Thee there is no variableness, neither shadow of
change. ^33
[Footnote 31: Ps. xviii. 28.]
[Footnote 32: John i. 16, 9.]
[Footnote 33: Jam. i. 17.]
But I pressed towards Thee, and was thrust from Thee, that I might taste
of death: for thou resistest the proud. ^34 But what prouder, than for me with
a strange madness to maintain myself to be that by nature which Thou art? For
whereas I was subject to change (so much being manifest to me, my very desire
to become wise, being the wish, of worse to become better), yet chose I rather
to imagine Thee subject to change, than myself not to be that which Thou art.
Therefore I was repelled by Thee, and Thou resistedst my vain stiff -
neckedness, and I imagined corporeal forms, and, myself flesh, I accused
flesh; and, a wind that passeth away, I returned not ^35 to Thee, but I passed
on and on to things which have no being, neither in Thee, nor in me, nor in
the body. Neither were they created for me by Thy truth, but by my vanity
devised out of things corporeal. And I was wont to ask Thy faithful little
ones, my fellow-citizens (from whom, unknown to myself, I stood exiled), I was
wont, prating and foolishly, to ask them, "Why then doth the soul err which
God created?" But I would not be asked, "Why then doth God err?" And I
maintained that Thy unchangeable substance did err upon constraint, rather
than confess that my changeable substance had gone astray voluntarily, and
now, in punishment, lay in error.
[Footnote 34: I Pet. v. 5; Jam. iv. 6.]
[Footnote 35: Ps. lxxviii. 39.]
I was then some six or seven and twenty years old when I wrote those
volumes; revolving within me corporeal fictions, buzzing in the ears of my
heart, which I turned, O sweet truth, to thy inward melody, meditating on the
"fair and fit," and longing to stand and hearken to Thee, and to rejoice
greatly at the Bridegroom`s voice, ^36 but could not; for by the voices of
mine own errors, I was hurried abroad, and through the weight of my own pride,
I was sinking into the lowest pit. For Thou didst not make me to hear joy and
gladness, nor did the bones exult which were not yet humbled. ^37
[Footnote 36: John iii. 29.]
[Footnote 37: Ps. li. 8.]
And what did it profit me, that scarce twenty years old, a book of
Aristotle, which they call the ten Predicaments, falling into my hands (on
whose very name I hung, as on something great and divine, so often as my
rhetoric master of Carthage, and others, accounted learned, mouthed it with
cheeks bursting with pride), I read and understood it unaided? And on my
conferring with others, who said that they scarcely understood it with very
able tutors, not only orally explaining it, but drawing many things in sand,
they could tell me no more of it than I had learned, reading it by myself. And
the book appeared to me to speak very clearly of substances, such as "man,"
and of their qualities, as the figure of a man, of what sort it is; and
stature, how many feet high; and his relationship, whose brother he is; or
where placed; or when born; or whether he stands or sits; or be shod or armed;
or does, or suffers anything; and all the innumerable things which might be
ranged under these nine Predicaments, of which I have given some specimens, or
under that chief Predicament of Substance.
What did all this further me, seeing it even hindered me? when, imagining
whatever was, was comprehended under those ten Predicaments, I essayed in such
wise to understand, O my God, Thy wonderful and unchangeable Unity also, as if
Thou also hadst been subjected to Thine own greatness or beauty; so that (as
in bodies) they should exist in Thee, as their subject: whereas Thou Thyself
art Thy greatness and beauty; but a body is not great or fair in that it is a
body, seeing that, though it were less great or fair, it should
notwithstanding be a body. But it was falsehood which of Thee I conceived, not
truth, fictions of my misery, not the realities of Thy Blessedness. For Thou
hadst commanded, and it was done in me, that the earth should bring forth
briars and thorns to me, and that in the sweat of my brows I should eat my
bread.
And what did it profit me, that all the books I could procure of the so -
called liberal arts, I, the vile slave of vile affections, read by myself, and
understood? And I delighted in them, but knew not whence came all, that herein
was true or certain. For I had my back to the light, and my face to the things
enlightened; whence my face, with which I discerned the things enlightened,
itself was not enlightened. Whatever was written, either on rhetoric, or
logic, geometry, music, and arithmetic, by myself without much difficulty or
any instructor, I understood, Thou knowest, O Lord my God; because both
quickness of understanding, and acuteness in discerning, is Thy gift: yet did
I not thence sacrifice to Thee. So then it served not to my use, but rather to
my perdition, since I went about to get so good a portion of my substance into
my own keeping; and I kept not my strength for Thee, but wandered from Thee
into a far country, to spend it upon harlotries. ^38 For what profited me good
abilities, not employed to good uses? For I felt not that those arts were
attained with great difficulty, even by the studious and talented, until I
attempted to explain them to such; when he most excelled in them who followed
me not altogether slowly.
[Footnote 38: Luke xv.; Ps. lviii. 10. - Vulg.]
But what did this further me, imagining that Thou, O Lord God, the Truth,
wert a vast and bright body, and I a fragment of that body? Perverseness too
great? But such was I. Nor do I blush, O my God, to confess to Thee Thy
mercies towards me, and to call upon Thee, who blushed not then to profess to
men my blasphemies, and to bark against Thee. What profited me then my nimble
wit in those sciences and all those most knotty volumes, unravelled by me,
without aid from human instruction; seeing I erred so foully, and with such
sacrilegious shamefulness, in the doctrine of piety? Or what hindrance was a
far slower wit to Thy little ones, since they departed not far from Thee, that
in the nest of Thy Church they might securely be fledged, and nourish the
wings of charity, by the food of a sound faith. O Lord our God, under the
shadow of Thy wings let us hope; protect us, and carry us. Thou wilt carry us
both when little, and even to hoar hairs wilt Thou carry us; ^39 for our
firmness, when it is Thou, then is it firmness; but when our own, it is
infirmity. Our good ever lives with Thee; from which when we turn away, we are
turned aside. Let us now, O Lord, return, that we may not be overturned,
because with Thee our good lives without any decay, which good art Thou; nor
need we fear, lest there be no place whither to return, because we fell from
it: for through our absence, our mansion fell not - Thy eternity.
[Footnote 39: Is. xlvi. 4.]
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