Belijdenissen - Augustinus (boek III)
The Confessions of Saint Augustine - Book III
Chapter I
To Carthage I came, where there sang all around me in my ears a cauldron of
unholy loves. I loved not yet, yet I loved to love, and out of a deep-seated
want, I hated myself for wanting not. I sought what I might love, in love
with loving, and safety I hated, and a way without snares. For within me was
a famine of that inward food, Thyself, my God; yet, through that famine I
was not hungered; but was without all longing for incorruptible sustenance,
not because filled therewith, but the more empty, the more I loathed it. For
this cause my soul was sickly and full of sores, it miserably cast itself
forth, desiring to be scraped by the touch of objects of sense. Yet if these
had not a soul, they would not be objects of love. To love then, and to be
beloved, was sweet to me; but more, when I obtained to enjoy the person I
loved, I defiled, therefore, the spring of friendship with the filth of
concupiscence, and I beclouded its brightness with the hell of lustfulness;
and thus foul and unseemly, I would fain, through exceeding vanity, be fine
and courtly. I fell headlong then into the love wherein I longed to be
ensnared. My God, my Mercy, with how much gall didst Thou out of Thy great
goodness besprinkle for me that sweetness? For I was both beloved, and
secretly arrived at the bond of enjoying; and was with joy fettered with
sorrow-bringing bonds, that I might be scourged with the iron burning rods
of jealousy, and suspicions, and fears, and angers, and quarrels.
Chapter II
Stage-plays also carried me away, full of images of my miseries, and of fuel
to my fire. Why is it, that man desires to be made sad, beholding doleful
and tragical things, which yet himself would no means suffer? yet he desires
as a spectator to feel sorrow at them, this very sorrow is his pleasure.
What is this but a miserable madness? for a man is the more affected with
these actions, the less free he is from such affections. Howsoever, when he
suffers in his own person, it uses to be styled misery: when he
compassionates others, then it is mercy. But what sort of compassion is this
for feigned and scenical passions? for the auditor is not called on to
relieve, but only to grieve: and he applauds the actor of these fictions the
more, the more he grieves. And if the calamities of those persons (whether
of old times, or mere fiction) be so acted, that the spectator is not moved
to tears, he goes away disgusted and criticising; but if he be moved to
passion, he stays intent, and weeps for joy.
Are griefs then too loved? Verily all desire joy. Or whereas no man likes to
be miserable, is he yet pleased to be merciful? which because it cannot be
without passion, for this reason alone are passions loved? This also springs
from that vein of friendship. But whither goes that vein? whither flows it?
wherefore runs it into that torrent of pitch bubbling forth those monstrous
tides of foul lustfulness, into which it is wilfully changed and
transformed, being of its own will precipitated and corrupted from its
heavenly clearness? Shall compassion then be put away? by no means. Be
griefs then sometimes loved. But beware of uncleanness, O my soul, under the
guardianship of my God, the God of our fathers, who is to be praised and
exalted above all for ever, beware of uncleanness. For I have not now ceased
to pity; but then in the theatres I rejoiced with lovers when they wickedly
enjoyed one another, although this was imaginary only in the play. And when
they lost one another, as if very compassionate, I sorrowed with them, yet
had my delight in both. But now I much more pity him that rejoiceth in his
wickedness, than him who is thought to suffer hardship, by missing some
pernicious pleasure, and the loss of some miserable felicity. This certainly
is the truer mercy, but in it grief delights not. For though he that grieves
for the miserable, be commended for his office of charity; yet had he, who
is genuinely compassionate, rather there were nothing for him to grieve for.
For if good will be ill willed (which can never be), then may he, who truly
and sincerely commiserates, wish there might be some miserable, that he
might commiserate. Some sorrow may then be allowed, none loved. For thus
dost Thou, O Lord God, who lovest souls far more purely than we, and hast
more incorruptibly pity on them, yet are wounded with no sorrowfulness. And
who is sufficient for these things?
But I, miserable, then loved to grieve, and sought out what to grieve at,
when in another's and that feigned and personated misery, that acting best
pleased me, and attracted me the most vehemently, which drew tears from me.
What marvel that an unhappy sheep, straying from Thy flock, and impatient of
Thy keeping, I became infected with a foul disease? And hence the love of
griefs; not such as should sink deep into me; for I loved not to suffer,
what I loved to look on; but such as upon hearing their fictions should
lightly scratch the surface; upon which, as on envenomed nails, followed
inflamed swelling, impostumes, and a putrefied sore. My life being such, was
it life, O my God?
Chapter III
And Thy faithful mercy hovered over me afar. Upon how grievous iniquities
consumed I myself, pursuing a sacrilegious curiosity, that having forsaken
Thee, it might bring me to the treacherous abyss, and the beguiling service
of devils, to whom I sacrificed my evil actions, and in all these things
Thou didst scourge me! I dared even, while Thy solemnities were celebrated
within the walls of Thy Church, to desire, and to compass a business
deserving death for its fruits, for which Thou scourgedst me with grievous
punishments, though nothing to my fault, O Thou my exceeding mercy, my God,
my refuge from those terrible destroyers, among whom I wandered with a stiff
neck, withdrawing further from Thee, loving mine own ways, and not Thine;
loving a vagrant liberty.
Those studies also, which were accounted commendable, had a view to
excelling in the courts of litigation; the more bepraised, the craftier.
Such is men's blindness, glorying even in their blindness. And now I was
chief in the rhetoric school, whereat I joyed proudly, and I swelled with
arrogancy, though (Lord, Thou knowest) far quieter and altogether removed
from the subvertings of those “Subverters” (for this ill-omened and devilish
name was the very badge of gallantry) among whom I lived, with a shameless
shame that I was not even as they. With them I lived, and was sometimes
delighted with their friendship, whose doings I ever did abhor—i.e., their
“subvertings,” wherewith they wantonly persecuted the modesty of strangers,
which they disturbed by a gratuitous jeering, feeding thereon their
malicious birth. Nothing can be liker the very actions of devils than these.
What then could they be more truly called than “Subverters”? themselves
subverted and altogether perverted first, the deceiving spirits secretly
deriding and seducing them, wherein themselves delight to jeer at and
deceive others.
Chapter IV
Among such as these, in that unsettled age of mine, learned I books of
eloquence, wherein I desired to be eminent, out of a damnable and
vainglorious end, a joy in human vanity. In the ordinary course of study, I
fell upon a certain book of Cicero, whose speech almost all admire, not so
his heart. This book of his contains an exhortation to philosophy, and is
called “Hortensius.” But this book altered my affections, and turned my
prayers to Thyself O Lord; and made me have other purposes and desires.
Every vain hope at once became worthless to me; and I longed with an
incredibly burning desire for an immortality of wisdom, and began now to
arise, that I might return to Thee. For not to sharpen my tongue (which
thing I seemed to be purchasing with my mother's allowances, in that my
nineteenth year, my father being dead two years before), not to sharpen my
tongue did I employ that book; nor did it infuse into me its style, but its
matter.
How did I burn then, my God, how did I burn to re-mount from earthly things
to Thee, nor knew I what Thou wouldest do with me? For with Thee is wisdom.
But the love of wisdom is in Greek called “philosophy,” with which that book
inflamed me. Some there be that seduce through philosophy, under a great,
and smooth, and honourable name colouring and disguising their own errors:
and almost all who in that and former ages were such, are in that book
censured and set forth: there also is made plain that wholesome advice of
Thy Spirit, by Thy good and devout servant: Beware lest any man spoil you
through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the
rudiments of the world, and not after Christ. For in Him dwelleth all the
fulness of the Godhead bodily. And since at that time (Thou, O light of my
heart, knowest) Apostolic Scripture was not known to me, I was delighted
with that exhortation, so far only, that I was thereby strongly roused, and
kindled, and inflamed to love, and seek, and obtain, and hold, and embrace
not this or that sect, but wisdom itself whatever it were; and this alone
checked me thus unkindled, that the name of Christ was not in it. For this
name, according to Thy mercy, O Lord, this name of my Saviour Thy Son, had
my tender heart, even with my mother's milk, devoutly drunk in and deeply
treasured; and whatsoever was without that name, though never so learned,
polished, or true, took not entire hold of me.
Chapter V
I resolved then to bend my mind to the holy Scriptures, that I might see
what they were. But behold, I see a thing not understood by the proud, nor
laid open to children, lowly in access, in its recesses lofty, and veiled
with mysteries; and I was not such as could enter into it, or stoop my neck
to follow its steps. For not as I now speak, did I feel when I turned to
those Scriptures; but they seemed to me unworthy to he compared to the
stateliness of Tully: for my swelling pride shrunk from their lowliness, nor
could my sharp wit pierce the interior thereof. Yet were they such as would
grow up in a little one. But I disdained to be a little one; and, swollen
with pride, took myself to be a great one.
Chapter VI
Therefore I fell among men proudly doting, exceeding carnal and prating, in
whose mouths were the snares of the Devil, limed with the mixture of the
syllables of Thy name, and of our Lord Jesus Christ, and of the Holy Ghost,
the Paraclete, our Comforter. These names departed not out of their mouth,
but so far forth as the sound only and the noise of the tongue, for the
heart was void of truth. Yet they cried out “Truth, Truth,” and spake much
thereof to me, yet it was not in them: but they spake falsehood, not of Thee
only (who truly art Truth), but even of those elements of this world, Thy
creatures. And I indeed ought to have passed by even philosophers who spake
truth concerning them, for love of Thee, my Father, supremely good, Beauty
of all things beautiful. O Truth, Truth, how inwardly did even then the
marrow of my soul pant after Thee, when they often and diversely, and in
many and huge books, echoed of Thee to me, though it was but an echo? And
these were the dishes wherein to me, hungering after Thee, they, instead of
Thee, served up the Sun and Moon, beautiful works of Thine, but yet Thy
works, not Thyself, no nor Thy first works. For Thy spiritual works are
before these corporeal works, celestial though they be, and shining. But I
hungered and thirsted not even after those first works of Thine, but after
Thee Thyself, the Truth, in whom is no variableness, neither shadow of
turning: yet they still set before me in those dishes, glittering fantasies,
than which better were it to love this very sun (which is real to our sight
at least), than those fantasies which by our eyes deceive our mind. Yet
because I thought them to be Thee, I fed thereon; not eagerly, for Thou
didst not in them taste to me as Thou art; for Thou wast not these
emptinesses, nor was I nourished by them, but exhausted rather. Food in
sleep shows very like our food awake; yet are not those asleep nourished by
it, for they are asleep. But those were not even any way like to Thee, as
Thou hast now spoken to me; for those were corporeal fantasies, false
bodies, than which these true bodies, celestial or terrestrial, which with
our fleshly sight we behold, are far more certain: these things the beasts
and birds discern as well as we, and they are more certain than when we
fancy them. And again, we do with more certainty fancy them, than by them
conjecture other vaster and infinite bodies which have no being. Such empty
husks was I then fed on; and was not fed. But Thou, my soul's Love, in
looking for whom I fail, that I may become strong, art neither those bodies
which we see, though in heaven; nor those which we see not there; for Thou
hast created them, nor dost Thou account them among the chiefest of Thy
works. How far then art Thou from those fantasies of mine, fantasies of
bodies which altogether are not, than which the images of those bodies,
which are, are far more certain, and more certain still the bodies
themselves, which yet Thou art not; no, nor yet the soul, which is the life
of the bodies. So then, better and more certain is the life of the bodies
than the bodies. But Thou art the life of souls, the life of lives, having
life in Thyself; and changest not, life of my soul.
Where then wert Thou then to me, and how far from me? Far verily was I
straying from Thee, barred from the very husks of the swine, whom with husks
I fed. For how much better are the fables of poets and grammarians than
these snares? For verses, and poems, and “Medea flying,” are more profitable
truly than these men's five elements, variously disguised, answering to five
dens of darkness, which have no being, yet slay the believer. For verses and
poems I can turn to true food, and “Medea flying,” though I did sing, I
maintained not; though I heard it sung, I believed not: but those things I
did believe. Woe, woe, by what steps was I brought down to the depths of
hell! toiling and turmoiling through want of Truth, since I sought after
Thee, my God (to Thee I confess it, who hadst mercy on me, not as yet
confessing), not according to the understanding of the mind, wherein Thou
willedst that I should excel the beasts, but according to the sense of the
flesh. But Thou wert more inward to me than my most inward part; and higher
than my highest. I lighted upon that bold woman, simple and knoweth nothing,
shadowed out in Solomon, sitting at the door, and saying, Eat ye bread of
secrecies willingly, and drink ye stolen waters which are sweet: she seduced
me, because she found my soul dwelling abroad in the eye of my flesh, and
ruminating on such food as through it I had devoured.
Chapter VII
For other than this, that which really is I knew not; and was, as it were
through sharpness of wit, persuaded to assent to foolish deceivers, when
they asked me, “whence is evil?” “is God bounded by a bodily shape, and has
hairs and nails?” “are they to be esteemed righteous who had many wives at
once, and did kill men, and sacrifice living creatures?” At which I, in my
ignorance, was much troubled, and departing from the truth, seemed to myself
to be making towards it; because as yet I knew not that evil was nothing but
a privation of good, until at last a thing ceases altogether to be; which
how should I see, the sight of whose eyes reached only to bodies, and of my
mind to a phantasm? And I knew not God to be a Spirit, not one who hath
parts extended in length and breadth, or whose being was bulk; for every
bulk is less in a part than in the whole: and if it be infinite, it must be
less in such part as is defined by a certain space, than in its infinitude;
and so is not wholly every where, as Spirit, as God. And what that should be
in us, by which we were like to God, and might be rightly said to be after
the image of God, I was altogether ignorant.
Nor knew I that true inward righteousness which judgeth not according to
custom, but out of the most rightful law of God Almighty, whereby the ways
of places and times were disposed according to those times and places;
itself meantime being the same always and every where, not one thing in one
place, and another in another; according to which Abraham, and Isaac, and
Jacob, and Moses, and David, were righteous, and all those commended by the
mouth of God; but were judged unrighteous by silly men, judging out of man's
judgment, and measuring by their own petty habits, the moral habits of the
whole human race. As if in an armory, one ignorant of what were adapted to
each part should cover his head with greaves, or seek to be shod with a
helmet, and complain that they fitted not: or as if on a day when business
is publicly stopped in the afternoon, one were angered at not being allowed
to keep open shop, because he had been in the forenoon; or when in one house
he observeth some servant take a thing in his hand, which the butler is not
suffered to meddle with; or something permitted out of doors, which is
forbidden in the dining-room; and should be angry, that in one house, and
one family, the same thing is not allotted every where, and to all. Even
such are they who are fretted to hear something to have been lawful for
righteous men formerly, which now is not; or that God, for certain temporal
respects, commanded them one thing, and these another, obeying both the same
righteousness: whereas they see, in one man, and one day, and one house,
different things to be fit for different members, and a thing formerly
lawful, after a certain time not so; in one corner permitted or commanded,
but in another rightly forbidden and punished. Is justice therefore various
or mutable? No, but the times, over which it presides, flow not evenly,
because they are times. But men whose days are few upon the earth, for that
by their senses they cannot harmonise the causes of things in former ages
and other nations, which they had not experience of, with these which they
have experience of, whereas in one and the same body, day, or family, they
easily see what is fitting for each member, and season, part, and person; to
the one they take exceptions, to the other they submit.
These things I then knew not, nor observed; they struck my sight on all
sides, and I saw them not. I indited verses, in which I might not place
every foot every where, but differently in different metres; nor even in any
one metre the self-same foot in all places. Yet the art itself, by which I
indited, had not different principles for these different cases, but
comprised all in one. Still I saw not how that righteousness, which good and
holy men obeyed, did far more excellently and sublimely contain in one all
those things which God commanded, and in no part varied; although in varying
times it prescribed not every thing at once, but apportioned and enjoined
what was fit for each. And I in my blindness, censured the holy Fathers, not
only wherein they made use of things present as God commanded and inspired
them, but also wherein they were foretelling things to come, as God was
revealing in them.
Chapter VIII
Can it at any time or place be unjust to love God with all his heart, with
all his soul, and with all his mind; and his neighbour as himself? Therefore
are those foul offences which be against nature, to be every where and at
all times detested and punished; such as were those of the men of Sodom:
which should all nations commit, they should all stand guilty of the same
crime, by the law of God, which hath not so made men that they should so
abuse one another. For even that intercourse which should be between God and
us is violated, when that same nature, of which He is Author, is polluted by
perversity of lust. But those actions which are offences against the customs
of men, are to be avoided according to the customs severally prevailing; so
that a thing agreed upon, and confirmed, by custom or law of any city or
nation, may not be violated at the lawless pleasure of any, whether native
or foreigner. For any part which harmoniseth not with its whole, is
offensive. But when God commands a thing to be done, against the customs or
compact of any people, though it were never by them done heretofore, it is
to be done; and if intermitted, it is to be restored; and if never ordained,
is now to be ordained. For lawful if it he for a king, in the state which he
reigns over, to command that which no one before him, nor he himself
heretofore, had commanded, and to obey him cannot be against the common weal
of the state (nay, it were against it if he were not obeyed, for to obey
princes is a general compact of human society); how much more unhesitatingly
ought we to obey God, in all which He commands, the Ruler of all His
creatures! For as among the powers in man's society, the greater authority
is obeyed in preference to the lesser, so must God above all.
So in acts of violence, where there is a wish to hurt, whether by reproach
or injury; and these either for revenge, as one enemy against another; or
for some profit belonging to another, as the robber to the traveller; or to
avoid some evil, as towards one who is feared; or through envy, as one less
fortunate to one more so, or one well thriven in any thing, to him whose
being on a par with himself he fears, or grieves at, or for the mere
pleasure at another's pain, as spectators of gladiators, or deriders and
mockers of others. These be the heads of iniquity which spring from the lust
of the flesh, of the eye, or of rule, either singly, or two combined, or all
together; and so do men live ill against the three, and seven, that psaltery
of often strings, Thy Ten Commandments, O God, most high, and most sweet.
But what foul offences can there be against Thee, who canst not be defiled?
or what acts of violence against Thee, who canst not be harmed? But Thou
avengest what men commit against themselves, seeing also when they sin
against Thee, they do wickedly against their own souls, and iniquity gives
itself the lie, by corrupting and perverting their nature, which Thou hast
created and ordained, or by an immoderate use of things allowed, or in
burning in things unallowed, to that use which is against nature; or are
found guilty, raging with heart and tongue against Thee, kicking against the
pricks; or when, bursting the pale of human society, they boldly joy in
self-willed combinations or divisions, according as they have any object to
gain or subject of offence. And these things are done when Thou art
forsaken, O Fountain of Life, who art the only and true Creator and Governor
of the Universe, and by a self-willed pride, any one false thing is selected
therefrom and loved. So then by a humble devoutness we return to Thee; and
Thou cleansest us from our evil habits, and art merciful to their sins who
confess, and hearest the groaning of the prisoner, and loosest us from the
chains which we made for ourselves, if we lift not up against Thee the horns
of an unreal liberty, suffering the loss of all, through covetousness of
more, by loving more our own private good than Thee, the Good of all.
Chapter IX
Amidst these offences of foulness and violence, and so many iniquities, are
sins of men, who are on the whole making proficiency; which by those that
judge rightly, are, after the rule of perfection, discommended, yet the
persons commended, upon hope of future fruit, as in the green blade of
growing corn. And there are some, resembling offences of foulness or
violence, which yet are no sins; because they offend neither Thee, our Lord
God, nor human society; when, namely, things fitting for a given period are
obtained for the service of life, and we know not whether out of a lust of
having; or when things are, for the sake of correction, by constituted
authority punished, and we know not whether out of a lust of hurting. Many
an action then which in men's sight is disapproved, is by Thy testimony
approved; and many, by men praised, are (Thou being witness) condemned:
because the show of the action, and the mind of the doer, and the unknown
exigency of the period, severally vary. But when Thou on a sudden commandest
an unwonted and unthought of thing, yea, although Thou hast sometime
forbidden it, and still for the time hidest the reason of Thy command, and
it be against the ordinance of some society of men, who doubts but it is to
be done, seeing that society of men is just which serves Thee? But blessed
are they who know Thy commands! For all things were done by Thy servants;
either to show forth something needful for the present, or to foreshow
things to come.
Chapter X
These things I being ignorant of, scoffed at those Thy holy servants and
prophets. And what gained I by scoffing at them, but to be scoffed at by
Thee, being insensibly and step by step drawn on to those follies, as to
believe that a fig-tree wept when it was plucked, and the tree, its mother,
shed milky tears? Which fig notwithstanding (plucked by some other's, not
his own, guilt) had some Manichaean saint eaten, and mingled with his
bowels, he should breathe out of it angels, yea, there shall burst forth
particles of divinity, at every moan or groan in his prayer, which particles
of the most high and true God had remained bound in that fig, unless they
had been set at liberty by the teeth or belly of some “Elect” saint! And I,
miserable, believed that more mercy was to be shown to the fruits of the
earth than men, for whom they were created. For if any one an hungered, not
a Manichaean, should ask for any, that morsel would seem as it were
condemned to capital punishment, which should be given him.
Chapter XI
And Thou sentest Thine hand from above, and drewest my soul out of that
profound darkness, my mother, Thy faithful one, weeping to Thee for me, more
than mothers weep the bodily deaths of their children. For she, by that
faith and spirit which she had from Thee, discerned the death wherein I lay,
and Thou heardest her, O Lord; Thou heardest her, and despisedst not her
tears, when streaming down, they watered the ground under her eyes in every
place where she prayed; yea Thou heardest her. For whence was that dream
whereby Thou comfortedst her; so that she allowed me to live with her, and
to eat at the same table in the house, which she had begun to shrink from,
abhorring and detesting the blasphemies of my error? For she saw herself
standing on a certain wooden rule, and a shining youth coming towards her,
cheerful and smiling upon her, herself grieving, and overwhelmed with grief.
But he having (in order to instruct, as is their wont not to be instructed)
enquired of her the causes of her grief and daily tears, and she answering
that she was bewailing my perdition, he bade her rest contented, and told
her to look and observe, “That where she was, there was I also.” And when
she looked, she saw me standing by her in the same rule. Whence was this,
but that Thine ears were towards her heart? O Thou Good omnipotent, who so
carest for every one of us, as if Thou caredst for him only; and so for all,
as if they were but one!
Whence was this also, that when she had told me this vision, and I would
fain bend it to mean, “That she rather should not despair of being one day
what I was”; she presently, without any hesitation, replies: “No; for it was
not told me that, ‘where he, there thou also’; but ‘where thou, there he
also’?” I confess to Thee, O Lord, that to the best of my remembrance (and I
have oft spoken of this), that Thy answer, through my waking mother,—that
she was not perplexed by the plausibility of my false interpretation, and so
quickly saw what was to be seen, and which I certainly had not perceived
before she spake,—even then moved me more than the dream itself, by which a
joy to the holy woman, to be fulfilled so long after, was, for the
consolation of her present anguish, so long before foresignified. For almost
nine years passed, in which I wallowed in the mire of that deep pit, and the
darkness of falsehood, often assaying to rise, but dashed down the more
grievously. All which time that chaste, godly, and sober widow (such as Thou
lovest), now more cheered with hope, yet no whit relaxing in her weeping and
mourning, ceased not at all hours of her devotions to bewail my case unto
Thee. And her prayers entered into Thy presence; and yet Thou sufferedst me
to be yet involved and reinvolved in that darkness.
Chapter XII
Thou gavest her meantime another answer, which I call to mind; for much I
pass by, hasting to those things which more press me to confess unto Thee,
and much I do not remember. Thou gavest her then another answer, by a Priest
of Thine, a certain Bishop brought up in Thy Church, and well studied in Thy
books. Whom when this woman had entreated to vouchsafe to converse with me,
refute my errors, unteach me ill things, and teach me good things (for this
he was wont to do, when he found persons fitted to receive it), he refused,
wisely, as I afterwards perceived. For he answered, that I was yet
unteachable, being puffed up with the novelty of that heresy, and had
already perplexed divers unskilful persons with captious questions, as she
had told him: “but let him alone a while” (saith he), “only pray God for
him, he will of himself by reading find what that error is, and how great
its impiety.” At the same time he told her, how himself, when a little one,
had by his seduced mother been consigned over to the Manichees, and had not
only read, but frequently copied out almost all, their books, and had
(without any argument or proof from any one) seen how much that sect was to
be avoided; and had avoided it. Which when he had said, and she would not be
satisfied, but urged him more, with entreaties and many tears, that he would
see me and discourse with me; he, a little displeased at her importunity,
saith, “Go thy ways and God bless thee, for it is not possible that the son
of these tears should perish.” Which answer she took (as she often mentioned
in her conversations with me) as if it had sounded from heaven.
