SAINT AUGUSTINE
CONFESSIONS: BOOK EIGHT
TABLE OF CONTENTS
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AUGUSTINE'S THIRTY-SECOND
YEAR. HE CONSULTS SIMPLICIANUS; FROM HIM HEARS THE HISTORY OF THE CONVERSION
OF VICTORINUS, AND LONGS TO DEVOTE HIMSELF ENTIRELY TO GOD, BUT IS MASTERED BY
HIS OLD HABITS, IS STILL FURTHER ROUSED BY THE HISTORY OF ST. ANTONY, AND OF
THE CONVERSION OF TWO COURTIERS; DURING A SEVERE STRUGGLE, HEARS A VOICE FROM
HEAVEN, OPENS SCRIPTURE, AND IS CONVERTED WITH HIS FRIEND ALYPIUS. HIS
MOTHER'S VISIONS FULFILLED.
O MY God, let me,
with thanksgiving, remember, and confess unto Thee Thy mercies on me. Let my
bones be bedewed with Thy love, and let them say unto Thee, Who is like unto
Thee, O Lord? Thou hast broken my bonds in sunder, I will offer unto Thee the
sacrifice of thanksgiving. And how Thou hast broken them, I will declare; and
all who worship Thee, when they hear this, shall say, "Blessed be the
Lord, in heaven and in earth, great and wonderful is His name." Thy words
had stuck fast in my heart, and I was hedged round about on all sides by Thee.
Of Thy eternal life I was now certain, though I saw it in a figure and as
through a glass. Yet I had ceased to doubt that there was an incorruptible
substance, whence was all other substance; nor did I now desire to be more
certain of Thee, but more steadfast in Thee. But for my temporal life, all was
wavering, and my heart had to be purged from the old leaven. The Way, the
Saviour Himself, well pleased me, but as yet I shrunk from going through its
straitness. And Thou didst put into my mind, and it seemed good in my eyes, to
go to Simplicianus, who seemed to me a good servant of Thine; and Thy grace
shone in him. I had heard also that from his very youth he had lived most
devoted unto Thee. Now he was grown into years; and by reason of so great age
spent in such zealous following of Thy ways, he seemed to me likely to have
learned much experience; and so he had. Out of which store I wished that he
would tell me (setting before him my anxieties) which were the fittest way for
one in my case to walk in Thy paths.
2 For, I saw the church full; and one went this way, and another that way. But I
was displeased that I led a secular life; yea now that my desires no longer
inflamed me, as of old, with hopes of honour and profit, a very grievous
burden it was to undergo so heavy a bondage. For, in comparison of Thy
sweetness, and the beauty of Thy house which I loved, those things delighted
me no longer. But still I was enthralled with the love of woman; nor did the
Apostle forbid me to marry, although he advised me to something better,
chiefly wishing that all men were as himself was. But I being weak, chose the
more indulgent place; and because of this alone, was tossed up and down in all
beside, faint and wasted with withering cares, because in other matters I was
constrained against my will to conform myself to a married life, to which I
was given up and enthralled. I had heard from the mouth of the Truth, that
there were some eunuchs which had made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of
heaven's sake: but, saith He, let him who can receive it, receive it. Surely
vain are all men who are ignorant of God, and could not out of the good things
which are seen, find out Him who is good. But I was no longer in that vanity;
I had surmounted it; and by the common witness of all Thy creatures had found
Thee our Creator, and Thy Word, God with Thee, and together with Thee one God,
by whom Thou createdst all things. There is yet another kind of ungodly, who
knowing God, glorified Him not as God, neither were thankful. Into this also
had I fallen, but Thy right hand upheld me, and took me thence, and Thou
placedst me where I might recover. For Thou hast said unto man, Behold, the
fear of the Lord is wisdom, and, Desire not to seem wise; because they who
affirmed themselves to be wise, became fools. But I had now found the goodly
pearl, which, selling all that I had, I ought to have bought, and I hesitated.
3 To Simplicianus then I went, the father of Ambrose (a Bishop now) in receiving
Thy grace, and whom Ambrose truly loved as a father. To him I related the
mazes of my wanderings. But when I mentioned that I had read certain books of
the Platonists, which Victorinus, sometime Rhetoric Professor of Rome (who had
died a Christian, as I had heard), had translated into Latin, he testified his
joy that I had not fallen upon the writings of other philosophers, full of
fallacies and deceits, after the rudiments of this world, whereas the
Platonists many ways led to the belief in God and His Word. Then to exhort me
to the humility of Christ, hidden from the wise, and revealed to little ones,
he spoke of Victorinus himself, whom while at Rome he had most intimately
known: and of him he related what I will not conceal. For it contains great
praise of Thy grace, to be confessed unto Thee, how that aged man, most
learned and skilled in the liberal sciences, and who had read, and weighed so
many works of the philosophers; the instructor of so many noble Senators, who
also, as a monument of his excellent discharge of his office, had (which men
of this world esteem a high honour) both deserved and obtained a statue in the
Roman Forum; he, to that age a worshipper of idols, and a partaker of the
sacrilegious rites, to which almost all the nobility of Rome were given up,
and had inspired the people with the love of
Anubis, barking Deity, and
all
The monster Gods of every kind, who fought
'Gainst Neptune, Venus, and Minerva:
4 whom Rome once conquered,
now adored, all which the aged Victorinus had with thundering eloquence so
many years defended;--he now blushed not to be the child of Thy Christ, and
the new-born babe of Thy fountain; submitting his neck to the yoke of
humility, and subduing his forehead to the reproach of the Cross.
5 O Lord, Lord, Which hast bowed the heavens and come down, touched the
mountains and they did smoke, by what means didst Thou convey Thyself into
that breast? He used to read (as Simplicianus said) the holy Scripture, most
studiously sought and searched into all the Christian writings, and said to
Simplicianus (not openly, but privately and as a friend), "Understand
that I am already a Christian." Whereto he answered, "I will not
believe it, nor will I rank you among Christians, unless I see you in the
Church of Christ." The other, in banter, replied, "Do walls then
make Christians?" And this he often said, that he was already a
Christian; and Simplicianus as often made the same answer, and the conceit of
the "walls" was by the other as often renewed. For he feared to
offend his friends, proud demon-worshippers, from the height of whose
Babylonian dignity, as from cedars of Libanus, which the Lord had not yet
broken down, he supposed the weight of enmity would fall upon him. But after
that by reading and earnest thought he had gathered firmness, and feared to be
denied by Christ before the holy angels, should he now be afraid to confess
Him before men, and appeared to himself guilty of a heavy offence, in being
ashamed of the Sacraments of the humility of Thy Word, and not being ashamed
of the sacrilegious rites of those proud demons, whose pride he had imitated
and their rites adopted, he became bold-faced against vanity, and shame-faced
towards the truth, and suddenly and unexpectedly said to Simplicianus (as
himself told me), "Go we to the Church; I wish to be made a
Christian." But he, not containing himself for joy, went with him. And
having been admitted to the first Sacrament and become a Catechumen, not long
after he further gave in his name, that he might be regenerated by baptism,
Rome wondering, the Church rejoicing. The proud saw, and were wroth; they
gnashed with their teeth, and melted away. But the Lord God was the hope of
Thy servant, and he regarded not vanities and lying madness.
6 To conclude, when the hour was come for making profession of his faith (which
at Rome they, who are about to approach to Thy grace, deliver, from an
elevated place, in the sight of all the faithful, in a set form of words
committed to memory), the presbyters, he said, offered Victorinus (as was done
to such as seemed likely through bashfulness to be alarmed) to make his
profession more privately: but he chose rather to profess his salvation in the
presence of the holy multitude. "For it was not salvation that he taught
in rhetoric, and yet that he had publicly professed: how much less then ought
he, when pronouncing Thy word, to dread Thy meek flock, who, when delivering
his own words, had not feared a mad multitude!" When, then, he went up to
make his profession, all, as they knew him, whispered his name one to another
with the voice of congratulation. And who there knew him not? and there ran a
low murmur through all the mouths of the rejoicing multitude, Victorinus!
Victorinus! Sudden was the burst of rapture, that they saw him; suddenly were
they hushed that they might hear him. He pronounced the true faith with an
excellent boldness, and all wished to draw him into their very heart: yea by
their love and joy they drew him thither, such were the hands wherewith they
drew him.
7 Good God! what takes place in man, that he should more rejoice at the
salvation of a soul despaired of, and freed from greater peril, than if there
had always been hope of him, or the danger had been less? For so Thou also,
merciful Father, dost more rejoice over one penitent than over ninety-nine
just persons that need no repentance. And with much joyfulness do we hear, so
often as we hear with what joy the sheep which had strayed is brought back
upon the shepherd's shoulder, and the groat is restored to Thy treasury, the
neighbours rejoicing with the woman who found it; and the joy of the solemn
service of Thy house forceth to tears, when in Thy house it is read of Thy
younger son, that he was dead, and liveth again; had been lost, and is found.
For Thou rejoicest in us, and in Thy holy angels, holy through holy charity.
For Thou art ever the same; for all things which abide not the same nor for
ever, Thou for ever knowest in the same way.
What then takes place in the soul, when it is more delighted at finding or
recovering the things it loves, than if it had ever had them? yea, and other
things witness hereunto; and all things are full of witnesses, crying out,
"So is it." The conquering commander triumpheth; yet had he not
conquered unless he had fought; and the more peril there was in the battle, so
much the more joy is there in the triumph. The storm tosses the sailors,
threatens shipwreck; all wax pale at approaching death; sky and sea are
calmed, and they are exceeding joyed, as having been exceeding afraid. A
friend is sick, and his pulse threatens danger; all who long for his recovery
are sick in mind with him. He is restored, though as yet he walks not with his
former strength; yet there is such joy, as was not, when before he walked
sound and strong. Yea, the very pleasures of human life men acquire by
difficulties, not those only which fall upon us unlooked for, and against our
wills, but even by self-chosen, and pleasure-seeking trouble. Eating and
drinking have no pleasure, unless there precede the pinching of hunger and
thirst. Men, given to drink, eat certain salt meats, to procure a troublesome
heat, which the drink allaying, causes pleasure. It is also ordered that the
affianced bride should not at once be given, lest as a husband he should hold
cheap whom, as betrothed, he sighed not after.
8 This law holds in foul and accursed joy; this in permitted and lawful joy;
this in the very purest perfection of friendship; this, in him who was dead,
and lived again; had been lost and was found. Every where the greater joy is
ushered in by the greater pain. What means this, O Lord my God, whereas Thou
art everlastingly joy to Thyself, and some things around Thee evermore rejoice
in Thee? What means this, that this portion of things thus ebbs and flows
alternately displeased and reconciled? Is this their allotted measure? Is this
all Thou hast assigned to them, whereas from the highest heavens to the lowest
earth, from the beginning of the world to the end of ages, from the angel to
the worm, from the first motion to the last, Thou settest each in its place,
and realisest each in their season, every thing good after its kind? Woe is
me! how high art Thou in the highest, and how deep in the deepest! and Thou
never departest, and we scarcely return to Thee.
Up, Lord, and do; stir us up, and recall us; kindle and draw us; inflame, grow
sweet unto us; let us now love, let us run. Do not many, out of a deeper hell
of blindness than Victorinus, return to Thee, approach, and are enlightened,
receiving that Light, which they who receive, receive power from Thee to
become Thy sons? But if they be less known to the nations, even they that know
them, joy less for them. For when many joy together, each also has more
exuberant joy for that they are kindled and inflamed one by the other. Again,
because those known to many, influence the more towards salvation, and lead
the way with many to follow. And therefore do they also who preceded them much
rejoice in them, because they rejoice not in them alone. For far be it, that
in Thy tabernacle the persons of the rich should be accepted before the poor,
or the noble before the ignoble; seeing rather Thou hast chosen the weak
things of the world to confound the strong; and the base things of this world,
and the things despised hast Thou chosen, and those things which are not, that
Thou mightest bring to nought things that are. And yet even that least of Thy
apostles, by whose tongue Thou soundedst forth these words, when through his
warfare, Paulus the Proconsul, his pride conquered, was made to pass under the
easy yoke of Thy Christ, and became a provincial of the great King; he also
for his former name Saul, was pleased to be called Paul, in testimony of so
great a victory. For the enemy is more overcome in one, of whom he hath more
hold; by whom he hath hold of more. But the proud he hath more hold of,
through their nobility; and by them, of more through their authority. By how
much the more welcome then the heart of Victorinus was esteemed, which the
devil had held as an impregnable possession, the tongue of Victorinus, with
which mighty and keen weapon he had slain many; so much the more abundantly
ought Thy sons to rejoice, for that our King hath bound the strong man, and
they saw his vessels taken from him and cleansed, and made meet for Thy honour;
and become serviceable for the Lord, unto every good work.
9 But when that man of Thine, Simplicianus, related to me this of Victorinus, I
was on fire to imitate him; for for this very end had he related it. But when
he had subjoined also, how in the days of the Emperor Julian a law was made,
whereby Christians were forbidden to teach the liberal sciences or oratory;
and how he, obeying this law, chose rather to give over the wordy school than
Thy Word, by which Thou makest eloquent the tongues of the dumb; he seemed to
me not more resolute than blessed, in having thus found opportunity to wait on
Thee only. Which thing I was sighing for, bound as I was, not with another's
irons, but by my own iron will. My will the enemy held, and thence had made a
chain for me, and bound me. For of a froward will, was a lust made; and a lust
served, became custom; and custom not resisted, became necessity. By which
links, as it were, joined together (whence I called it a chain) a hard bondage
held me enthralled. But that new will which had begun to be in me, freely to
serve Thee, and to wish to enjoy Thee, O God, the only assured pleasantness,
was not yet able to overcome my former wilfulness, strengthened by age. Thus
did my two wills, one new, and the other old, one carnal, the other spiritual,
struggle within me; and by their discord, undid my soul.
10 Thus I understood, by my own experience, what I had read, how the flesh
lusteth against the spirit and the spirit against the flesh. Myself verily
either way; yet more myself, in that which I approved in myself, than in that
which in myself I disapproved. For in this last, it was now for the more part
not myself, because in much I rather endured against my will, than acted
willingly. And yet it was through me that custom had obtained this power of
warring against me, because I had come willingly, whither I willed not. And
who has any right to speak against it, if just punishment follow the sinner?
Nor had I now any longer my former plea, that I therefore as yet hesitated to
be above the world and serve Thee, for that the truth was not altogether
ascertained to me; for now it too was. But I still under service to the earth,
refused to fight under Thy banner, and feared as much to be freed of all
incumbrances, as we should fear to be encumbered with it. Thus with the
baggage of this present world was I held down pleasantly, as in sleep: and the
thoughts wherein I meditated on Thee were like the efforts of such as would
awake, who yet overcome with a heavy drowsiness, are again drenched therein.
And as no one would sleep for ever, and in all men's sober judgment waking is
better, yet a man for the most part, feeling a heavy lethargy in all his
limbs, defers to shake off sleep, and though half displeased, yet, even after
it is time to rise, with pleasure yields to it, so was I assured that much
better were it for me to give myself up to Thy charity, than to give myself
over to mine own cupidity; but though the former course satisfied me and
gained the mastery, the latter pleased me and held me mastered. Nor had I any
thing to answer Thee calling to me, Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from
the dead, and Christ shall give thee light. And when Thou didst on all sides
show me that what Thou saidst was true, I convicted by the truth, had nothing
at all to answer, but only those dull and drowsy words, "Anon,
anon," "presently," "leave me but a little." But
"presently, presently," had no present, and my "little
while" went on for a long while; in vain I delighted in Thy law according
to the inner man, when another law in my members rebelled against the law of
my mind, and led me captive under the law of sin which was in my members. For
the law of sin is the violence of custom, whereby the mind is drawn and holden,
even against its will; but deservedly, for that it willingly fell into it. Who
then should deliver me thus wretched from the body of this death, but Thy
grace only, through Jesus Christ our Lord?
11And how Thou didst deliver me out of the bonds of desire, wherewith I was
bound most straitly to carnal concupiscence, and out of the drudgery of
worldly things, I will now declare, and confess unto Thy name, O Lord, my
helper and my redeemer. Amid increasing anxiety, I was doing my wonted
business, and daily sighing unto Thee. I attended Thy Church, whenever' free
from the business under the burden of which I groaned. Alypius was with me,
now after the third sitting released from his law business, and awaiting to
whom to sell his counsel, as I sold the skill of speaking, if indeed teaching
can impart it. Nebridius had now, in consideration of our friendship,
consented to teach under Verecundus, a citizen and a grammarian of Milan, and
a very intimate friend of us all; who urgently desired, and by the right of
friendship challenged from our company, such faithful aid as he greatly
needed. Nebridius then was not drawn to this by any desire of advantage (for
he might have made much more of his learning had he so willed), but as a most
kind and gentle friend, he would not be wanting to a good office, and slight
our request. But he acted herein very discreetly, shunning to become known to
personages great according to this world, avoiding the distraction of mind
thence ensuing, and desiring to have it free and at leisure, as many hours as
might be, to seek, or read, or hear something concerning wisdom.
12 Upon a day then, Nebridius being absent (I recollect not why), lo, there came
to see me and Alypius, one Pontitianus, our countryman so far as being an
African, in high office in the Emperor's court. What he would with us, I know
not, but we sat down to converse, and it happened that upon a table for some
game, before us, he observed a book, took, opened it, and contrary to his
expectation, found it the Apostle Paul; for he thought it some of those books
which I was wearing myself in teaching. Whereat smiling, and looking at me, he
expressed his joy and wonder that he had on a sudden found this book, and this
only before my eyes. For he was a Christian, and baptised, and often bowed
himself before Thee our God in the Church, in frequent and continued prayers.
When then I had told him that I bestowed very great pains upon those
Scriptures, a conversation arose (suggested by his account) on Antony the
Egyptian monk: whose name was in high reputation among Thy servants, though to
that hour unknown to us. Which when he discovered, he dwelt the more upon that
subject, informing and wondering at our ignorance of one so eminent. But we
stood amazed, hearing Thy wonderful works most fully attested, in times so
recent, and almost in our own, wrought in the true Faith and Church Catholic.
We all wondered; we, that they were so great, and he, that they had not
reached us.
13 Thence his discourse turned to the flocks in the monasteries, and their holy
ways, a sweet-smelling savour unto Thee, and the fruitful deserts of the
wilderness, whereof we knew nothing. And there was a monastery at Milan, full
of good brethren, without the city walls, under the fostering care of Ambrose,
and we knew it not. He went on with his discourse, and we listened in intent
silence. He told us then how one afternoon at Triers, when the Emperor was
taken up with the Circensian games, he and three others, his companions, went
out to walk in gardens near the city walls, and there as they happened to walk
in pairs, one went apart with him, and the other two wandered by themselves;
and these, in their wanderings, lighted upon a certain cottage, inhabited by
certain of Thy servants, poor in spirit, of whom is the kingdom of heaven, and
there they found a little book containing the life of Antony. This one of them
began to read, admire, and kindle at it; and as he read, to meditate on taking
up such a life, and giving over his secular service to serve Thee. And these
two were of those whom they style agents for the public affairs. Then
suddenly, filled with a holy love, and a sober shame, in anger with himself he
cast his eyes upon his friend, saying, "Tell me, I pray thee, what would
we attain by all these labours of ours? what aim we at? what serve we for? Can
our hopes in court rise higher than to be the Emperor's favourites? and in
this, what is there not brittle, and full of perils? and by how many perils
arrive we at a greater peril? and when arrive we thither? But a friend of God,
if I wish it, I become now at once." So spake he. And in pain with the
travail of a new life, he turned his eyes again upon the book, and read on,
and was changed inwardly, where Thou sawest, and his mind was stripped of the
world, as soon appeared. For as he read, and rolled up and down the waves of
his heart, he stormed at himself a while, then discerned, and determined on a
better course; and now being Thine, said to his friend, "Now have I
broken loose from those our hopes, and am resolved to serve God; and this,
from this hour, in this place, I begin upon. If thou likest not to imitate me,
oppose not." The other answered, he would cleave to him, to partake so
glorious a reward, so glorious a service. Thus both being now Thine, were
building the tower at the necessary cost, the forsaking all that they had, and
following Thee. Then Pontitianus and the other with him, that had walked in
other parts of the garden, came in search of them to the same place; and
finding them, reminded them to return, for the day was now far spent. But they
relating their resolution and purpose, and how that will was begun and settled
in them, begged them, if they would not join, not to molest them. But the
others, though nothing altered from their former selves, did yet bewail
themselves (as he affirmed), and piously congratulated them, recommending
themselves to their prayers; and so, with hearts lingering on the earth, went
away to the palace. But the other two, fixing their heart on heaven, remained
in the cottage. And, both had affianced brides, who when they heard hereof,
also dedicated their virginity unto God.
14 Such was the story of Pontitianus; but Thou, O Lord, while he was speaking,
didst turn me round towards myself, taking me from behind my back where I had
placed me, unwilling to observe myself; and setting me before my face, that I
might see how foul I was, how crooked and defiled, bespotted and ulcerous. And
I beheld and stood aghast; and whither to flee from myself I found not. And if
I sought to turn mine eye from off myself, he went on with his relation, and
Thou again didst set me over against myself, and thrustedst me before my eyes,
that I might find out mine iniquity, and hate it. I had known it, but made as
though I saw it not, winked at it, and forgot it.
15 But now, the more ardently I loved those whose healthful affections I heard
of, that they had resigned themselves wholly to Thee to be cured, the more did
I abhor myself, when compared with them. For many of my years (some twelve)
had now run out with me since my nineteenth, when, upon the reading of
Cicero's Hortensius, I was stirred to an earnest love of wisdom; and still I
was deferring to reject mere earthly felicity, and give myself to search out
that, whereof not the finding only, but the very search, was to be preferred
to the treasures and kingdoms of the world, though already found, and to the
pleasures of the body, though spread around me at my will. But I wretched,
most wretched, in the very commencement of my early youth, had begged chastity
of Thee, and said, "Give me chastity and continency, only not yet."
For I feared lest Thou shouldest hear me soon, and soon cure me of the disease
of concupiscence, which I wished to have satisfied, rather than extinguished.
And I had wandered through crooked ways in a sacrilegious superstition, not
indeed assured thereof, but as preferring it to the others which I did not
seek religiously, but opposed maliciously.
16 I had thought that I therefore deferred from day to day to reject the hopes of
this world, and follow Thee only, because there did not appear aught certain,
whither to direct my course. And now was the day come wherein I was to be laid
bare to myself, and my conscience was to upbraid me. "Where art thou now,
my tongue? Thou saidst that for an uncertain truth thou likedst not to cast
off the baggage of vanity; now, it is certain, and yet that burden still
oppresseth thee, while they who neither have so worn themselves out with
seeking it, nor for ten years and more have been thinking thereon, have had
their shoulders lightened, and received wings to fly away." Thus was I
gnawed within, and exceedingly confounded with a horrible shame, while
Pontitianus was so speaking. And he having brought to a close his tale and the
business he came for, went his way; and I into myself. What said I not against
myself? with what scourges of condemnation lashed I not my soul, that it might
follow me, striving to go after Thee! Yet it drew back; refused, but excused
not itself. All arguments were spent and confuted; there remained a mute
shrinking; and she feared, as she would death, to be restrained from the flux
of that custom, whereby she was wasting to death.
Then in this great contention of my inward dwelling, which I had strongly
raised against my soul, in the chamber of my heart, troubled in mind and
countenance, I turned upon Alypius. "What ails us?" I exclaim:
"what is it? what heardest thou? The unlearned start up and take heaven
by force, and we with our learning, and without heart, lo, where we wallow in
flesh and blood! Are we ashamed to follow, because others are gone before, and
not ashamed not even to follow?" Some such words I uttered, and my fever
of mind tore me away from him, while he, gazing on me in astonishment, kept
silence. For it was not my wonted tone; and my forehead, cheeks, eyes, colour,
tone of voice, spake my mind more than the words I uttered. A little garden
there was to our lodging, which we had the use of, as of the whole house; for
the master of the house, our host, was not living there. Thither had the
tumult of my breast hurried me, where no man might hinder the hot contention
wherein I had engaged with myself, until it should end as Thou knewest, I knew
not. Only I was healthfully distracted and dying, to live; knowing what evil
thing I was, and not knowing what good thing I was shortly to become. I
retired then into the garden, and Alypius, on my steps. For his presence did
not lessen my privacy; or how could he forsake me so disturbed? We sate down
as far removed as might be from the house. I was troubled in spirit, most
vehemently indignant that I entered not into Thy will and covenant, O my God,
which all my bones cried out unto me to enter, and praised it to the skies.
And therein we enter not by ships, or chariots, or feet, no, move not so far
as I had come from the house to that place where we were sitting. For, not to
go only, but to go in thither was nothing else but to will to go, but to will
resolutely and thoroughly; not to turn and toss, this way and that, a maimed
and half-divided will, struggling, with one part sinking as another rose.
17 Lastly, in the very fever of my irresoluteness, I made with my body many such
motions as men sometimes would, but cannot, if either they have not the limbs,
or these be bound with bands, weakened with infirmity, or any other way
hindered. Thus, if I tore my hair, beat my forehead, if locking my fingers I
clasped my knee; I willed, I did it. But I might have willed, and not done it;
if the power of motion in my limbs had not obeyed. So many things then I did,
when "to will" was not in itself "to be able"; and I did
not what both I longed incomparably more to do, and which soon after, when I
should will, I should be able to do; because soon after, when I should will, I
should will thoroughly. For in these things the ability was one with the will,
and to will was to do; and yet was it not done: and more easily did my body
obey the weakest willing of my soul, in moving its limbs at its nod, than the
soul obeyed itself to accomplish in the will alone this its momentous will.
18 Whence is this monstrousness? and to what end? Let Thy mercy gleam that I may
ask, if so be the secret penalties of men, and those darkest pangs of the sons
of Adam, may perhaps answer me. Whence is this monstrousness? and to what end?
The mind commands the body, and it obeys instantly; the mind commands itself,
and is resisted. The mind commands the hand to be moved; and such readiness is
there, that command is scarce distinct from obedience. Yet the mind is mind,
the hand is body. The mind commands the mind, its own self, to will, and yet
it doth not. Whence this monstrousness? and to what end? It commands itself, I
say, to will, and would not command, unless it willed, and what it commands is
not done. But it willeth not entirely: therefore doth it not command entirely.
For so far forth it commandeth, as it willeth: and, so far forth is the thing
commanded, not done, as it willeth not. For the will commandeth that there be
a will; not another, but itself. But it doth not command entirely, therefore
what it commandeth, is not. For were the will entire, it would not even
command it to be, because it would already be. It is therefore no
monstrousness partly to will, partly to nill, but a disease of the mind, that
it doth not wholly rise, by truth up-borne, borne down by custom. And
therefore are there two wills, for that one of them is not entire: and what
the one lacketh, the other hath.
19 Let them perish from Thy presence, O God, as perish vain talkers and seducers
of the soul: who observing that in deliberating there were two wills, affirm
that there are two minds in us of two kinds, one good, the other evil.
Themselves are truly evil, when they hold these evil things; and themselves
shall become good when they hold the truth and assent unto the truth, that Thy
Apostle may say to them, Ye were sometimes darkness, but now light in the
Lord. But they, wishing to be light, not in the Lord, but in themselves,
imagining the nature of the soul to be that which God is, are made more gross
darkness through a dreadful arrogancy; for that they went back farther from
Thee, the true Light that enlighteneth every man that cometh into the world.
Take heed what you say, and blush for shame: draw near unto Him and be
enlightened, and your faces shall not be ashamed. Myself when I was
deliberating upon serving the Lord my God now, as I had long purposed, it was
I who willed, I who nilled, I, I myself. I neither willed entirely, nor nilled
entirely. Therefore was I at strife with myself, and rent asunder by myself.
And this rent befell me against my will, and yet indicated, not the presence
of another mind, but the punishment of my own. Therefore it was no more I that
wrought it, but sin that dwelt in me; the punishment of a sin more freely
committed, in that I was a son of Adam.
20 For if there be so many contrary natures as there be conflicting wills, there
shall now be not two only, but many. If a man deliberate whether he should go
to their conventicle or to the theatre, these Manichees cry out, Behold, here
are two natures: one good, draws this way; another bad, draws back that way.
For whence else is this hesitation between conflicting wills? But I say that
both be bad: that which draws to them, as that which draws back to the
theatre. But they believe not that will to be other than good, which draws to
them. What then if one of us should deliberate, and amid the strife of his two
wills be in a strait, whether he should go to the theatre or to our church?
would not these Manichees also be in a strait what to answer? For either they
must confess (which they fain would not) that the will which leads to our
church is good, as well as theirs, who have received and are held by the
mysteries of theirs: or they must suppose two evil natures, and two evil souls
conflicting in one man, and it will not be true, which they say, that there is
one good and another bad; or they must be converted to the truth, and no more
deny that where one deliberates, one soul fluctuates between contrary wills.
21 Let them no more say then, when they perceive two conflicting wills in one
man, that the conflict is between two contrary souls, of two contrary
substances, from two contrary principles, one good, and the other bad. For
Thou, O true God, dost disprove, check, and convict them; as when, both wills
being bad, one deliberates whether he should kill a man by poison or by the
sword; whether he should seize this or that estate of another's, when he
cannot both; whether he should purchase pleasure by luxury, or keep his money
by covetousness; whether he go to the circus or the theatre, if both be open
on one day; or, thirdly, to rob another's house, if he have the opportunity;
or, fourthly, to commit adultery, if at the same time he have the means
thereof also; all these meeting together in the same juncture of time, and all
being equally desired, which cannot at one time be acted: for they rend the
mind amid four, or even (amid the vast variety of things desired) more,
conflicting wills, nor do they yet allege that there are so many divers
substances. So also in wills which are good. For I ask them, is it good to
take pleasure in reading the Apostle? or good to take pleasure in a sober
Psalm? or good to discourse on the Gospel? They will answer to each, "it
is good." What then if all give equal pleasure, and all at once? Do not
divers wills distract the mind, while he deliberates which he should rather
choose? yet are they all good, and are at variance till one be chosen, whither
the one entire will may be borne, which before was divided into many. Thus
also, when, above, eternity delights us, and the pleasure of temporal good
holds us down below, it is the same soul which willeth not this or that with
an entire will; and therefore is rent asunder with grievous perplexities,
while out of truth it sets this first, but out of habit sets not that aside.
22 Thus soul-sick was I, and tormented, accusing myself much more severely than
my wont, rolling and turning me in my chain, till that were wholly broken,
whereby I now was but just, but still was, held. And Thou, O Lord, pressedst
upon me in my inward parts by a severe mercy, redoubling the lashes of fear
and shame, lest I should again give way, and not bursting that same slight
remaining tie, it should recover strength, and bind me the faster. For I said
within myself, "Be it done now, be it done now"; and as I spake, I
all but enacted it: I all but did it, and did it not: yet sunk not back to my
former state, but kept my stand hard by, and took breath. And I essayed again,
and wanted somewhat less of it, and somewhat less, and all but touched, and
laid hold of it; and yet came not at it, nor touched nor laid hold of it;
hesitating to die to death and to live to life: and the worse whereto I was
inured, prevailed more with me than the better whereto I was unused: and the
very moment wherein I was to become other than I was, the nearer it approached
me, the greater horror did it strike into me; yet did it not strike me back,
nor turned me away, but held me in suspense.
23 The very toys of toys, and vanities of vanities, my ancient mistresses, still
held me; they plucked my fleshly garment, and whispered softly, "Dost
thou cast us off? and from that moment shall we no more be with thee for ever?
and from that moment shall not this or that be lawful for thee for ever?"
And what was it which they suggested in that I said, "this or that,"
what did they suggest, O my God? Let Thy mercy turn it away from the soul of
Thy servant. What defilements did they suggest! what shame! And now I much
less than half heard them, and not openly showing themselves and contradicting
me, but muttering as it were behind my back, and privily plucking me, as I was
departing, but to look back on them. Yet they did retard me, so that I
hesitated to burst and shake myself free from them, and to spring over whither
I was called; a violent habit saying to me, "Thinkest thou, thou cans,
live without them?"
24 But now it spake very faintly. For on that side whither I had set my face, and
whither I trembled to go, there appeared unto me the chaste dignity of
Continency, serene, yet not relaxedly, gay, honestly alluring me to come and
doubt not; and stretching forth to receive and embrace me, her holy hands full
of multitudes of good examples: there were so many young men and maidens here,
a multitude of youth and every age, grave widows and aged virgins; and
Continence herself in all, not barren, but a fruitful mother of children of
joys, by Thee her Husband, O Lord. And she smiled on me with a persuasive
mockery, as would she say, "Canst not thou what these youths, what these
maidens can? or can they either in themselves, and not rather in the Lord
their God? The Lord their God gave me unto them. Why standest thou in thyself,
and so standest not? cast thyself upon Him, fear not He will not withdraw
Himself that thou shouldest fall; cast thyself fearlessly upon Him, He will
receive, and will heal thee." And I blushed exceedingly, for that I yet
heard the muttering of those toys, and hung in suspense. And she again seemed
to say, "Stop thine ears against those thy unclean members on the earth,
that they may be mortified. They tell thee of delights, but not as doth the
law of the Lord thy God." This controversy in my heart was self against
self only. But Alypius sitting close by my side, in silence waited the issue
of my unwonted emotion.
25 But when a deep consideration had from the secret bottom of my soul drawn
together and heaped up all my misery in the sight of my heart; there arose a
mighty storm, bringing a mighty shower of tears. Which that I might pour forth
wholly, in its natural expressions, I rose from Alypius: solitude was
suggested to me as fitter for the business of weeping; so I retired so far
that even his presence could not be a burden to me. Thus was it then with me,
and he perceived something of it; for something I suppose I had spoken,
wherein the tones of my voice appeared choked with weeping, and so had risen
up. He then remained where we were sitting, most extremely astonished. I cast
myself down I know not how, under a certain fig tree, giving full vent to my
tears; and the floods of mine eyes gushed out an acceptable sacrifice to Thee.
And, not indeed in these words, yet to this purpose, spake I much unto Thee:
and Thou, O Lord, how long? how long, Lord, wilt Thou be angry for ever?
Remember not our former iniquities, for I felt that I was held by them. I sent
up these sorrowful words: How long, how long, "to-morrow, and
to-morrow?" Why not now? why not is there this hour an end to my
uncleanness?
26 So was I speaking and weeping in the most bitter contrition of my heart, when,
lo! I heard from a neighbouring house a voice, as of boy or girl, I know not,
chanting, and oft repeating, "Take up and read; Take up and read."
Instantly, my countenance altered, I began to think most intently whether
children were wont in any kind of play to sing such words: nor could I
remember ever to have heard the like. So checking the torrent of my tears, I
arose; interpreting it to be no other than a command from God to open the
book, and read the first chapter I should find. For I had heard of Antony,
that coming in during the reading of the Gospel, he received the admonition,
as if what was being read was spoken to him: Go, sell all that thou hast, and
give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven, and come and follow
me: and by such oracle he was forthwith converted unto Thee. Eagerly then I
returned to the place where Alypius was sitting; for there had I laid the
volume of the Apostle when I arose thence. I seized, opened, and in silence
read that section on which my eyes first fell: Not in rioting and drunkenness,
not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying; but put ye on the
Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, in concupiscence. No
further would I read; nor needed I: for instantly at the end of this sentence,
by a light as it were of serenity infused into my heart, all the darkness of
doubt vanished away.
Then putting my finger between, or some other mark, I shut the volume, and
with a calmed countenance made it known to Alypius. And what was wrought in
him, which I knew not, he thus showed me. He asked to see what I had read: I
showed him; and he looked even further than I had read, and I knew not what
followed. This followed, him that is weak in the faith, receive; which he
applied to himself, and disclosed to me. And by this admonition was he
strengthened; and by a good resolution and purpose, and most corresponding to
his character, wherein he did always very far differ from me, for the better,
without any turbulent delay he joined me. Thence we go in to my mother; we
tell her; she rejoiceth: we relate in order how it took place; she leaps for
joy, and triumpheth, and blesseth Thee, Who art able to do above that which we
ask or think; for she perceived that Thou hadst given her more for me, than
she was wont to beg by her pitiful and most sorrowful groanings. For thou
convertedst me unto Thyself, so that I sought neither wife, nor any hope of
this world, standing in that rule of faith, where Thou hadst showed me unto
her in a vision, so many years before. And Thou didst convert her mourning
into joy, much more plentiful than she had desired, and in a much more
precious and purer way than she erst required, by having grandchildren of my
body.
BOOK nINE
TABLE OF CONTENTS
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