The Confessions of St. Augustine
his own ignorance, nor would he rashly be entangled in a dispute, whence
he could neither retreat nor extricate himself fairly. Even for this I
liked him the better. For fairer is the modesty of a candid mind, than
the knowledge of those things which I desired; and such I found him, in
all the more difficult and subtile questions.
My zeal for the writings of Manichaeus being thus blunted, and
despairing yet more of their other teachers, seeing that in divers
things which perplexed me, he, so renowned among them, had so turned
out; I began to engage with him in the study of that literature, on
which he also was much set (and which as rhetoric-reader I was at that
time teaching young students at Carthage), and to read with him, either
what himself desired to hear, or such as I judged fit for his genius.
But all my efforts whereby I had purposed to advance in that sect,
upon knowledge of that man, came utterly to an end; not that I detached
myself from them altogether, but as one finding nothing better, I had
settled to be content meanwhile with what I had in whatever way fallen
upon, unless by chance something more eligible should dawn upon me.
Thus, that Faustus, to so many a snare of death, had now neither willing
nor witting it, begun to loosen that wherein I was taken. For Thy hands,
O my God, in the secret purpose of Thy providence, did not forsake my
soul; and out of my mother's heart's blood, through her tears night and
day poured out, was a sacrifice offered for me unto Thee; and Thou didst
deal with me by wondrous ways. Thou didst it, O my God: for the steps
of a man are ordered by the Lord, and He shall dispose his way. Or how
shall we obtain salvation, but from Thy hand, re-making what it made?
Thou didst deal with me, that I should be persuaded to go to Rome, and
to teach there rather, what I was teaching at Carthage. And how I was
persuaded to this, I will not neglect to confess to Thee; because herein
also the deepest recesses of Thy wisdom, and Thy most present mercy to
us, must be considered and confessed. I did not wish therefore to go to
Rome, because higher gains and higher dignities were warranted me by my
friends who persuaded me to this (though even these things had at that
time an influence over my mind), but my chief and almost only reason
was, that I heard that young men studied there more peacefully, and were
kept quiet under a restraint of more regular discipline; so that they
did not, at their pleasures, petulantly rush into the school of
one whose pupils they were not, nor were even admitted without his
permission. Whereas at Carthage there reigns among the scholars a most
disgraceful and unruly licence. They burst in audaciously, and
with gestures almost frantic, disturb all order which any one hath
established for the good of his scholars. Divers outrages they commit,
with a wonderful stolidity, punishable by law, did not custom uphold
them; that custom evincing them to be the more miserable, in that they
now do as lawful what by Thy eternal law shall never be lawful; and they
think they do it unpunished, whereas they are punished with the very
blindness whereby they do it, and suffer incomparably worse than what
they do. The manners then which, when a student, I would not make my
own, I was fain as a teacher to endure in others: and so I was well
pleased to go where, all that knew it, assured me that the like was not
done. But Thou, my refuge and my portion in the land of the living;
that I might change my earthly dwelling for the salvation of my soul,
at Carthage didst goad me, that I might thereby be torn from it; and at
Rome didst proffer me allurements, whereby I might be drawn thither,
by men in love with a dying life, the one doing frantic, the other
promising vain, things; and, to correct my steps, didst secretly use
their and my own perverseness. For both they who disturbed my quiet were
blinded with a disgraceful frenzy, and they who invited me elsewhere
savoured of earth. And I, who here detested real misery, was there
seeking unreal happiness.
But why I went hence, and went thither, Thou knewest, O God, yet
showedst it neither to me, nor to my mother, who grievously bewailed my
journey, and followed me as far as the sea. But I deceived her, holding
me by force, that either she might keep me back or go with me, and I
feigned that I had a friend whom I could not leave, till he had a fair
wind to sail. And I lied to my mother, and such a mother, and escaped:
for this also hast Thou mercifully forgiven me, preserving me, thus full
of execrable defilements, from the waters of the sea, for the water of
Thy Grace; whereby when I was cleansed, the streams of my mother's eyes
should be dried, with which for me she daily watered the ground under
her face. And yet refusing to return without me, I scarcely persuaded
her to stay that night in a place hard by our ship, where was an Oratory
in memory of the blessed Cyprian. That night I privily departed, but she
was not behind in weeping and prayer. And what, O Lord, was she with so
many tears asking of Thee, but that Thou wouldest not suffer me to sail?
But Thou, in the depth of Thy counsels and hearing the main point of her
desire, regardest not what she then asked, that Thou mightest make me
what she ever asked. The wind blew and swelled our sails, and withdrew
the shore from our sight; and she on the morrow was there, frantic with
sorrow, and with complaints and groans filled Thine ears, Who didst then
disregard them; whilst through my desires, Thou wert hurrying me to end
all desire, and the earthly part of her affection to me was chastened
by the allotted scourge of sorrows. For she loved my being with her, as
mothers do, but much more than many; and she knew not how great joy Thou
wert about to work for her out of my absence. She knew not; therefore
did she weep and wail, and by this agony there appeared in her the
inheritance of Eve, with sorrow seeking what in sorrow she had brought
forth. And yet, after accusing my treachery and hardheartedness, she
betook herself again to intercede to Thee for me, went to her wonted
place, and I to Rome.
And lo, there was I received by the scourge of bodily sickness, and I
was going down to hell, carrying all the sins which I had committed,
both against Thee, and myself, and others, many and grievous, over and
above that bond of original sin, whereby we all die in Adam. For
Thou hadst not forgiven me any of these things in Christ, nor had He
abolished by His Cross the enmity which by my sins I had incurred with
Thee. For how should He, by the crucifixion of a phantasm, which I
believed Him to be? So true, then, was the death of my soul, as that
of His flesh seemed to me false; and how true the death of His body,
so false was the life of my soul, which did not believe it. And now the
fever heightening, I was parting and departing for ever. For had I then
parted hence, whither had I departed, but into fire and torments, such
as my misdeeds deserved in the truth of Thy appointment? And this she
knew not, yet in absence prayed for me. But Thou, everywhere present,
heardest her where she was, and, where I was, hadst compassion upon me;
that I should recover the health of my body, though frenzied as yet
in my sacrilegious heart. For I did not in all that danger desire Thy
baptism; and I was better as a boy, when I begged it of my mother's
piety, as I have before recited and confessed. But I had grown up to my
own shame, and I madly scoffed at the prescripts of Thy medicine, who
wouldest not suffer me, being such, to die a double death. With which
wound had my mother's heart been pierced, it could never be healed. For
I cannot express the affection she bore to me, and with how much more
vehement anguish she was now in labour of me in the spirit, than at her
childbearing in the flesh.
I see not then how she should have been healed, had such a death of mine
stricken through the bowels of her love. And where would have been those
her so strong and unceasing prayers, unintermitting to Thee alone? But
wouldest Thou, God of mercies, despise the contrite and humbled heart of
that chaste and sober widow, so frequent in almsdeeds, so full of duty
and service to Thy saints, no day intermitting the oblation at Thine
altar, twice a day, morning and evening, without any intermission,
coming to Thy church, not for idle tattlings and old wives' fables; but
that she might hear Thee in Thy discourses, and Thou her in her prayers.
Couldest Thou despise and reject from Thy aid the tears of such an one,
wherewith she begged of Thee not gold or silver, nor any mutable or
passing good, but the salvation of her son's soul? Thou, by whose gift
she was such? Never, Lord. Yea, Thou wert at hand, and wert hearing and
doing, in that order wherein Thou hadst determined before that it should
be done. Far be it that Thou shouldest deceive her in Thy visions and
answers, some whereof I have, some I have not mentioned, which she laid
up in her faithful heart, and ever praying, urged upon Thee, as
Thine own handwriting. For Thou, because Thy mercy endureth for ever,
vouchsafest to those to whom Thou forgivest all of their debts, to
become also a debtor by Thy promises.
Thou recoveredst me then of that sickness, and healedst the son of Thy
handmaid, for the time in body, that he might live, for Thee to bestow
upon him a better and more abiding health. And even then, at Rome, I
joined myself to those deceiving and deceived "holy ones"; not with
their disciples only (of which number was he, in whose house I had
fallen sick and recovered); but also with those whom they call "The
Elect." For I still thought "that it was not we that sin, but that I
know not what other nature sinned in us"; and it delighted my pride, to
be free from blame; and when I had done any evil, not to confess I had
done any, that Thou mightest heal my soul because it had sinned against
Thee: but I loved to excuse it, and to accuse I know not what other
thing, which was with me, but which I was not. But in truth it was
wholly I, and mine impiety had divided me against myself: and that sin
was the more incurable, whereby I did not judge myself a sinner; and
execrable iniquity it was, that I had rather have Thee, Thee, O God
Almighty, to be overcome in me to my destruction, than myself of Thee to
salvation. Not as yet then hadst Thou set a watch before my mouth, and a
door of safe keeping around my lips, that my heart might not turn
aside to wicked speeches, to make excuses of sins, with men that work
iniquity; and, therefore, was I still united with their Elect.
But now despairing to make proficiency in that false doctrine, even
those things (with which if I should find no better, I had resolved to
rest contented) I now held more laxly and carelessly. For there half
arose a thought in me that those philosophers, whom they call Academics,
were wiser than the rest, for that they held men ought to doubt
everything, and laid down that no truth can be comprehended by man:
for so, not then understanding even their meaning, I also was clearly
convinced that they thought, as they are commonly reported. Yet did I
freely and openly discourage that host of mine from that over-confidence
which I perceived him to have in those fables, which the books of
Manichaeus are full of. Yet I lived in more familiar friendship with
them, than with others who were not of this heresy. Nor did I maintain
it with my ancient eagerness; still my intimacy with that sect (Rome
secretly harbouring many of them) made me slower to seek any other way:
especially since I despaired of finding the truth, from which they had
turned me aside, in Thy Church, O Lord of heaven and earth, Creator of
all things visible and invisible: and it seemed to me very unseemly to