The Confessions of St. Augustine
attempered between slackness and stiffness. And who is he, O Lord, who
is not some whit transported beyond the limits of necessity? whoever he
is, he is a great one; let him make Thy Name great. But I am not such,
for I am a sinful man. Yet do I too magnify Thy name; and He maketh
intercession to Thee for my sins who hath overcome the world; numbering
me among the weak members of His body; because Thine eyes have seen that
of Him which is imperfect, and in Thy book shall all be written.
With the allurements of smells, I am not much concerned. When absent, I
do not miss them; when present, I do not refuse them; yet ever ready to
be without them. So I seem to myself; perchance I am deceived. For that
also is a mournful darkness whereby my abilities within me are hidden
from me; so that my mind making enquiry into herself of her own powers,
ventures not readily to believe herself; because even what is in it
is mostly hidden, unless experience reveal it. And no one ought to be
secure in that life, the whole whereof is called a trial, that he who
hath been capable of worse to be made better, may not likewise of better
be made worse. Our only hope, only confidence, only assured promise is
Thy mercy.
The delights of the ear had more firmly entangled and subdued me; but
Thou didst loosen and free me. Now, in those melodies which Thy words
breathe soul into, when sung with a sweet and attuned voice, I do
a little repose; yet not so as to be held thereby, but that I can
disengage myself when I will. But with the words which are their
life and whereby they find admission into me, themselves seek in my
affections a place of some estimation, and I can scarcely assign them
one suitable. For at one time I seem to myself to give them more honour
than is seemly, feeling our minds to be more holily and fervently raised
unto a flame of devotion, by the holy words themselves when thus sung,
than when not; and that the several affections of our spirit, by a sweet
variety, have their own proper measures in the voice and singing, by
some hidden correspondence wherewith they are stirred up. But this
contentment of the flesh, to which the soul must not be given over to be
enervated, doth oft beguile me, the sense not so waiting upon reason as
patiently to follow her; but having been admitted merely for her sake,
it strives even to run before her, and lead her. Thus in these things I
unawares sin, but afterwards am aware of it.
At other times, shunning over-anxiously this very deception, I err in
too great strictness; and sometimes to that degree, as to wish the whole
melody of sweet music which is used to David's Psalter, banished from
my ears, and the Church's too; and that mode seems to me safer, which I
remember to have been often told me of Athanasius, Bishop of Alexandria,
who made the reader of the psalm utter it with so slight inflection
of voice, that it was nearer speaking than singing. Yet again, when
I remember the tears I shed at the Psalmody of Thy Church, in the
beginning of my recovered faith; and how at this time I am moved, not
with the singing, but with the things sung, when they are sung with a
clear voice and modulation most suitable, I acknowledge the great use
of this institution. Thus I fluctuate between peril of pleasure and
approved wholesomeness; inclined the rather (though not as pronouncing
an irrevocable opinion) to approve of the usage of singing in the
church; that so by the delight of the ears the weaker minds may rise to
the feeling of devotion. Yet when it befalls me to be more moved with
the voice than the words sung, I confess to have sinned penally, and
then had rather not hear music. See now my state; weep with me, and weep
for me, ye, whoso regulate your feelings within, as that good action
ensues. For you who do not act, these things touch not you. But Thou, O
Lord my God, hearken; behold, and see, and have mercy and heal me, Thou,
in whose presence I have become a problem to myself; and that is my
infirmity.
There remains the pleasure of these eyes of my flesh, on which to make
my confessions in the hearing of the ears of Thy temple, those brotherly
and devout ears; and so to conclude the temptations of the lust of
the flesh, which yet assail me, groaning earnestly, and desiring to be
clothed upon with my house from heaven. The eyes love fair and varied
forms, and bright and soft colours. Let not these occupy my soul; let
God rather occupy it, who made these things, very good indeed, yet is
He my good, not they. And these affect me, waking, the whole day, nor
is any rest given me from them, as there is from musical, sometimes in
silence, from all voices. For this queen of colours, the light, bathing
all which we behold, wherever I am through the day, gliding by me in
varied forms, soothes me when engaged on other things, and not observing
it. And so strongly doth it entwine itself, that if it be suddenly
withdrawn, it is with longing sought for, and if absent long, saddeneth
the mind.
O Thou Light, which Tobias saw, when, these eyes closed, he taught his
son the way of life; and himself went before with the feet of charity,
never swerving. Or which Isaac saw, when his fleshly eyes being heavy
and closed by old age, it was vouchsafed him, not knowingly, to bless
his sons, but by blessing to know them. Or which Jacob saw, when he
also, blind through great age, with illumined heart, in the persons of
his sons shed light on the different races of the future people, in
them foresignified; and laid his hands, mystically crossed, upon
his grandchildren by Joseph, not as their father by his outward eye
corrected them, but as himself inwardly discerned. This is the light, it
is one, and all are one, who see and love it. But that corporeal light
whereof I spake, it seasoneth the life of this world for her blind
lovers, with an enticing and dangerous sweetness. But they who know how
to praise Thee for it, "O all-creating Lord," take it up in Thy hymns,
and are not taken up with it in their sleep. Such would I be. These
seductions of the eyes I resist, lest my feet wherewith I walk upon Thy
way be ensnared; and I lift up mine invisible eyes to Thee, that Thou
wouldest pluck my feet out of the snare. Thou dost ever and anon pluck
them out, for they are ensnared. Thou ceasest not to pluck them out,
while I often entangle myself in the snares on all sides laid; because
Thou that keepest Israel shalt neither slumber nor sleep.
What innumerable toys, made by divers arts and manufactures, in our
apparel, shoes, utensils and all sorts of works, in pictures also and
divers images, and these far exceeding all necessary and moderate use
and all pious meaning, have men added to tempt their own eyes withal;
outwardly following what themselves make, inwardly forsaking Him by whom
themselves were made, and destroying that which themselves have been
made! But I, my God and my Glory, do hence also sing a hymn to Thee, and
do consecrate praise to Him who consecrateth me, because those beautiful
patterns which through men's souls are conveyed into their cunning
hands, come from that Beauty, which is above our souls, which my soul
day and night sigheth after. But the framers and followers of the
outward beauties derive thence the rule of judging of them, but not of
using them. And He is there, though they perceive Him not, that so they
might not wander, but keep their strength for Thee, and not scatter it
abroad upon pleasurable weariness. And I, though I speak and see this,
entangle my steps with these outward beauties; but Thou pluckest me out,
O Lord, Thou pluckest me out; because Thy loving-kindness is before my
eyes. For I am taken miserably, and Thou pluckest me out mercifully;
sometimes not perceiving it, when I had but lightly lighted upon them;
otherwhiles with pain, because I had stuck fast in them.
To this is added another form of temptation more manifoldly dangerous.
For besides that concupiscence of the flesh which consisteth in the
delight of all senses and pleasures, wherein its slaves, who go far from
Thee, waste and perish, the soul hath, through the same senses of the
body, a certain vain and curious desire, veiled under the title of
knowledge and learning, not of delighting in the flesh, but of making
experiments through the flesh. The seat whereof being in the appetite
of knowledge, and sight being the sense chiefly used for attaining
knowledge, it is in Divine language called The lust of the eyes. For, to
see, belongeth properly to the eyes; yet we use this word of the other
senses also, when we employ them in seeking knowledge. For we do not
say, hark how it flashes, or smell how it glows, or taste how it shines,
or feel how it gleams; for all these are said to be seen. And yet we
say not only, see how it shineth, which the eyes alone can perceive; but
also, see how it soundeth, see how it smelleth, see how it tasteth,
see how hard it is. And so the general experience of the senses, as
was said, is called The lust of the eyes, because the office of seeing,
wherein the eyes hold the prerogative, the other senses by way
of similitude take to themselves, when they make search after any
knowledge.
But by this may more evidently be discerned, wherein pleasure and
wherein curiosity is the object of the senses; for pleasure seeketh
objects beautiful, melodious, fragrant, savoury, soft; but curiosity,
for trial's sake, the contrary as well, not for the sake of suffering
annoyance, but out of the lust of making trial and knowing them. For
what pleasure hath it, to see in a mangled carcase what will make you
shudder? and yet if it be lying near, they flock thither, to be made
sad, and to turn pale. Even in sleep they are afraid to see it. As if
when awake, any one forced them to see it, or any report of its beauty
drew them thither! Thus also in the other senses, which it were long to
go through. From this disease of curiosity are all those strange sights
exhibited in the theatre. Hence men go on to search out the hidden
powers of nature (which is besides our end), which to know profits not,
and wherein men desire nothing but to know. Hence also, if with that
same end of perverted knowledge magical arts be enquired by. Hence also
in religion itself, is God tempted, when signs and wonders are demanded
of Him, not desired for any good end, but merely to make trial of.
In this so vast wilderness, full of snares and dangers, behold many of
them I have cut off, and thrust out of my heart, as Thou hast given me,
O God of my salvation. And yet when dare I say, since so many things of
this kind buzz on all sides about our daily life--when dare I say that
nothing of this sort engages my attention, or causes in me an idle
interest? True, the theatres do not now carry me away, nor care I to
know the courses of the stars, nor did my soul ever consult ghosts
departed; all sacrilegious mysteries I detest. From Thee, O Lord my God,
to whom I owe humble and single-hearted service, by what artifices
and suggestions doth the enemy deal with me to desire some sign! But I
beseech Thee by our King, and by our pure and holy country, Jerusalem,
that as any consenting thereto is far from me, so may it ever be further
and further. But when I pray Thee for the salvation of any, my end and
intention is far different. Thou givest and wilt give me to follow Thee
willingly, doing what Thou wilt.
Notwithstanding, in how many most petty and contemptible things is our
curiosity daily tempted, and how often we give way, who can recount? How
often do we begin as if we were tolerating people telling vain stories,
lest we offend the weak; then by degrees we take interest therein! I go
not now to the circus to see a dog coursing a hare; but in the field,