Confessions Book 10 1599 verses

1Let me know Thee, O Lord, who knowest me: let me know Thee, as I am known.

2Power of my soul, enter into it, and fit it for Thee, that Thou mayest have and hold it without spot or wrinkle.

3This is my hope, therefore do I speak; and in this hope do I rejoice, when I rejoice healthfully.

4Other things of this life are the less to be sorrowed for, the more they are sorrowed for; and the more to be sorrowed for, the less men sorrow for them.

5For behold, Thou lovest the truth, and he that doth it, cometh to the light.

6This would I do in my heart before Thee in confession: and in my writing, before many witnesses.

7And from Thee, O Lord, unto whose eyes the abyss of man's conscience is naked, what could be hidden in me though I would not confess it?

8For I should hide Thee from me, not me from Thee.

9But now, for that my groaning is witness, that I am displeased with myself, Thou shinest out, and art pleasing, and beloved, and longed for; that I may be ashamed of myself, and renounce myself, and choose Thee, and neither please Thee nor myself, but in Thee.

10To Thee therefore, O Lord, am I open, whatever I am; and with what fruit I confess unto Thee, I have said.

11Nor do I it with words and sounds of the flesh, but with the words of my soul, and the cry of the thought which Thy ear knoweth.

12For when I am evil, then to confess to Thee is nothing else than to be displeased with myself; but when holy, nothing else than not to ascribe it to myself: because Thou, O Lord, blessest the godly, but first Thou justifieth him when ungodly.

13My confession then, O my God, in Thy sight, is made silently, and not silently.

14For in sound, it is silent; in affection, it cries aloud.

15For neither do I utter any thing right unto men, which Thou hast not before heard from me; nor dost Thou hear any such thing from me, which Thou hast not first said unto me.

16What then have I to do with men, that they should hear my confessions—as if they could heal all my infirmities—a race, curious to know the lives of others, slothful to amend their own?

17Why seek they to hear from me what I am; who will not hear from Thee what themselves are?

18And how know they, when from myself they hear of myself, whether I say true; seeing no man knows what is in man, but the spirit of man which is in him?

19But if they hear from Thee of themselves, they cannot say, "The Lord lieth." For what is it to hear from Thee of themselves, but to know themselves?

20and who knoweth and saith, "It is false," unless himself lieth?

21But because charity believeth all things (that is, among those whom knitting unto itself it maketh one), I also, O Lord, will in such wise confess unto Thee, that men may hear, to whom I cannot demonstrate whether I confess truly; yet they believe me, whose ears charity openeth unto me.

22But do Thou, my inmost Physician, make plain unto me what fruit I may reap by doing it.

23For the confessions of my past sins, which Thou hast forgiven and covered, that Thou mightest bless me in Thee, changing my soul by Faith and Thy Sacrament, when read and heard, stir up the heart, that it sleep not in despair and say "I cannot," but awake in the love of Thy mercy and the sweetness of Thy grace, whereby whoso is weak, is strong, when by it he became conscious of his own weakness.

24And the good delight to hear of the past evils of such as are now freed from them, not because they are evils, but because they have been and are not.

25With what fruit then, O Lord my God, to Whom my conscience daily confesseth, trusting more in the hope of Thy mercy than in her own innocency, with what fruit, I pray, do I by this book confess to men also in Thy presence what I now am, not what I have been?

26For that other fruit I have seen and spoken of.

27But what I now am, at the very time of making these confessions, divers desire to know, who have or have not known me, who have heard from me or of me; but their ear is not at my heart where I am, whatever I am.

28They wish then to hear me confess what I am within; whither neither their eye, nor ear, nor understanding can reach; they wish it, as ready to believe—but will they know?

29For charity, whereby they are good, telleth them that in my confessions I lie not; and she in them, believeth me.

30But for what fruit would they hear this?

31Do they desire to joy with me, when they hear how near, by Thy gift, I approach unto Thee?

32and to pray for me, when they shall hear how much I am held back by my own weight?

33To such will I discover myself.

34For it is no mean fruit, O Lord my God, that by many thanks should be given to Thee on our behalf, and Thou be by many entreated for us.

35Let the brotherly mind love in me what Thou teachest is to be loved, and lament in me what Thou teachest is to be lamented.

36Let a brotherly, not a stranger, mind, not that of the strange children, whose mouth talketh of vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of iniquity, but that brotherly mind which when it approveth, rejoiceth for me, and when it disapproveth me, is sorry for me; because whether it approveth or disapproveth, it loveth me.

37To such will I discover myself: they will breathe freely at my good deeds, sigh for my ill.

38My good deeds are Thine appointments, and Thy gifts; my evil ones are my offences, and Thy judgments.

39Let them breathe freely at the one, sigh at the other; and let hymns and weeping go up into Thy sight, out of the hearts of my brethren, Thy censers.

40And do Thou, O Lord, be pleased with the incense of Thy holy temple, have mercy upon me according to Thy great mercy for Thine own name's sake; and no ways forsaking what Thou hast begun, perfect my imperfections.

41This is the fruit of my confessions of what I am, not of what I have been, to confess this, not before Thee only, in a secret exultation with trembling, and a secret sorrow with hope; but in the ears also of the believing sons of men, sharers of my joy, and partners in my mortality, my fellow-citizens, and fellow-pilgrims, who are gone before, or are to follow on, companions of my way.

42These are Thy servants, my brethren, whom Thou willest to be Thy sons; my masters, whom Thou commandest me to serve, if I would live with Thee, of Thee.

43But this Thy Word were little did it only command by speaking, and not go before in performing.

44This then I do in deed and word, this I do under Thy wings; in over great peril, were not my soul subdued unto Thee under Thy wings, and my infirmity known unto Thee.

45I am a little one, but my Father ever liveth, and my Guardian is sufficient for me.

46For He is the same who begat me, and defends me: and Thou Thyself art all my good; Thou, Almighty, Who are with me, yea, before I am with Thee.

47To such then whom Thou commandest me to serve will I discover, not what I have been, but what I now am and what I yet am.

48But neither do I judge myself.

49Thus therefore I would be heard.

50For Thou, Lord, dost judge me: because, although no man knoweth the things of a man, but the spirit of a man which is in him, yet is there something of man, which neither the spirit of man that is in him, itself knoweth.

51But Thou, Lord, knowest all of him, Who hast made him.

52Yet I, though in Thy sight I despise myself, and account myself dust and ashes; yet know I something of Thee, which I know not of myself.

53And truly, now we see through a glass darkly, not face to face as yet.

54So long therefore as I be absent from Thee, I am more present with myself than with Thee; and yet know I Thee that Thou art in no ways passible; but I, what temptations I can resist, what I cannot, I know not.

55And there is hope, because Thou art faithful, Who wilt not suffer us to be tempted above that we are able; but wilt with the temptation also make a way to escape, that we may be able to bear it.

56I will confess then what I know of myself, I will confess also what I know not of myself.

57And that because what I do know of myself, I know by Thy shining upon me; and what I know not of myself, so long know I not it, until my darkness be made as the noon-day in Thy countenance.

58Not with doubting, but with assured consciousness, do I love Thee, Lord.

59Thou hast stricken my heart with Thy word, and I loved Thee.

60Yea also heaven, and earth, and all that therein is, behold, on every side they bid me love Thee; nor cease to say so unto all, that they may be without excuse.

61But more deeply wilt Thou have mercy on whom Thou wilt have mercy, and wilt have compassion on whom Thou hast had compassion: else in deaf ears do the heaven and the earth speak Thy praises.

62But what do I love, when I love Thee?

63not beauty of bodies, nor the fair harmony of time, nor the brightness of the light, so gladsome to our eyes, nor sweet melodies of varied songs, nor the fragrant smell of flowers, and ointments, and spices, not manna and honey, not limbs acceptable to embracements of flesh.

64None of these I love, when I love my God; and yet I love a kind of light, and melody, and fragrance, and meat, and embracement when I love my God, the light, melody, fragrance, meat, embracement of my inner man: where there shineth unto my soul what space cannot contain, and there soundeth what time beareth not away, and there smelleth what breathing disperseth not, and there tasteth what eating diminisheth not, and there clingeth what satiety divorceth not.

65This is it which I love when I love my God.

66And what is this?

67I asked the earth, and it answered me, "I am not He"; and whatsoever are in it confessed the same.

68I asked the sea and the deeps, and the living creeping things, and they answered, "We are not thy God, seek above us." I asked the moving air; and the whole air with his inhabitants answered, "Anaximenes was deceived, I am not God." I asked the heavens, sun, moon, stars, "Nor (say they) are we the God whom thou seekest." And I replied unto all the things which encompass the door of my flesh: "Ye have told me of my God, that ye are not He; tell me something of Him." And they cried out with a loud voice, "He made us." My questioning them, was my thoughts on them: and their form of beauty gave the answer.

69And I turned myself unto myself, and said to myself, "Who art thou?" And I answered, "A man." And behold, in me there present themselves to me soul, and body, one without, the other within.

70By which of these ought I to seek my God?

71I had sought Him in the body from earth to heaven, so far as I could send messengers, the beams of mine eyes.

72But the better is the inner, for to it as presiding and judging, all the bodily messengers reported the answers of heaven and earth, and all things therein, who said, "We are not God, but He made us." These things did my inner man know by the ministry of the outer: I the inner knew them; I, the mind, through the senses of my body.

73I asked the whole frame of the world about my God; and it answered me, "I am not He, but He made me."

74Is not this corporeal figure apparent to all whose senses are perfect?

75why then speaks it not the same to all?

76Animals small and great see it, but they cannot ask it: because no reason is set over their senses to judge on what they report.

77But men can ask, so that the invisible things of God are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made; but by love of them, they are made subject unto them: and subjects cannot judge.

78Nor yet do the creatures answer such as ask, unless they can judge; nor yet do they change their voice (i.e., their appearance), if one man only sees, another seeing asks, so as to appear one way to this man, another way to that, but appearing the same way to both, it is dumb to this, speaks to that; yea rather it speaks to all; but they only understand, who compare its voice received from without, with the truth within.

79For truth saith unto me, "Neither heaven, nor earth, nor any other body is thy God." This, their very nature saith to him that seeth them: "They are a mass; a mass is less in a part thereof than in the whole." Now to thee I speak, O my soul, thou art my better part: for thou quickenest the mass of my body, giving it life, which no body can give to a body: but thy God is even unto thee the Life of thy life.

80What then do I love, when I love my God?

81who is He above the head of my soul?

82By my very soul will I ascend to Him.

83I will pass beyond that power whereby I am united to my body, and fill its whole frame with life.

84Nor can I by that power find my God; for so horse and mule that have no understanding might find Him; seeing it is the same power, whereby even their bodies live.

85But another power there is, not that only whereby I animate, but that too whereby I imbue with sense my flesh, which the Lord hath framed for me: commanding the eye not to hear, and the ear not to see; but the eye, that through it I should see, and the ear, that through it I should hear; and to the other senses severally, what is to each their own peculiar seats and offices; which, being divers, I the one mind, do through them enact.

86I will pass beyond this power of mine also; for this also have the horse, and mule, for they also perceive through the body.

87I will pass then beyond this power of my nature also, rising by degrees unto Him Who made me.

88And I come to the fields and spacious palaces of my memory, where are the treasures of innumerable images, brought into it from things of all sorts perceived by the senses.

89There is stored up, whatsoever besides we think, either by enlarging or diminishing, or any other way varying those things which the sense hath come to; and whatever else hath been committed and laid up, which forgetfulness hath not yet swallowed up and buried.

90When I enter there, I require what I will to be brought forth, and something instantly comes; others must be longer sought after, which are fetched, as it were, out of some inner receptacle; others rush out in troops, and while one thing is desired and required, they start forth, as who should say, "Is it perchance I?" These I drive away with the hand of my heart, from the face of my remembrance; until what I wish for be unveiled, and appear in sight, out of its secret place.

91Other things come up readily, in unbroken order, as they are called for; those in front making way for the following; and as they make way, they are hidden from sight, ready to come when I will.

92All which takes place when I repeat a thing by heart.

93There are all things preserved distinctly and under general heads, each having entered by its own avenue: as light, and all colours and forms of bodies by the eyes; by the ears all sorts of sounds; all smells by the avenue of the nostrils; all tastes by the mouth; and by the sensation of the whole body, what is hard or soft; hot or cold; or rugged; heavy or light; either outwardly or inwardly to the body.

94All these doth that great harbour of the memory receive in her numberless secret and inexpressible windings, to be forthcoming, and brought out at need; each entering in by his own gate, and there laid up.

95Nor yet do the things themselves enter in; only the images of the things perceived are there in readiness, for thought to recall.

96Which images, how they are formed, who can tell, though it doth plainly appear by which sense each hath been brought in and stored up?

97For even while I dwell in darkness and silence, in my memory I can produce colours, if I will, and discern betwixt black and white, and what others I will: nor yet do sounds break in and disturb the image drawn in by my eyes, which I am reviewing, though they also are there, lying dormant, and laid up, as it were, apart.

98For these too I call for, and forthwith they appear.

99And though my tongue be still, and my throat mute, so can I sing as much as I will; nor do those images of colours, which notwithstanding be there, intrude themselves and interrupt, when another store is called for, which flowed in by the ears.

100So the other things, piled in and up by the other senses, I recall at my pleasure.

101Yea, I discern the breath of lilies from violets, though smelling nothing; and I prefer honey to sweet wine, smooth before rugged, at the time neither tasting nor handling, but remembering only.

102These things do I within, in that vast court of my memory.

103For there are present with me, heaven, earth, sea, and whatever I could think on therein, besides what I have forgotten.

104There also meet I with myself, and recall myself, and when, where, and what I have done, and under what feelings.

105There be all which I remember, either on my own experience, or other's credit.

106Out of the same store do I myself with the past continually combine fresh and fresh likenesses of things which I have experienced, or, from what I have experienced, have believed: and thence again infer future actions, events and hopes, and all these again I reflect on, as present.

107"I will do this or that," say I to myself, in that great receptacle of my mind, stored with the images of things so many and so great, "and this or that will follow." "O that this or that might be!" "God avert this or that!" So speak I to myself: and when I speak, the images of all I speak of are present, out of the same treasury of memory; nor would I speak of any thereof, were the images wanting.

108Great is this force of memory, excessive great, O my God; a large and boundless chamber!

109who ever sounded the bottom thereof?

110yet is this a power of mine, and belongs unto my nature; nor do I myself comprehend all that I am.

111Therefore is the mind too strait to contain itself.

112And where should that be, which it containeth not of itself?

113Is it without it, and not within?

114how then doth it not comprehend itself?

115A wonderful admiration surprises me, amazement seizes me upon this.

116And men go abroad to admire the heights of mountains, the mighty billows of the sea, the broad tides of rivers, the compass of the ocean, and the circuits of the stars, and pass themselves by; nor wonder that when I spake of all these things, I did not see them with mine eyes, yet could not have spoken of them, unless I then actually saw the mountains, billows, rivers, stars which I had seen, and that ocean which I believe to be, inwardly in my memory, and that, with the same vast spaces between, as if I saw them abroad.

117Yet did not I by seeing draw them into myself, when with mine eyes I beheld them; nor are they themselves with me, but their images only.

118And I know by what sense of the body each was impressed upon me.

119Yet not these alone does the unmeasurable capacity of my memory retain.

120Here also is all, learnt of the liberal sciences and as yet unforgotten; removed as it were to some inner place, which is yet no place: nor are they the images thereof, but the things themselves.

121For, what is literature, what the art of disputing, how many kinds of questions there be, whatsoever of these I know, in such manner exists in my memory, as that I have not taken in the image, and left out the thing, or that it should have sounded and passed away like a voice fixed on the ear by that impress, whereby it might be recalled, as if it sounded, when it no longer sounded; or as a smell while it passes and evaporates into air affects the sense of smell, whence it conveys into the memory an image of itself, which remembering, we renew, or as meat, which verily in the belly hath now no taste, and yet in the memory still in a manner tasteth; or as any thing which the body by touch perceiveth, and which when removed from us, the memory still conceives.

122For those things are not transmitted into the memory, but their images only are with an admirable swiftness caught up, and stored as it were in wondrous cabinets, and thence wonderfully by the act of remembering, brought forth.

123But now when I hear that there be three kinds of questions, "Whether the thing be?

124what it is?

125of what kind it is?" I do indeed hold the images of the sounds of which those words be composed, and that those sounds, with a noise passed through the air, and now are not.

126But the things themselves which are signified by those sounds, I never reached with any sense of my body, nor ever discerned them otherwise than in my mind; yet in my memory have I laid up not their images, but themselves.

127Which how they entered into me, let them say if they can; for I have gone over all the avenues of my flesh, but cannot find by which they entered.

128For the eyes say, "If those images were coloured, we reported of them." The ears say, "If they sound, we gave knowledge of them." The nostrils say, "If they smell, they passed by us." The taste says, "Unless they have a savour, ask me not." The touch says, "If it have not size, I handled it not; if I handled it not, I gave no notice of it." Whence and how entered these things into my memory?

129I know not how.

130For when I learned them, I gave not credit to another man's mind, but recognised them in mine; and approving them for true, I commended them to it, laying them up as it were, whence I might bring them forth when I willed.

131In my heart then they were, even before I learned them, but in my memory they were not.

132Where then?

133or wherefore, when they were spoken, did I acknowledge them, and said, "So is it, it is true," unless that they were already in the memory, but so thrown back and buried as it were in deeper recesses, that had not the suggestion of another drawn them forth I had perchance been unable to conceive of them?

134Wherefore we find, that to learn these things whereof we imbibe not the images by our senses, but perceive within by themselves, without images, as they are, is nothing else, but by conception, to receive, and by marking to take heed that those things which the memory did before contain at random and unarranged, be laid up at hand as it were in that same memory where before they lay unknown, scattered and neglected, and so readily occur to the mind familiarised to them.

135And how many things of this kind does my memory bear which have been already found out, and as I said, placed as it were at hand, which we are said to have learned and come to know which were I for some short space of time to cease to call to mind, they are again so buried, and glide back, as it were, into the deeper recesses, that they must again, as if new, be thought out thence, for other abode they have none: but they must be drawn together again, that they may be known; that is to say, they must as it were be collected together from their dispersion: whence the word "cogitation" is derived.

136For cogo (collect) and cogito (re-collect) have the same relation to each other as ago and agito, facio and factito.

137But the mind hath appropriated to itself this word (cogitation), so that, not what is "collected" any how, but what is "recollected," i.e., brought together, in the mind, is properly said to be cogitated, or thought upon.

138The memory containeth also reasons and laws innumerable of numbers and dimensions, none of which hath any bodily sense impressed; seeing they have neither colour, nor sound, nor taste, nor smell, nor touch.

139I have heard the sound of the words whereby when discussed they are denoted: but the sounds are other than the things.

140For the sounds are other in Greek than in Latin; but the things are neither Greek, nor Latin, nor any other language.

141I have seen the lines of architects, the very finest, like a spider's thread; but those are still different, they are not the images of those lines which the eye of flesh showed me: he knoweth them, whosoever without any conception whatsoever of a body, recognises them within himself.

142I have perceived also the numbers of the things with which we number all the senses of my body; but those numbers wherewith we number are different, nor are they the images of these, and therefore they indeed are.

143Let him who seeth them not, deride me for saying these things, and I will pity him, while he derides me.

144All these things I remember, and how I learnt them I remember.

145Many things also most falsely objected against them have I heard, and remember; which though they be false, yet is it not false that I remember them; and I remember also that I have discerned betwixt those truths and these falsehoods objected to them.

146And I perceive that the present discerning of these things is different from remembering that I oftentimes discerned them, when I often thought upon them.

147I both remember then to have often understood these things; and what I now discern and understand, I lay up in my memory, that hereafter I may remember that I understand it now.

148So then I remember also to have remembered; as if hereafter I shall call to remembrance, that I have now been able to remember these things, by the force of memory shall I call it to remembrance.

149The same memory contains also the affections of my mind, not in the same manner that my mind itself contains them, when it feels them; but far otherwise, according to a power of its own.

150For without rejoicing I remember myself to have joyed; and without sorrow do I recollect my past sorrow.

151And that I once feared, I review without fear; and without desire call to mind a past desire.

152Sometimes, on the contrary, with joy do I remember my fore-past sorrow, and with sorrow, joy.

153Which is not wonderful, as to the body; for mind is one thing, body another.

154If I therefore with joy remember some past pain of body, it is not so wonderful.

155But now seeing this very memory itself is mind (for when we give a thing in charge, to be kept in memory, we say, "See that you keep it in mind"; and when we forget, we say, "It did not come to my mind," and, "It slipped out of my mind," calling the memory itself the mind); this being so, how is it that when with joy I remember my past sorrow, the mind hath joy, the memory hath sorrow; the mind upon the joyfulness which is in it, is joyful, yet the memory upon the sadness which is in it, is not sad?

156Does the memory perchance not belong to the mind?

157Who will say so?

158The memory then is, as it were, the belly of the mind, and joy and sadness, like sweet and bitter food; which, when committed to the memory, are as it were passed into the belly, where they may be stowed, but cannot taste.

159Ridiculous it is to imagine these to be alike; and yet are they not utterly unlike.

160But, behold, out of my memory I bring it, when I say there be four perturbations of the mind, desire, joy, fear, sorrow; and whatsoever I can dispute thereon, by dividing each into its subordinate species, and by defining it, in my memory find I what to say, and thence do I bring it: yet am I not disturbed by any of these perturbations, when by calling them to mind, I remember them; yea, and before I recalled and brought them back, they were there; and therefore could they, by recollection, thence be brought.

161Perchance, then, as meat is by chewing the cud brought up out of the belly, so by recollection these out of the memory.

162Why then does not the disputer, thus recollecting, taste in the mouth of his musing the sweetness of joy, or the bitterness of sorrow?

163Is the comparison unlike in this, because not in all respects like?

164For who would willingly speak thereof, if so oft as we name grief or fear, we should be compelled to be sad or fearful?

165And yet could we not speak of them, did we not find in our memory, not only the sounds of the names according to the images impressed by the senses of the body, but notions of the very things themselves which we never received by any avenue of the body, but which the mind itself perceiving by the experience of its own passions, committed to the memory, or the memory of itself retained, without being committed unto it.

166But whether by images or no, who can readily say?

167Thus, I name a stone, I name the sun, the things themselves not being present to my senses, but their images to my memory.

168I name a bodily pain, yet it is not present with me, when nothing aches: yet unless its image were present to my memory, I should not know what to say thereof, nor in discoursing discern pain from pleasure.

169I name bodily health; being sound in body, the thing itself is present with me; yet, unless its image also were present in my memory, I could by no means recall what the sound of this name should signify.

170Nor would the sick, when health were named, recognise what were spoken, unless the same image were by the force of memory retained, although the thing itself were absent from the body.

171I name numbers whereby we number; and not their images, but themselves are present in my memory.

172I name the image of the sun, and that image is present in my memory.

173For I recall not the image of its image, but the image itself is present to me, calling it to mind.

174I name memory, and I recognise what I name.

175And where do I recognise it, but in the memory itself?

176Is it also present to itself by its image, and not by itself?

177What, when I name forgetfulness, and withal recognise what I name?

178whence should I recognise it, did I not remember it?

179I speak not of the sound of the name, but of the thing which it signifies: which if I had forgotten, I could not recognise what that sound signifies.

180When then I remember memory, memory itself is, through itself, present with itself: but when I remember forgetfulness, there are present both memory and forgetfulness; memory whereby I remember, forgetfulness which I remember.

181But what is forgetfulness, but the privation of memory?

182How then is it present that I remember it, since when present I cannot remember?

183But if what we remember we hold it in memory, yet, unless we did remember forgetfulness, we could never at the hearing of the name recognise the thing thereby signified, then forgetfulness is retained by memory.

184Present then it is, that we forget not, and being so, we forget.

185It is to be understood from this that forgetfulness when we remember it, is not present to the memory by itself but by its image: because if it were present by itself, it would not cause us to remember, but to forget.

186Who now shall search out this?

187who shall comprehend how it is?

188Lord, I, truly, toil therein, yea and toil in myself; I am become a heavy soil requiring over much sweat of the brow.

189For we are not now searching out the regions of heaven, or measuring the distances of the stars, or enquiring the balancings of the earth.

190It is I myself who remember, I the mind.

191It is not so wonderful, if what I myself am not, be far from me.

192But what is nearer to me than myself?

193And lo, the force of mine own memory is not understood by me; though I cannot so much as name myself without it.

194For what shall I say, when it is clear to me that I remember forgetfulness?

195Shall I say that that is not in my memory, which I remember?

196or shall I say that forgetfulness is for this purpose in my memory, that I might not forget?

197Both were most absurd.

198What third way is there?

199How can I say that the image of forgetfulness is retained by my memory, not forgetfulness itself, when I remember it?

200How could I say this either, seeing that when the image of any thing is impressed on the memory, the thing itself must needs be first present, whence that image may be impressed?

201For thus do I remember Carthage, thus all places where I have been, thus men's faces whom I have seen, and things reported by the other senses; thus the health or sickness of the body.

202For when these things were present, my memory received from them images, which being present with me, I might look on and bring back in my mind, when I remembered them in their absence.

203If then this forgetfulness is retained in the memory through its image, not through itself, then plainly itself was once present, that its image might be taken.

204But when it was present, how did it write its image in the memory, seeing that forgetfulness by its presence effaces even what it finds already noted?

205And yet, in whatever way, although that way be past conceiving and explaining, yet certain am I that I remember forgetfulness itself also, whereby what we remember is effaced.

206Great is the power of memory, a fearful thing, O my God, a deep and boundless manifoldness; and this thing is the mind, and this am I myself.

207What am I then, O my God?

208What nature am I?

209A life various and manifold, and exceeding immense.

210Behold in the plains, and caves, and caverns of my memory, innumerable and innumerably full of innumerable kinds of things, either through images, as all bodies; or by actual presence, as the arts; or by certain notions or impressions, as the affections of the mind, which, even when the mind doth not feel, the memory retaineth, while yet whatsoever is in the memory is also in the mind—over all these do I run, I fly; I dive on this side and on that, as far as I can, and there is no end.

211So great is the force of memory, so great the force of life, even in the mortal life of man.

212What shall I do then, O Thou my true life, my God?

213I will pass even beyond this power of mine which is called memory: yea, I will pass beyond it, that I may approach unto Thee, O sweet Light.

214What sayest Thou to me?

215See, I am mounting up through my mind towards Thee who abidest above me.

216Yea, I now will pass beyond this power of mine which is called memory, desirous to arrive at Thee, whence Thou mayest be arrived at; and to cleave unto Thee, whence one may cleave unto Thee.

217For even beasts and birds have memory; else could they not return to their dens and nests, nor many other things they are used unto: nor indeed could they be used to any thing, but by memory.

218I will pass then beyond memory also, that I may arrive at Him who hath separated me from the four-footed beasts and made me wiser than the fowls of the air, I will pass beyond memory also, and where shall I find Thee, Thou truly good and certain sweetness?

219And where shall I find Thee?

220If I find Thee without my memory, then do I not retain Thee in my memory.

221And how shall I find Thee, if I remember Thee not?

222For the woman that had lost her groat, and sought it with a light; unless she had remembered it, she had never found it.

223For when it was found, whence should she know whether it were the same, unless she remembered it?

224I remember to have sought and found many a thing; and this I thereby know, that when I was seeking any of them, and was asked, "Is this it?" "Is that it?" so long said I "No," until that were offered me which I sought.

225Which had I not remembered (whatever it were) though it were offered me, yet should I not find it, because I could not recognise it.

226And so it ever is, when we seek and find any lost thing.

227Notwithstanding, when any thing is by chance lost from the sight, not from the memory (as any visible body), yet its image is still retained within, and it is sought until it be restored to sight; and when it is found, it is recognised by the image which is within: nor do we say that we have found what was lost, unless we recognise it; nor can we recognise it, unless we remember it.

228But this was lost to the eyes, but retained in the memory.

229But what when the memory itself loses any thing, as falls out when we forget and seek that we may recollect?

230Where in the end do we search, but in the memory itself?

231and there, if one thing be perchance offered instead of another, we reject it, until what we seek meets us; and when it doth, we say, "This is it"; which we should not unless we recognised it, nor recognise it unless we remembered it.

232Certainly then we had forgotten it.

233Or, had not the whole escaped us, but by the part whereof we had hold, was the lost part sought for; in that the memory felt that it did not carry on together all which it was wont, and maimed, as it were, by the curtailment of its ancient habit, demanded the restoration of what it missed?

234For instance, if we see or think of some one known to us, and having forgotten his name, try to recover it; whatever else occurs, connects itself not therewith; because it was not wont to be thought upon together with him, and therefore is rejected, until that present itself, whereon the knowledge reposes equably as its wonted object.

235And whence does that present itself, but out of the memory itself?

236for even when we recognise it, on being reminded by another, it is thence it comes.

237For we do not believe it as something new, but, upon recollection, allow what was named to be right.

238But were it utterly blotted out of the mind, we should not remember it, even when reminded.

239For we have not as yet utterly forgotten that, which we remember ourselves to have forgotten.

240What then we have utterly forgotten, though lost, we cannot even seek after.

241How then do I seek Thee, O Lord?

242For when I seek Thee, my God, I seek a happy life.

243I will seek Thee, that my soul may live.

244For my body liveth by my soul; and my soul by Thee.

245How then do I seek a happy life, seeing I have it not, until I can say, where I ought to say it, "It is enough"?

246How seek I it?

247By remembrance, as though I had forgotten it, remembering that I had forgotten it?

248Or, desiring to learn it as a thing unknown, either never having known, or so forgotten it, as not even to remember that I had forgotten it?

249is not a happy life what all will, and no one altogether wills it not?

250where have they known it, that they so will it?

251where seen it, that they so love it?

252Truly we have it, how, I know not.

253Yea, there is another way, wherein when one hath it, then is he happy; and there are, who are blessed, in hope.

254These have it in a lower kind, than they who have it in very deed; yet are they better off than such as are happy neither in deed nor in hope.

255Yet even these, had they it not in some sort, would not so will to be happy, which that they do will, is most certain.

256They have known it then, I know not how, and so have it by some sort of knowledge, what, I know not, and am perplexed whether it be in the memory, which if it be, then we have been happy once; whether all severally, or in that man who first sinned, in whom also we all died, and from whom we are all born with misery, I now enquire not; but only, whether the happy life be in the memory?

257For neither should we love it, did we not know it.

258We hear the name, and we all confess that we desire the thing; for we are not delighted with the mere sound.

259For when a Greek hears it in Latin, he is not delighted, not knowing what is spoken; but we Latins are delighted, as would he too, if he heard it in Greek; because the thing itself is neither Greek nor Latin, which Greeks and Latins, and men of all other tongues, long for so earnestly.

260Known therefore it is to all, for they with one voice be asked, "would they be happy?" they would answer without doubt, "they would." And this could not be, unless the thing itself whereof it is the name were retained in their memory.

261But is it so, as one remembers Carthage who hath seen it?

262No.

263For a happy life is not seen with the eye, because it is not a body.

264As we remember numbers then?

265No.

266For these, he that hath in his knowledge, seeks not further to attain unto; but a happy life we have in our knowledge, and therefore love it, and yet still desire to attain it, that we may be happy.

267As we remember eloquence then?

268No.

269For although upon hearing this name also, some call to mind the thing, who still are not yet eloquent, and many who desire to be so, whence it appears that it is in their knowledge; yet these have by their bodily senses observed others to be eloquent, and been delighted, and desire to be the like (though indeed they would not be delighted but for some inward knowledge thereof, nor wish to be the like, unless they were thus delighted); whereas a happy life, we do by no bodily sense experience in others.

270As then we remember joy?

271Perchance; for my joy I remember, even when sad, as a happy life, when unhappy; nor did I ever with bodily sense see, hear, smell, taste, or touch my joy; but I experienced it in my mind, when I rejoiced; and the knowledge of it clave to my memory, so that I can recall it with disgust sometimes, at others with longing, according to the nature of the things, wherein I remember myself to have joyed.

272For even from foul things have I been immersed in a sort of joy; which now recalling, I detest and execrate; otherwhiles in good and honest things, which I recall with longing, although perchance no longer present; and therefore with sadness I recall former joy.

273Where then and when did I experience my happy life, that I should remember, and love, and long for it?

274Nor is it I alone, or some few besides, but we all would fain be happy; which, unless by some certain knowledge we knew, we should not with so certain a will desire.

275But how is this, that if two men be asked whether they would go to the wars, one, perchance, would answer that he would, the other, that he would not; but if they were asked whether they would be happy, both would instantly without any doubting say they would; and for no other reason would the one go to the wars, and the other not, but to be happy.

276Is it perchance that as one looks for his joy in this thing, another in that, all agree in their desire of being happy, as they would (if they were asked) that they wished to have joy, and this joy they call a happy life?

277Although then one obtains this joy by one means, another by another, all have one end, which they strive to attain, namely, joy.

278Which being a thing which all must say they have experienced, it is therefore found in the memory, and recognised whenever the name of a happy life is mentioned.

279Far be it, Lord, far be it from the heart of Thy servant who here confesseth unto Thee, far be it, that, be the joy what it may, I should therefore think myself happy.

280For there is a joy which is not given to the ungodly, but to those who love Thee for Thine own sake, whose joy Thou Thyself art.

281And this is the happy life, to rejoice to Thee, of Thee, for Thee; this is it, and there is no other.

282For they who think there is another, pursue some other and not the true joy.

283Yet is not their will turned away from some semblance of joy.

284It is not certain then that all wish to be happy, inasmuch as they who wish not to joy in Thee, which is the only happy life, do not truly desire the happy life.

285Or do all men desire this, but because the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh, that they cannot do what they would, they fall upon that which they can, and are content therewith; because, what they are not able to do, they do not will so strongly as would suffice to make them able?

286For I ask any one, had he rather joy in truth, or in falsehood?

287They will as little hesitate to say "in the truth," as to say "that they desire to be happy," for a happy life is joy in the truth: for this is a joying in Thee, Who art the Truth, O God my light, health of my countenance, my God.

288This is the happy life which all desire; this life which alone is happy, all desire; to joy in the truth all desire.

289I have met with many that would deceive; who would be deceived, no one.

290Where then did they know this happy life, save where they know the truth also?

291For they love it also, since they would not be deceived.

292And when they love a happy life, which is no other than joying in the truth, then also do they love the truth; which yet they would not love, were there not some notice of it in their memory.

293Why then joy they not in it?

294why are they not happy?

295because they are more strongly taken up with other things which have more power to make them miserable, than that which they so faintly remember to make them happy.

296For there is yet a little light in men; let them walk, let them walk, that the darkness overtake them not.

297But why doth "truth generate hatred," and the man of Thine, preaching the truth, become an enemy to them?

298whereas a happy life is loved, which is nothing else but joying in the truth; unless that truth is in that kind loved, that they who love anything else would gladly have that which they love to be the truth: and because they would not be deceived, would not be convinced that they are so?

299Therefore do they hate the truth for that thing's sake which they loved instead of the truth.

300They love truth when she enlightens, they hate her when she reproves.

301For since they would not be deceived, and would deceive, they love her when she discovers herself unto them, and hate her when she discovers them.

302Whence she shall so repay them, that they who would not be made manifest by her, she both against their will makes manifest, and herself becometh not manifest unto them.

303Thus, thus, yea thus doth the mind of man, thus blind and sick, foul and ill-favoured, wish to be hidden, but that aught should be hidden from it, it wills not.

304But the contrary is requited it, that itself should not be hidden from the Truth; but the Truth is hid from it.

305Yet even thus miserable, it had rather joy in truths than in falsehoods.

306Happy then will it be, when, no distraction interposing, it shall joy in that only Truth, by Whom all things are true.

307See what a space I have gone over in my memory seeking Thee, O Lord; and I have not found Thee, without it.

308Nor have I found any thing concerning Thee, but what I have kept in memory, ever since I learnt Thee.

309For since I learnt Thee, I have not forgotten Thee.

310For where I found Truth, there found I my God, the Truth itself; which since I learnt, I have not forgotten.

311Since then I learnt Thee, Thou residest in my memory; and there do I find Thee, when I call Thee to remembrance, and delight in Thee.

312These be my holy delights, which Thou hast given me in Thy mercy, having regard to my poverty.

313But where in my memory residest Thou, O Lord, where residest Thou there?

314what manner of lodging hast Thou framed for Thee?

315what manner of sanctuary hast Thou builded for Thee?

316Thou hast given this honour to my memory, to reside in it; but in what quarter of it Thou residest, that am I considering.

317For in thinking on Thee, I passed beyond such parts of it as the beasts also have, for I found Thee not there among the images of corporeal things: and I came to those parts to which I committed the affections of my mind, nor found Thee there.

318And I entered into the very seat of my mind (which it hath in my memory, inasmuch as the mind remembers itself also), neither wert Thou there: for as Thou art not a corporeal image, nor the affection of a living being (as when we rejoice, condole, desire, fear, remember, forget, or the like); so neither art Thou the mind itself; because Thou art the Lord God of the mind; and all these are changed, but Thou remainest unchangeable over all, and yet hast vouchsafed to dwell in my memory, since I learnt Thee.

319And why seek I now in what place thereof Thou dwellest, as if there were places therein?

320Sure I am, that in it Thou dwellest, since I have remembered Thee ever since I learnt Thee, and there I find Thee, when I call Thee to remembrance.

321Where then did I find Thee, that I might learn Thee?

322For in my memory Thou wert not, before I learned Thee.

323Where then did I find Thee, that I might learn Thee, but in Thee above me?

324Place there is none; we go backward and forward, and there is no place.

325Every where, O Truth, dost Thou give audience to all who ask counsel of Thee, and at once answerest all, though on manifold matters they ask Thy counsel.

326Clearly dost Thou answer, though all do not clearly hear.

327All consult Thee on what they will, though they hear not always what they will.

328He is Thy best servant who looks not so much to hear that from Thee which himself willeth, as rather to will that, which from Thee he heareth.

329Too late loved I Thee, O Thou Beauty of ancient days, yet ever new!

330too late I loved Thee!

331And behold, Thou wert within, and I abroad, and there I searched for Thee; deformed I, plunging amid those fair forms which Thou hadst made.

332Thou wert with me, but I was not with Thee.

333Things held me far from Thee, which, unless they were in Thee, were not at all.

334Thou calledst, and shoutedst, and burstest my deafness.

335Thou flashedst, shonest, and scatteredst my blindness.

336Thou breathedst odours, and I drew in breath and panted for Thee.

337I tasted, and hunger and thirst.

338Thou touchedst me, and I burned for Thy peace.

339When I shall with my whole self cleave to Thee, I shall no where have sorrow or labour; and my life shall wholly live, as wholly full of Thee.

340But now since whom Thou fillest, Thou liftest up, because I am not full of Thee I am a burden to myself.

341Lamentable joys strive with joyous sorrows: and on which side is the victory, I know not.

342Woe is me!

343Lord, have pity on me.

344My evil sorrows strive with my good joys; and on which side is the victory, I know not.

345Woe is me!

346Lord, have pity on me.

347Woe is me!

348lo!

349I hide not my wounds; Thou art the Physician, I the sick; Thou merciful, I miserable.

350Is not the life of man upon earth all trial?

351Who wishes for troubles and difficulties?

352Thou commandest them to be endured, not to be loved.

353No man loves what he endures, though he love to endure.

354For though he rejoices that he endures, he had rather there were nothing for him to endure.

355In adversity I long for prosperity, in prosperity I fear adversity.

356What middle place is there betwixt these two, where the life of man is not all trial?

357Woe to the prosperities of the world, once and again, through fear of adversity, and corruption of joy!

358Woe to the adversities of the world, once and again, and the third time, from the longing for prosperity, and because adversity itself is a hard thing, and lest it shatter endurance.

359Is not the life of man upon earth all trial: without any interval?

360And all my hope is no where but in Thy exceeding great mercy.

361Give what Thou enjoinest, and enjoin what Thou wilt.

362Thou enjoinest us continency; and when I knew, saith one, that no man can be continent, unless God give it, this also was a part of wisdom to know whose gift she is.

363By continency verily are we bound up and brought back into One, whence we were dissipated into many.

364For too little doth he love Thee, who loves any thing with Thee, which he loveth not for Thee.

365O love, who ever burnest and never consumest!

366O charity, my God, kindle me.

367Thou enjoinest continency: give me what Thou enjoinest, and enjoin what Thou wilt.

368Verily Thou enjoinest me continency from the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the ambition of the world.

369Thou enjoinest continency from concubinage; and for wedlock itself, Thou hast counselled something better than what Thou hast permitted.

370And since Thou gavest it, it was done, even before I became a dispenser of Thy Sacrament.

371But there yet live in my memory (whereof I have much spoken) the images of such things as my ill custom there fixed; which haunt me, strengthless when I am awake: but in sleep, not only so as to give pleasure, but even to obtain assent, and what is very like reality.

372Yea, so far prevails the illusion of the image, in my soul and in my flesh, that, when asleep, false visions persuade to that which when waking, the true cannot.

373Am I not then myself, O Lord my God?

374And yet there is so much difference betwixt myself and myself, within that moment wherein I pass from waking to sleeping, or return from sleeping to waking!

375Where is reason then, which, awake, resisteth such suggestions?

376And should the things themselves be urged on it, it remaineth unshaken.

377Is it clasped up with the eyes?

378is it lulled asleep with the senses of the body?

379And whence is it that often even in sleep we resist, and mindful of our purpose, and abiding most chastely in it, yield no assent to such enticements?

380And yet so much difference there is, that when it happeneth otherwise, upon waking we return to peace of conscience: and by this very difference discover that we did not, what yet we be sorry that in some way it was done in us.

381Art Thou not mighty, God Almighty, so as to heal all the diseases of my soul, and by Thy more abundant grace to quench even the impure motions of my sleep!

382Thou wilt increase, Lord, Thy gifts more and more in me, that my soul may follow me to Thee, disentangled from the birdlime of concupiscence; that it rebel not against itself, and even in dreams not only not, through images of sense, commit those debasing corruptions, even to pollution of the flesh, but not even to consent unto them.

383For that nothing of this sort should have, over the pure affections even of a sleeper, the very least influence, not even such as a thought would restrain,—to work this, not only during life, but even at my present age, is not hard for the Almighty, Who art able to do above all that we ask or think.

384But what I yet am in this kind of my evil, have I confessed unto my good Lord; rejoicing with trembling, in that which Thou hast given me, and bemoaning that wherein I am still imperfect; hoping that Thou wilt perfect Thy mercies in me, even to perfect peace, which my outward and inward man shall have with Thee, when death shall be swallowed up in victory.

385There is another evil of the day, which I would were sufficient for it.

386For by eating and drinking we repair the daily decays of our body, until Thou destroy both belly and meat, when Thou shalt slay my emptiness with a wonderful fulness, and clothe this incorruptible with an eternal incorruption.

387But now the necessity is sweet unto me, against which sweetness I fight, that I be not taken captive; and carry on a daily war by fastings; often bringing my body into subjection; and my pains are removed by pleasure.

388For hunger and thirst are in a manner pains; they burn and kill like a fever, unless the medicine of nourishments come to our aid.

389Which since it is at hand through the consolations of Thy gifts, with which land, and water, and air serve our weakness, our calamity is termed gratification.

390This hast Thou taught me, that I should set myself to take food as physic.

391But while I am passing from the discomfort of emptiness to the content of replenishing, in the very passage the snare of concupiscence besets me.

392For that passing, is pleasure, nor is there any other way to pass thither, whither we needs must pass.

393And health being the cause of eating and drinking, there joineth itself as an attendant a dangerous pleasure, which mostly endeavours to go before it, so that I may for her sake do what I say I do, or wish to do, for health's sake.

394Nor have each the same measure; for what is enough for health, is too little for pleasure.

395And oft it is uncertain, whether it be the necessary care of the body which is yet asking for sustenance, or whether a voluptuous deceivableness of greediness is proffering its services.

396In this uncertainty the unhappy soul rejoiceth, and therein prepares an excuse to shield itself, glad that it appeareth not what sufficeth for the moderation of health, that under the cloak of health, it may disguise the matter of gratification.

397These temptations I daily endeavour to resist, and I call on Thy right hand, and to Thee do I refer my perplexities; because I have as yet no settled counsel herein.

398I hear the voice of my God commanding, Let not your hearts be overcharged with surfeiting and drunkenness.

399Drunkenness is far from me; Thou wilt have mercy, that it come not near me.

400But full feeding sometimes creepeth upon Thy servant; Thou wilt have mercy, that it may be far from me.

401For no one can be continent unless Thou give it.

402Many things Thou givest us, praying for them; and what good soever we have received before we prayed, from Thee we received it; yea to the end we might afterwards know this, did we before receive it.

403Drunkard was I never, but drunkards have I known made sober by Thee.

404From Thee then it was, that they who never were such, should not so be, as from Thee it was, that they who have been, should not ever so be; and from Thee it was, that both might know from Whom it was.

405I heard another voice of Thine, Go not after thy lusts, and from thy pleasure turn away.

406Yea by Thy favour have I heard that which I have much loved; neither if we eat, shall we abound; neither if we eat not, shall we lack; which is to say, neither shall the one make me plenteous, nor the other miserable.

407I heard also another, for I have learned in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content; I know how to abound, and how to suffer need.

408I can do all things through Christ that strengtheneth me.

409Behold a soldier of the heavenly camp, not the dust which we are.

410But remember, Lord, that we are dust, and that of dust Thou hast made man; and he was lost and is found.

411Nor could he of himself do this, because he whom I so loved, saying this through the in-breathing of Thy inspiration, was of the same dust.

412I can do all things (saith he) through Him that strengtheneth me.

413Strengthen me, that I can.

414Give what Thou enjoinest, and enjoin what Thou wilt.

415He confesses to have received, and when he glorieth, in the Lord he glorieth.

416Another have I heard begging that he might receive.

417Take from me (saith he) the desires of the belly; whence it appeareth, O my holy God, that Thou givest, when that is done which Thou commandest to be done.

418Thou hast taught me, good Father, that to the pure, all things are pure; but that it is evil unto the man that eateth with offence; and, that every creature of Thine is good, and nothing to be refused, which is received with thanksgiving; and that meat commendeth us not to God; and, that no man should judge us in meat or drink; and, that he which eateth, let him not despise him that eateth not; and let not him that eateth not, judge him that eateth.

419These things have I learned, thanks be to Thee, praise to Thee, my God, my Master, knocking at my ears, enlightening my heart; deliver me out of all temptation.

420I fear not uncleanness of meat, but the uncleanness of lusting.

421I know; that Noah was permitted to eat all kind of flesh that was good for food; that Elijah was fed with flesh; that endued with an admirable abstinence, was not polluted by feeding on living creatures, locusts.

422I know also that Esau was deceived by lusting for lentiles; and that David blamed himself for desiring a draught of water; and that our King was tempted, not concerning flesh, but bread.

423And therefore the people in the wilderness also deserved to be reproved, not for desiring flesh, but because, in the desire of food, they murmured against the Lord.

424Placed then amid these temptations, I strive daily against concupiscence in eating and drinking.

425For it is not of such nature that I can settle on cutting it off once for all, and never touching it afterward, as I could of concubinage.

426The bridle of the throat then is to be held attempered between slackness and stiffness.

427And who is he, O Lord, who is not some whit transported beyond the limits of necessity?

428whoever he is, he is a great one; let him make Thy Name great.

429But I am not such, for I am a sinful man.

430Yet 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.

431With the allurements of smells, I am not much concerned.

432When absent, I do not miss them; when present, I do not refuse them; yet ever ready to be without them.

433So I seem to myself; perchance I am deceived.

434For 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.

435And 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.

436Our only hope, only confidence, only assured promise is Thy mercy.

437The delights of the ear had more firmly entangled and subdued me; but Thou didst loosen and free me.

438Now, 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.

439But 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.

440For 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.

441But 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.

442Thus in these things I unawares sin, but afterwards am aware of it.

443At 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.

444Yet 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.

445Thus 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.

446Yet 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.

447See now my state; weep with me, and weep for me, ye, whoso regulate your feelings within, as that good action ensues.

448For you who do not act, these things touch not you.

449But 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.

450There 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.

451The eyes love fair and varied forms, and bright and soft colours.

452Let not these occupy my soul; let God rather occupy it, who made these things, very good indeed, yet is He my good, not they.

453And 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.

454For 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.

455And 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.

456O 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.

457Or 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.

458Or 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.

459This is the light, it is one, and all are one, who see and love it.

460But that corporeal light whereof I spake, it seasoneth the life of this world for her blind lovers, with an enticing and dangerous sweetness.

461But 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.

462Such would I be.

463These 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.

464Thou dost ever and anon pluck them out, for they are ensnared.

465Thou 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.

466What 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!

467But 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.

468But the framers and followers of the outward beauties derive thence the rule of judging of them, but not of using them.

469And 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.

470And 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.

471For 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.

472To this is added another form of temptation more manifoldly dangerous.

473For 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.

474The 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.

475For, to see, belongeth properly to the eyes; yet we use this word of the other senses also, when we employ them in seeking knowledge.

476For 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.

477And 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.

478And 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.

479But 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.

480For what pleasure hath it, to see in a mangled carcase what will make you shudder?

481and yet if it be lying near, they flock thither, to be made sad, and to turn pale.

482Even in sleep they are afraid to see it.

483As if when awake, any one forced them to see it, or any report of its beauty drew them thither!

484Thus also in the other senses, which it were long to go through.

485From this disease of curiosity are all those strange sights exhibited in the theatre.

486Hence 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.

487Hence also, if with that same end of perverted knowledge magical arts be enquired by.

488Hence 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.

489In 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.

490And 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?

491True, 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.

492From 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!

493But 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.

494But when I pray Thee for the salvation of any, my end and intention is far different.

495Thou givest and wilt give me to follow Thee willingly, doing what Thou wilt.

496Notwithstanding, in how many most petty and contemptible things is our curiosity daily tempted, and how often we give way, who can recount?

497How 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!

498I go not now to the circus to see a dog coursing a hare; but in the field, if passing, that coursing peradventure will distract me even from some weighty thought, and draw me after it: not that I turn aside the body of my beast, yet still incline my mind thither.

499And unless Thou, having made me see my infirmity didst speedily admonish me either through the sight itself by some contemplation to rise towards Thee, or altogether to despise and pass it by, I dully stand fixed therein.

500What, when sitting at home, a lizard catching flies, or a spider entangling them rushing into her nets, oft-times takes my attention?

501Is the thing different, because they are but small creatures?

502I go on from them to praise Thee the wonderful Creator and Orderer of all, but this does not first draw my attention.

503It is one thing to rise quickly, another not to fall.

504And of such things is my life full; and my one hope is Thy wonderful great mercy.

505For when our heart becomes the receptacle of such things, and is overcharged with throngs of this abundant vanity, then are our prayers also thereby often interrupted and distracted, and whilst in Thy presence we direct the voice of our heart to Thine ears, this so great concern is broken off by the rushing in of I know not what idle thoughts.

506Shall we then account this also among things of slight concernment, or shall aught bring us back to hope, save Thy complete mercy, since Thou hast begun to change us?

507And Thou knowest how far Thou hast already changed me, who first healedst me of the lust of vindicating myself, that so Thou mightest forgive all the rest of my iniquities, and heal all my infirmities, and redeem life from corruption, and crown me with mercy and pity, and satisfy my desire with good things: who didst curb my pride with Thy fear, and tame my neck to Thy yoke.

508And now I bear it and it is light unto me, because so hast Thou promised, and hast made it; and verily so it was, and I knew it not, when I feared to take it.

509But, O Lord, Thou alone Lord without pride, because Thou art the only true Lord, who hast no lord; hath this third kind of temptation also ceased from me, or can it cease through this whole life?

510To wish, namely, to be feared and loved of men, for no other end, but that we may have a joy therein which is no joy?

511A miserable life this and a foul boastfulness!

512Hence especially it comes that men do neither purely love nor fear Thee.

513And therefore dost Thou resist the proud, and givest grace to the humble: yea, Thou thunderest down upon the ambitions of the world, and the foundations of the mountains tremble.

514Because now certain offices of human society make it necessary to be loved and feared of men, the adversary of our true blessedness layeth hard at us, every where spreading his snares of "well-done, well-done"; that greedily catching at them, we may be taken unawares, and sever our joy from Thy truth, and set it in the deceivingness of men; and be pleased at being loved and feared, not for Thy sake, but in Thy stead: and thus having been made like him, he may have them for his own, not in the bands of charity, but in the bonds of punishment: who purposed to set his throne in the north, that dark and chilled they might serve him, pervertedly and crookedly imitating Thee.

515But we, O Lord, behold we are Thy little flock; possess us as Thine, stretch Thy wings over us, and let us fly under them.

516Be Thou our glory; let us be loved for Thee, and Thy word feared in us.

517Who would be praised of men when Thou blamest, will not be defended of men when Thou judgest; nor delivered when Thou condemnest.

518But when—not the sinner is praised in the desires of his soul, nor he blessed who doth ungodlily, but—a man is praised for some gift which Thou hast given him, and he rejoices more at the praise for himself than that he hath the gift for which he is praised, he also is praised, while Thou dispraisest; better is he who praised than he who is praised.

519For the one took pleasure in the gift of God in man; the other was better pleased with the gift of man, than of God.

520By these temptations we are assailed daily, O Lord; without ceasing are we assailed.

521Our daily furnace is the tongue of men.

522And in this way also Thou commandest us continence.

523Give what Thou enjoinest, and enjoin what Thou wilt.

524Thou knowest on this matter the groans of my heart, and the floods of mine eyes.

525For I cannot learn how far I am more cleansed from this plague, and I much fear my secret sins, which Thine eyes know, mine do not.

526For in other kinds of temptations I have some sort of means of examining myself; in this, scarce any.

527For, in refraining my mind from the pleasures of the flesh and idle curiosity, I see how much I have attained to, when I do without them; foregoing, or not having them.

528For then I ask myself how much more or less troublesome it is to me not to have them?

529Then, riches, which are desired, that they may serve to some one or two or all of the three concupiscences, if the soul cannot discern whether, when it hath them, it despiseth them, they may be cast aside, that so it may prove itself.

530But to be without praise, and therein essay our powers, must we live ill, yea so abandonedly and atrociously, that no one should know without detesting us?

531What greater madness can be said or thought of?

532But if praise useth and ought to accompany a good life and good works, we ought as little to forego its company, as good life itself.

533Yet I know not whether I can well or ill be without anything, unless it be absent.

534What then do I confess unto Thee in this kind of temptation, O Lord?

535What, but that I am delighted with praise, but with truth itself, more than with praise?

536For were it proposed to me, whether I would, being frenzied in error on all things, be praised by all men, or being consistent and most settled in the truth be blamed by all, I see which I should choose.

537Yet fain would I that the approbation of another should not even increase my joy for any good in me.

538Yet I own, it doth increase it, and not so only, but dispraise doth diminish it.

539And when I am troubled at this my misery, an excuse occurs to me, which of what value it is, Thou God knowest, for it leaves me uncertain.

540For since Thou hast commanded us not continency alone, that is, from what things to refrain our love, but righteousness also, that is, whereon to bestow it, and hast willed us to love not Thee only, but our neighbour also; often, when pleased with intelligent praise, I seem to myself to be pleased with the proficiency or towardliness of my neighbour, or to be grieved for evil in him, when I hear him dispraise either what he understands not, or is good.

541For sometimes I am grieved at my own praise, either when those things be praised in me, in which I mislike myself, or even lesser and slight goods are more esteemed than they ought.

542But again how know I whether I am therefore thus affected, because I would not have him who praiseth me differ from me about myself; not as being influenced by concern for him, but because those same good things which please me in myself, please me more when they please another also?

543For some how I am not praised when my judgment of myself is not praised; forasmuch as either those things are praised, which displease me; or those more, which please me less.

544Am I then doubtful of myself in this matter?

545Behold, in Thee, O Truth, I see that I ought not to be moved at my own praises, for my own sake, but for the good of my neighbour.

546And whether it be so with me, I know not.

547For herein I know less of myself than of Thee.

548I beseech now, O my God, discover to me myself also, that I may confess unto my brethren, who are to pray for me, wherein I find myself maimed.

549Let me examine myself again more diligently.

550If in my praise I am moved with the good of my neighbour, why am I less moved if another be unjustly dispraised than if it be myself?

551Why am I more stung by reproach cast upon myself, than at that cast upon another, with the same injustice, before me?

552Know I not this also?

553or is it at last that I deceive myself, and do not the truth before Thee in my heart and tongue?

554This madness put far from me, O Lord, lest mine own mouth be to me the sinner's oil to make fat my head.

555I am poor and needy; yet best, while in hidden groanings I displease myself, and seek Thy mercy, until what is lacking in my defective state be renewed and perfected, on to that peace which the eye of the proud knoweth not.

556Yet the word which cometh out of the mouth, and deeds known to men, bring with them a most dangerous temptation through the love of praise: which, to establish a certain excellency of our own, solicits and collects men's suffrages.

557It tempts, even when it is reproved by myself in myself, on the very ground that it is reproved; and often glories more vainly of the very contempt of vain-glory; and so it is no longer contempt of vain-glory, whereof it glories; for it doth not contemn when it glorieth.

558Within also, within is another evil, arising out of a like temptation; whereby men become vain, pleasing themselves in themselves, though they please not, or displease or care not to please others.

559But pleasing themselves, they much displease Thee, not only taking pleasure in things not good, as if good, but in Thy good things, as though their own; or even if as Thine, yet as though for their own merits; or even if as though from Thy grace, yet not with brotherly rejoicing, but envying that grace to others.

560In all these and the like perils and travails, Thou seest the trembling of my heart; and I rather feel my wounds to be cured by Thee, than not inflicted by me.

561Where hast Thou not walked with me, O Truth, teaching me what to beware, and what to desire; when I referred to Thee what I could discover here below, and consulted Thee?

562With my outward senses, as I might, I surveyed the world, and observed the life, which my body hath from me, and these my senses.

563Thence entered I the recesses of my memory, those manifold and spacious chambers, wonderfully furnished with innumerable stores; and I considered, and stood aghast; being able to discern nothing of these things without Thee, and finding none of them to be Thee.

564Nor was I myself, who found out these things, who went over them all, and laboured to distinguish and to value every thing according to its dignity, taking some things upon the report of my senses, questioning about others which I felt to be mingled with myself, numbering and distinguishing the reporters themselves, and in the large treasure-house of my memory revolving some things, storing up others, drawing out others.

565Nor yet was I myself when I did this, i.e., that my power whereby I did it, neither was it Thou, for Thou art the abiding light, which I consulted concerning all these, whether they were, what they were, and how to be valued; and I heard Thee directing and commanding me; and this I often do, this delights me, and as far as I may be freed from necessary duties, unto this pleasure have I recourse.

566Nor in all these which I run over consulting Thee can I find any safe place for my soul, but in Thee; whither my scattered members may be gathered, and nothing of me depart from Thee.

567And sometimes Thou admittest me to an affection, very unusual, in my inmost soul; rising to a strange sweetness, which if it were perfected in me, I know not what in it would not belong to the life to come.

568But through my miserable encumbrances I sink down again into these lower things, and am swept back by former custom, and am held, and greatly weep, but am greatly held.

569So much doth the burden of a bad custom weigh us down.

570Here I can stay, but would not; there I would, but cannot; both ways, miserable.

571Thus then have I considered the sicknesses of my sins in that threefold concupiscence, and have called Thy right hand to my help.

572For with a wounded heart have I beheld Thy brightness, and stricken back I said, "Who can attain thither?

573I am cast away from the sight of Thine eyes." Thou art the Truth who presidest over all, but I through my covetousness would not indeed forego Thee, but would with Thee possess a lie; as no man would in such wise speak falsely, as himself to be ignorant of the truth.

574So then I lost Thee, because Thou vouchsafest not to be possessed with a lie.

575Whom could I find to reconcile me to Thee?

576was I to have recourse to Angels?

577by what prayers?

578by what sacraments?

579Many endeavouring to return unto Thee, and of themselves unable, have, as I hear, tried this, and fallen into the desire of curious visions, and been accounted worthy to be deluded.

580For they, being high minded, sought Thee by the pride of learning, swelling out rather than smiting upon their breasts, and so by the agreement of their heart, drew unto themselves the princes of the air, the fellow-conspirators of their pride, by whom, through magical influences, they were deceived, seeking a mediator, by whom they might be purged, and there was none.

581For the devil it was, transforming himself into an Angel of light.

582And it much enticed proud flesh, that he had no body of flesh.

583For they were mortal, and sinners; but thou, Lord, to whom they proudly sought to be reconciled, art immortal, and without sin.

584But a mediator between God and man must have something like to God, something like to men; lest being in both like to man, he should be far from God: or if in both like God, too unlike man: and so not be a mediator.

585That deceitful mediator then, by whom in Thy secret judgments pride deserved to be deluded, hath one thing in common with man, that is sin; another he would seem to have in common with God; and not being clothed with the mortality of flesh, would vaunt himself to be immortal.

586But since the wages of sin is death, this hath he in common with men, that with them he should be condemned to death.

587But the true Mediator, Whom in Thy secret mercy Thou hast showed to the humble, and sentest, that by His example also they might learn that same humility, that Mediator between God and man, the Man Christ Jesus, appeared betwixt mortal sinners and the immortal just One; mortal with men, just with God: that because the wages of righteousness is life and peace, He might by a righteousness conjoined with God make void that death of sinners, now made righteous, which He willed to have in common with them.

588Hence He was showed forth to holy men of old; that so they, through faith in His Passion to come, as we through faith of it passed, might be saved.

589For as Man, He was a Mediator; but as the Word, not in the middle between God and man, because equal to God, and God with God, and together one God.

590How hast Thou loved us, good Father, who sparedst not Thine only Son, but deliveredst Him up for us ungodly!

591How hast Thou loved us, for whom He that thought it no robbery to be equal with Thee, was made subject even to the death of the cross, He alone, free among the dead, having power to lay down His life, and power to take it again: for us to Thee both Victor and Victim, and therefore Victor, because the Victim; for us to Thee Priest and Sacrifice, and therefore Priest because the Sacrifice; making us to Thee, of servants, sons by being born of Thee, and serving us.

592Well then is my hope strong in Him, that Thou wilt heal all my infirmities, by Him Who sitteth at Thy right hand and maketh intercession for us; else should I despair.

593For many and great are my infirmities, many they are, and great; but Thy medicine is mightier.

594We might imagine that Thy Word was far from any union with man, and despair of ourselves, unless He had been made flesh and dwelt among us.

595Affrighted with my sins and the burden of my misery, I had cast in my heart, and had purposed to flee to the wilderness: but Thou forbadest me, and strengthenedst me, saying, Therefore Christ died for all, that they which live may now no longer live unto themselves, but unto Him that died for them.

596See, Lord, I cast my care upon Thee, that I may live, and consider wondrous things out of Thy law.

597Thou knowest my unskilfulness, and my infirmities; teach me, and heal me.

598He, Thine only Son, in Whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, hath redeemed me with His blood.

599Let not the proud speak evil of me; because I meditate on my ransom, and eat and drink, and communicate it; and poor, desired to be satisfied from Him, amongst those that eat and are satisfied, and they shall praise the Lord who seek Him.

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