(Augustine, Confessions. part 16)
motive than to be happy. Is it, perhaps, that one finds his joy
in this and another in that? Thus they agree in their wish for
happiness just as they would also agree, if asked, in wishing for
joy. Is this joy what they call a happy life? Although one could
choose his joy in this way and another in that, all have one goal
which they strive to attain, namely, to have joy. This joy, then,
being something that no one can say he has not experienced, is
therefore found in the memory and it is recognized whenever the
phrase "a happy life" is heard.
CHAPTER XXII
32. Forbid it, O Lord, put it far from the heart of thy
servant, who confesses to thee -- far be it from me to think I am
happy because of any and all the joy I have. For there is a joy
not granted to the wicked but only to those who worship thee
thankfully -- and this joy thou thyself art. The happy life is
this -- to rejoice to thee, in thee, and for thee. This it is and
there is no other. But those who think there is another follow
after other joys, and not the true one. But their will is still
not moved except by some image or shadow of joy.
CHAPTER XXIII
33. Is it, then, uncertain that all men wish to be happy,
since those who do not wish to find their joy in thee -- which is
alone the happy life -- do not actually desire the happy life?
Or, is it rather that all desire this, but because "the flesh
lusts against the spirit and the spirit against the flesh," so
that they "prevent you from doing what you would,"[342] you fall
to doing what you are able to do and are content with that. For
you do not want to do what you cannot do urgently enough to make
you able to do it.
Now I ask all men whether they would rather rejoice in truth
or in falsehood. They will no more hesitate to answer, "In
truth," than to say that they wish to be happy. For a happy life
is joy in the truth. Yet this is joy in thee, who art the Truth,
O God my Light, "the health of my countenance and my God."[343]
All wish for this happy life; all wish for this life which is the
only happy one: joy in the truth is what all men wish.
I have had experience with many who wished to deceive, but
not one who wished to be deceived.[344] Where, then, did they
ever know about this happy life, except where they knew also what
the truth is? For they love it, too, since they are not willing
to be deceived. And when they love the happy life, which is
nothing else but joy in the truth, then certainly they also love
the truth. And yet they would not love it if there were not some
knowledge of it in the memory.
Why, then, do they not rejoice in it? Why are they not
happy? Because they are so fully preoccupied with other things
which do more to make them miserable than those which would make
them happy, which they remember so little about. Yet there is a
little light in men. Let them walk -- let them walk in it, lest
the darkness overtake them.
34. Why, then, does truth generate hatred, and why does thy
servant who preaches the truth come to be an enemy to them who
also love the happy life, which is nothing else than joy in the
truth -- unless it be that truth is loved in such a way that those
who love something else besides her wish that to be the truth
which they do love. Since they are unwilling to be deceived, they
are unwilling to be convinced that they have been deceived.
Therefore, they hate the truth for the sake of whatever it is that
they love in place of the truth. They love truth when she shines
on them; and hate her when she rebukes them. And since they are
not willing to be deceived, but do wish to deceive, they love
truth when she reveals herself and hate her when she reveals them.
On this account, she will so repay them that those who are
unwilling to be exposed by her she will indeed expose against
their will, and yet will not disclose herself to them.
Thus, thus, truly thus: the human mind so blind and sick, so
base and ill-mannered, desires to lie hidden, but does not wish
that anything should be hidden from it. And yet the opposite is
what happens -- the mind itself is not hidden from the truth, but
the truth is hidden from it. Yet even so, for all its
wretchedness, it still prefers to rejoice in truth rather than in
known falsehoods. It will, then, be happy only when without other
distractions it comes to rejoice in that single Truth through
which all things else are true.
CHAPTER XXIV
35. Behold how great a territory I have explored in my
memory seeking thee, O Lord! And in it all I have still not found
thee. Nor have I found anything about thee, except what I had
already retained in my memory from the time I learned of thee.
For where I found Truth, there found I my God, who is the Truth.
>From the time I learned this I have not forgotten. And thus since
the time I learned of thee, thou hast dwelt in my memory, and it
is there that I find thee whenever I call thee to remembrance, and
delight in thee. These are my holy delights, which thou hast
bestowed on me in thy mercy, mindful of my poverty.
CHAPTER XXV
36. But where in my memory dost thou abide, O Lord? Where
dost thou dwell there? What sort of lodging hast thou made for
thyself there? What kind of sanctuary hast thou built for
thyself? Thou hast done this honor to my memory to take up thy
abode in it, but I must consider further in what part of it thou
dost abide. For in calling thee to mind, I soared beyond those
parts of memory which the beasts also possess, because I did not
find thee there among the images of corporeal things. From there
I went on to those parts where I had stored the remembered
affections of my mind, and I did not find thee there. And I
entered into the inmost seat of my mind, which is in my memory,
since the mind remembers itself also -- and thou wast not there.
For just as thou art not a bodily image, nor the emotion of a
living creature (such as we feel when we rejoice or are grief-
stricken, when we desire, or fear, or remember, or forget, or
anything of that kind), so neither art thou the mind itself. For
thou art the Lord God of the mind and of all these things that are
mutable; but thou abidest immutable over all. Yet thou hast
elected to dwell in my memory from the time I learned of thee.
But why do I now inquire about the part of my memory thou dost
dwell in, as if indeed there were separate parts in it?
Assuredly, thou dwellest in it, since I have remembered thee from
the time I learned of thee, and I find thee in my memory when I
call thee to mind.
CHAPTER XXVI
37. Where, then, did I find thee so as to be able to learn
of thee? For thou wast not in my memory before I learned of thee.
Where, then, did I find thee so as to be able to learn of thee --
save in thyself beyond me.[345] Place there is none. We go
"backward" and "forward" and there is no place. Everywhere and at
once, O Truth, thou guidest all who consult thee, and
simultaneously answerest all even though they consult thee on
quite different things. Thou answerest clearly, though all do not
hear in clarity. All take counsel of thee on whatever point they
wish, though they do not always hear what they wish. He is thy
best servant who does not look to hear from thee what he himself
wills, but who wills rather to will what he hears from thee.
CHAPTER XXVII
38. Belatedly I loved thee, O Beauty so ancient and so new,
belatedly I loved thee. For see, thou wast within and I was
without, and I sought thee out there. Unlovely, I rushed
heedlessly among the lovely things thou hast made. Thou wast with
me, but I was not with thee. These things kept me far from thee;
even though they were not at all unless they were in thee. Thou
didst call and cry aloud, and didst force open my deafness. Thou
didst gleam and shine, and didst chase away my blindness. Thou
didst breathe fragrant odors and I drew in my breath; and now I
pant for thee. I tasted, and now I hunger and thirst. Thou didst
touch me, and I burned for thy peace.
CHAPTER XXVIII
39. When I come to be united to thee with all my being, then
there will be no more pain and toil for me, and my life shall be a
real life, being wholly filled by thee. But since he whom thou
fillest is the one thou liftest up, I am still a burden to myself
because I am not yet filled by thee. Joys of sorrow contend with
sorrows of joy, and on which side the victory lies I do not know.
Woe is me! Lord, have pity on me; my evil sorrows contend
with my good joys, and on which side the victory lies I do not
know. Woe is me! Lord, have pity on me. Woe is me! Behold, I
do not hide my wounds. Thou art the Physician, I am the sick man;
thou art merciful, I need mercy. Is not the life of man on earth
an ordeal? Who is he that wishes for vexations and difficulties?
Thou commandest them to be endured, not to be loved. For no man
loves what he endures, though he may love to endure. Yet even if
he rejoices to endure, he would prefer that there were nothing for
him to endure. In adversity, I desire prosperity; in prosperity,
I fear adversity. What middle place is there, then, between these
two, where human life is not an ordeal? There is woe in the
prosperity of this world; there is woe in the fear of misfortune;
there is woe in the distortion of joy. There is woe in the
adversities of this world -- a second woe, and a third, from the
desire of prosperity -- because adversity itself is a hard thing
to bear and makes shipwreck of endurance. Is not the life of man
upon the earth an ordeal, and that without surcease?
CHAPTER XXIX
40. My whole hope is in thy exceeding great mercy and that
alone. Give what thou commandest and command what thou wilt.
Thou commandest continence from us, and when I knew, as it is
said, that no one could be continent unless God gave it to him,
even this was a point of wisdom to know whose gift it was.[346]
For by continence we are bound up and brought back together in the
One, whereas before we were scattered abroad among the many.[347]
For he loves thee too little who loves along with thee anything
else that he does not love for thy sake, O Love, who dost burn
forever and art never quenched. O Love, O my God, enkindle me!
Thou commandest continence; give what thou commandest, and command
what thou wilt.
CHAPTER XXX
41. Obviously thou commandest that I should be continent
from "the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the
pride of life."[348] Thou commandest me to abstain from
fornication, and as for marriage itself, thou hast counseled
something better than what thou dost allow. And since thou gavest
it, it was done -- even before I became a minister of thy
sacrament. But there still exist in my memory -- of which I have
spoken so much -- the images of such things as my habits had fixed
there. These things rush into my thoughts with no power when I am
awake; but in sleep they rush in not only so as to give pleasure,
but even to obtain consent and what very closely resembles the
deed itself. Indeed, the illusion of the image prevails to such
an extent, in both my soul and my flesh, that the illusion
persuades me when sleeping to what the reality cannot do when I am
awake. Am I not myself at such a time, O Lord my God? And is
there so much of a difference between myself awake and myself in
the moment when I pass from waking to sleeping, or return from
sleeping to waking?
Where, then, is the power of reason which resists such
suggestions when I am awake -- for even if the things themselves
be forced upon it I remain unmoved? Does reason cease when the
eyes close? Is it put to sleep with the bodily senses? But in
that case how does it come to pass that even in slumber we often
resist, and with our conscious purposes in mind, continue most
chastely in them, and yield no assent to such allurements? Yet
there is at least this much difference: that when it happens
otherwise in dreams, when we wake up, we return to peace of
conscience. And it is by this difference between sleeping and
waking that we discover that it was not we who did it, while we
still feel sorry that in some way it was done in us.
42. Is not thy hand, O Almighty God, able to heal all the
diseases of my soul and, by thy more and more abundant grace, to
quench even the lascivious motions of my sleep? Thou wilt
increase thy gifts in me more and more, O Lord, that my soul may
follow me to thee, wrenched free from the sticky glue of lust so
that it is no longer in rebellion against itself, even in dreams;
that it neither commits nor consents to these debasing corruptions
which come through sensual images and which result in the
pollution of the flesh. For it is no great thing for the
Almighty, who is "able to do . . . more than we can ask or
think,"[349] to bring it about that no such influence -- not even
one so slight that a nod might restrain it -- should afford
gratification to the feelings of a chaste person even when
sleeping. This could come to pass not only in this life but even
at my present age. But what I am still in this way of wickedness
I have confessed unto my good Lord, rejoicing with trembling in
what thou hast given me and grieving in myself for that in which I
am still imperfect. I am trusting that thou wilt perfect thy
mercies in me, to the fullness of that peace which both my inner
and outward being shall have with thee when death is swallowed up
in victory.[350]
CHAPTER XXXI
43. There is yet another "evil of the day"[351] to which I
wish I were sufficient. By eating and drinking we restore the
daily losses of the body until that day when thou destroyest both
food and stomach, when thou wilt destroy this emptiness with an
amazing fullness and wilt clothe this corruptible with an eternal
incorruption. But now the necessity of habit is sweet to me, and
against this sweetness must I fight, lest I be enthralled by it.
Thus I carry on a daily war by fasting, constantly "bringing my
body into subjection,"[352] after which my pains are banished by
pleasure. For hunger and thirst are actual pain. They consume
and destroy like fever does, unless the medicine of food is at
hand to relieve us. And since this medicine at hand comes from
the comfort we receive in thy gifts (by means of which land and
water and air serve our infirmity), even our calamity is called
pleasure.
44. This much thou hast taught me: that I should learn to
take food as medicine. But during that time when I pass from the
pinch of emptiness to the contentment of fullness, it is in that
very moment that the snare of appetite lies baited for me. For
the passage itself is pleasant; there is no other way of passing
thither, and necessity compels us to pass. And while health is
the reason for our eating and drinking, yet a perilous delight
joins itself to them as a handmaid; and indeed, she tries to take
precedence in order that I may want to do for her sake what I say
I want to do for health's sake. They do not both have the same
limit either. What is sufficient for health is not enough for
pleasure. And it is often a matter of doubt whether it is the
needful care of the body that still calls for food or whether it
is the sensual snare of desire still wanting to be served. In
this uncertainty my unhappy soul rejoices, and uses it to prepare
an excuse as a defense. It is glad that it is not clear as to
what is sufficient for the moderation of health, so that under the
pretense of health it may conceal its projects for pleasure.
These temptations I daily endeavor to resist and I summon thy
right hand to my help and cast my perplexities onto thee, for I
have not yet reached a firm conclusion in this matter.
45. I hear the voice of my God commanding: "Let not your
heart be overcharged with surfeiting and drunkenness."[353]
Drunkenness is far from me. Thou wilt have mercy that it does not
come near me. But "surfeiting" sometimes creeps upon thy servant.
Thou wilt have mercy that it may be put far from me. For no man
can be continent unless thou give it.[354] Many things that we
pray for thou givest us, and whatever good we receive before we
prayed for it, we receive it from thee, so that we might afterward
know that we did receive it from thee. I never was a drunkard,
but I have known drunkards made into sober men by thee. It was
also thy doing that those who never were drunkards have not been
-- and likewise, it was from thee that those who have been might
not remain so always. And it was likewise from thee that both
might know from whom all this came.
I heard another voice of thine: "Do not follow your lusts and
refrain yourself from your pleasures."[355] And by thy favor I
have also heard this saying in which I have taken much delight:
"Neither if we eat are we the better; nor if we eat not are we the
worse."[356] This is to say that neither shall the one make me to
abound, nor the other to be wretched. I heard still another
voice: "For I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to
be content. I know how to be abased and I know how to abound. . .
. I can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth me."[357]
See here a soldier of the heavenly army; not the sort of dust we
are. But remember, O Lord, "that we are dust"[358] and that thou
didst create man out of the dust,[359] and that he "was lost, and
is found."[360] Of course, he [the apostle Paul] could not do all
this by his own power. He was of the same dust -- he whom I loved
so much and who spoke of these things through the afflatus of thy
inspiration: "I can," he said, "do all things through him who
strengtheneth me." Strengthen me, that I too may be able. Give
what thou commandest, and command what thou wilt. This man [Paul]
confesses that he received the gift of grace and that, when he
glories, he glories in the Lord. I have heard yet another voice
praying that he might receive. "Take from me," he said, "the
greediness of the belly."[361] And from this it appears, O my
holy God, that thou dost give it, when what thou commandest to be
done is done.
46. Thou hast taught me, good Father, that "to the pure all
things are pure"[362]; but "it is evil for that man who gives
offense in eating"[363]; and that "every creature of thine is
good, and nothing is to be refused if it is received with
thanksgiving"[364]; and that "meat does not commend us to
God"[365]; and that "no man should judge us in meat or in
drink."[366] "Let not him who eats despise him who eats not, and
let him that does not eat judge not him who does eat."[367] These
things I have learned, thanks and praise be to thee, O my God and
Master, who knockest at my ears and enlightenest my heart.
Deliver me from all temptation!
It is not the uncleanness of meat that I fear, but the
uncleanness of an incontinent appetite. I know that permission
was granted Noah to eat every kind of flesh that was good for
food; that Elijah was fed with flesh; that John, blessed with a
wonderful abstinence, was not polluted by the living creatures
(that is, the locusts) on which he fed. And I also know that Esau
was deceived by his hungering after lentils and that David blamed
himself for desiring water, and that our King was tempted not by
flesh but by bread. And, thus, the people in the wilderness truly
deserved their reproof, not because they desired meat, but because
in their desire for food they murmured against the Lord.
47. Set down, then, in the midst of these temptations, I
strive daily against my appetite for food and drink. For it is
not the kind of appetite I am able to deal with by cutting it off
once for all, and thereafter not touching it, as I was able to do
with fornication. The bridle of the throat, therefore, must be
held in the mean between slackness and tightness. And who, O
Lord, is he who is not in some degree carried away beyond the
bounds of necessity? Whoever he is, he is great; let him magnify
thy name. But I am not such a one, "for I am a sinful man."[368]
Yet I too magnify thy name, for he who hath "overcome the
world"[369] intercedeth with thee for my sins, numbering me among
the weak members of his body; for thy eyes did see what was
imperfect in him, and in thy book all shall be written down.[370]
CHAPTER XXXII
48. I am not much troubled by the allurement of odors. When
they are absent, I do not seek them; when they are present, I do
not refuse them; and I am always prepared to go without them. At
any rate, I appear thus to myself; it is quite possible that I am
deceived. For there is a lamentable darkness in which my
capabilities are concealed, so that when my mind inquires into
itself concerning its own powers, it does not readily venture to
believe itself, because what already is in it is largely concealed
unless experience brings it to light. Thus no man ought to feel
secure in this life, the whole of which is called an ordeal,
ordered so that the man who could be made better from having been
worse may not also from having been better become worse. Our sole
hope, our sole confidence, our only assured promise, is thy mercy.
CHAPTER XXXIII
49. The delights of the ear drew and held me much more
powerfully, but thou didst unbind and liberate me. In those
melodies which thy words inspire when sung with a sweet and
trained voice, I still find repose; yet not so as to cling to
them, but always so as to be able to free myself as I wish. But
it is because of the words which are their life that they gain
entry into me and strive for a place of proper honor in my heart;
and I can hardly assign them a fitting one. Sometimes, I seem to
myself to give them more respect than is fitting, when I see that
our minds are more devoutly and earnestly inflamed in piety by the
holy words when they are sung than when they are not. And I
recognize that all the diverse affections of our spirits have
their appropriate measures in the voice and song, to which they
are stimulated by I know not what secret correlation. But the
pleasures of my flesh -- to which the mind ought never to be
surrendered nor by them enervated -- often beguile me while
physical sense does not attend on reason, to follow her patiently,
but having once gained entry to help the reason, it strives to run
on before her and be her leader. Thus in these things I sin
unknowingly, but I come to know it afterward.
50. On the other hand, when I avoid very earnestly this kind
of deception, I err out of too great austerity. Sometimes I go to
the point of wishing that all the melodies of the pleasant songs
to which David's Psalter is adapted should be banished both from
my ears and from those of the Church itself. In this mood, the
safer way seemed to me the one I remember was once related to me
concerning Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, who required the
readers of the psalm to use so slight an inflection of the voice
that it was more like speaking than singing.
However, when I call to mind the tears I shed at the songs of
thy Church at the outset of my recovered faith, and how even now I
am moved, not by the singing but by what is sung (when they are
sung with a clear and skillfully modulated voice), I then come to
acknowledge the great utility of this custom. Thus I vacillate
between dangerous pleasure and healthful exercise. I am inclined
-- though I pronounce no irrevocable opinion on the subject -- to
approve of the use of singing in the church, so that by the
delights of the ear the weaker minds may be stimulated to a
devotional mood.[371] Yet when it happens that I am more moved by
the singing than by what is sung, I confess myself to have sinned
wickedly, and then I would rather not have heard the singing. See
now what a condition I am in! Weep with me, and weep for me,
those of you who can so control your inward feelings that good
results always come forth. As for you who do not act this way at
all, such things do not concern you. But do thou, O Lord, my God,
give ear; look and see, and have mercy upon me; and heal me --
thou, in whose sight I am become an enigma to myself; this itself
is my weakness.
CHAPTER XXXIV
51. There remain the delights of these eyes of my flesh,
about which I must make my confession in the hearing of the ears
of thy temple, brotherly and pious ears. Thus I will finish the
list of the temptations of carnal appetite which still assail me
-- groaning and desiring as I am to be clothed upon with my house
from heaven.[372]
The eyes delight in fair and varied forms, and bright and
pleasing colors. Let these not take possession of my soul!
Rather let God possess it, he who didst make all these things very
good indeed. He is still my good, and not these. The pleasures
of sight affect me all the time I am awake. There is no rest from
them given me, as there is from the voices of melody, which I can
occasionally find in silence. For daylight, that queen of the
colors, floods all that we look upon everywhere I go during the
day. It flits about me in manifold forms and soothes me even when
I am busy about other things, not noticing it. And it presents
itself so forcibly that if it is suddenly withdrawn it is looked
for with longing, and if it is long absent the mind is saddened.
52. O Light, which Tobit saw even with his eyes closed in
blindness, when he taught his son the way of life -- and went
before him himself in the steps of love and never went
astray[373]; or that Light which Isaac saw when his fleshly "eyes
were dim, so that he could not see"[374] because of old age, and
it was permitted him unknowingly to bless his sons, but in the
blessing of them to know them; or that Light which Jacob saw, when
he too, blind in old age yet with an enlightened heart, threw
light on the nation of men yet to come -- presignified in the
persons of his own sons -- and laid his hands mystically crossed
upon his grandchildren by Joseph (not as their father, who saw
them from without, but as though he were within them), and
distinguished them aright[375]: this is the true Light; it is one,
and all are one who see and love it.
But that corporeal light, of which I was speaking, seasons
the life of the world for her blind lovers with a tempting and
fatal sweetness. Those who know how to praise thee for it, "O
God, Creator of Us All," take it up in thy hymn,[376] and are not
taken over by it in their sleep. Such a man I desire to be. I
resist the seductions of my eyes, lest my feet be entangled as I
go forward in thy way; and I raise my invisible eyes to thee, that
thou wouldst be pleased to "pluck my feet out of the net."[377]
Thou dost continually pluck them out, for they are easily
ensnared. Thou ceasest not to pluck them out, but I constantly
remain fast in the snares set all around me. However, thou who
"keepest Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep."[378]
53. What numberless things there are: products of the
various arts and manufactures in our clothes, shoes, vessels, and
all such things; besides such things as pictures and statuary --
and all these far beyond the necessary and moderate use of them or
their significance for the life of piety -- which men have added
for the delight of the eye, copying the outward forms of the
things they make; but inwardly forsaking Him by whom they were
made and destroying what they themselves have been made to be!
And I, O my God and my Joy, I also raise a hymn to thee for
all these things, and offer a sacrifice of praise to my
Sanctifier, because those beautiful forms which pass through the
medium of the human soul into the artist's hands come from that
beauty which is above our minds, which my soul sighs for day and
night. But the craftsmen and devotees of these outward beauties
discover the norm by which they judge them from that higher
beauty, but not the measure of their use. Still, even if they do
not see it, it is there nevertheless, to guard them from wandering
astray, and to keep their strength for thee, and not dissipate it
in delights that pass into boredom. And for myself, though I can
see and understand this, I am still entangled in my own course
with such beauty, but thou wilt rescue me, O Lord, thou wilt
rescue me, "for thy loving-kindness is before my eyes."[379] For
I am captivated in my weakness but thou in thy mercy dost rescue
me: sometimes without my knowing it, because I had only lightly
fallen; at other times, the rescue is painful because I was stuck
fast.
CHAPTER XXXV
54. Besides this there is yet another form of temptation
still more complex in its peril. For in addition to the fleshly
appetite which strives for the gratification of all senses and
pleasures -- in which its slaves perish because they separate
themselves from thee -- there is also a certain vain and curious
longing in the soul, rooted in the same bodily senses, which is
cloaked under the name of knowledge and learning; not having
pleasure in the flesh, but striving for new experiences through
the flesh. This longing -- since its origin is our appetite for
learning, and since the sight is the chief of our senses in the
acquisition of knowledge -- is called in the divine language "the
lust of the eyes."[380] For seeing is a function of the eyes; yet
we also use this word for the other senses as well, when we
exercise them in the search for knowledge. We do not say, "Listen
how it glows," "Smell how it glistens," "Taste how it shines," or
"Feel how it flashes," since all of these are said to be _seen_.
And we do not simply say, "See how it shines," which only the eyes
can perceive; but we also say, "See how it sounds, see how it
smells, see how it tastes, see how hard it is." Thus, as we said
before, the whole round of sensory experience is called "the lust
of the eyes" because the function of seeing, in which the eyes
have the principal role, is applied by analogy to the other senses
when they are seeking after any kind of knowledge.
55. From this, then, one can the more clearly distinguish
whether it is pleasure or curiosity that is being pursued by the
senses. For pleasure pursues objects that are beautiful,
melodious, fragrant, savory, soft. But curiosity, seeking new
experiences, will even seek out the contrary of these, not with
(continued in part 17...)
----------------------------------------------------
file: /pub/resources/text/ipb-e/epl-01: agcon-16.txt
.
