- JJ0J^J 9 J l^ J ' mRVARD LASSiCS THE FIVE-FOOT HHLFOFBOOKS CONfESSIONSOF ST. AUGUSTINE IMITATION Of CHRIST mtUmtDnm^mt :i'-:5isr>o Si SB Biiai siiai THE HARVARD CLASSICS The Five-Foot Shelf of Books I ^ V. ^ St. Augustine Reading From a freico by Benozzo Gotzoli THE HARVARD CLASSICS EDITED BY CHARLES W. ELIOT, LL.D. The Confessions of St. Augustine TRANSLATED BY EDWARD B. PUSEY The Imitation of Christ By Thomas A. Kempis TRANSLATED BY WILLIAM BENHAM W//A Introductions and Notes Vo/ume 7 P. F. Collier & Son Corporation NEW YORK Copyright, 1909 By p. F. Collier & Son hanufactured in v. s. a. TABLE OF CONTENTS THE FIRST BCXJK Confessions of the greatness and unscarchablencss of God, of God's mercies in infancy and boyhood, and human wilfulness; of his own sins of idleness, abuse of his studies, and of God's gifts up to his fifteenth year .... 5 THE SECOND BOOK Object of these Confessions. Further ills of idleness developed in his sixteenth year. Evils of ill society, which betrayed him into theft 22 THE THIRD BOOK His residence at Carthage from his seventeenth to his nineteenth year. Source of his disorders. Love of shows. Advance in studies, and love of wisdom. Distaste for Scripture. Led astray to the Manichxans. Refutation of some of their tenets. Grief of his mother Monnica at his heresy, and prayers for his conversion. Her vision from God, and answer through a Bishop 31 THE FOURTH BOOK Augustine's life from nineteen to eight-and-twenty; himself a Manichzan, and seducing others to the same heresy; partial obedience amidst vanity and sin; consulting astrologers, only partially shaken herein; loss of an early friend, who is converted by being baptised when in a swoon; reflections on grief, on real and unreal friendship, and love of fame; writes on "the fair and fit," yet cannot rightly, though God had given him great talents, since he entertained wrong notions of God; and so even his knowledge he applied ill ... . 4; THE HFTH BOOK St. Augustine's twenty-ninth year. Faustus. a snare of Satan to many, made an instrument of deliverance to St. Augustine, by showing the ignorance of the Manichees on those things wherein they professed to have divine knowledge. Augustine gives up all thought of going further among the Manichees: is guided to Rome and Milan, where he hears St. Ambrose, leaves the Manichees, and becomes again a Catechumen in the Church Catholic 62 ■mv. SIXTH BOOK Arrival of Monnica at Milan; her obedience to St. Ambrose, and his value for her; St. Ambrose's habits; Augustine's gradual abandonment of error; finds that he has blamed the Church Citholic wrongly; desire of absolute certainty, but struck with the contrary analogv of God's natural Providence; how shaken in his worldly pursuits; God's guidance of his friend Alypius; Augustine debates with himself and his friends about their mode of life; his inveterate sins, and dread of judgment 79 I TABLE OF CONTENTS THE SEVENTH BOOK Augustine's thirty-first year; gradually extricated from his errors, but still with material conceptions of God; much aided by an argument of Nebridius; sees that the cause of sin lies in free-will, rejects the Manicharan heresy, but cannot altogether embrace the doctrine of the Church; recovered from the belief in Astrology, but miserably perplexed about the origin of evil; is led to find in the Platonists the seeds of the doctrine of the divinity of the Word, but not of His humiliation; hence he obtains clearer notions of God's majesty, but, not knowing Christ to be the Mediator, remains estranged from Him; all his doubts removed by the study of Holy Scripture, especially Sl Paul ... 98 THE EIGHTH BOOK Augustine's thirty-second year. He consults Simplicianus; from him hears the history of the conversion of Victorinus, and longs to devote himself entirely to God, but is mastered by his old habits; is still further roused by the history of St. Antony, and of the conversion of two courtiers; during a se>.Vie struggle hears a voice from heaven, opens Scripture, and is converted, with his friend Alypius. His mother's visions fulfilled 118 THE NINTH BOOK Augustine determines to devote his life to God, and to abandon his profession of Rhetoric, quietly however; retires to the country to prepare himself to receive the grace of Baptism, and is baptised with Alypius and his son Adeodatus. At Ostia, on his way to Africa, his mother Monnica dies, in her Aft>'-sixth year, the thirty-third of Augustine. Her life and character 138 THE TENTH BOOK Having in the former books spoken of himself before his receiving the grace of Baptism, in this Augustine confesses what he then was. But first he enquires by what faculty we can know God at all; whence he enlarges on the mysterious character of the memory, wherein God, being made known, dwells, but which could not discover Him. Then he examines his own trials under the triple division of temptation, "lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes, and pride"; what Christian continency prescribes as to each. On Christ the Only Mediator, who heals and will heal all infirmities 160 INTRODUCTORY NOTE AuRELius AucusTiNus, better known as Saint Augustine, was born of poor parents in the small town of Thagaste in Numidia, North Africa, AS). 354. His father, Patricias, a pagan of somewhat loose life, was con- verted to Christianity before his death; his mother Monnica, on account of her personal piety and her influence on her son, is one of the most revered women in the history of the Christian Church. Augustine was educated at the University of Carthage, and according to his own account belonged to a fast set and joined in their dissipations. While there he entered into a relation which lasted for fourteen years with a young woman who became the mother of his son Adeodatus; and he joined the heretical sect of the Manichacans, who professed to have received from their founder. Manes, a higher form of truth than that taught by Christ. At the close of his university career, which had been brilliant in spite of distractions, he returned to his native town, and first there, and later in Carthage and Rome, he practised as a teacher of rhetoric, training young lawyers in the art of pleading. By the time he was about twenty- seven he had begun to have doubts as to the validity of Manichacism, but it was not till 387, while he was Professor of Rhetoric in the Uni- versity of Milan, that he was converted to Catholic Christianity, and received baptism. He now gave up his profession and became an ascetic, studying the foundations of the faith, writing, chiefly against his former sect, and conversing with a group of disciples, first at Rome and then in his native town. When he was on a visit to Hippw, not far from Thagaste, he was forced into the priesthood, and in 395 he became Bishop of Hippo, an office which he filled for the remaining thirty-five years of his life. Though he took a leading part in the activities of the African Church through all this time, and gradually became one of the most dis- tinguished ecclesiastical figures in the Empire, the care of his diocese and the writing of his books formed his chief occupations. He continued to lead a life of extreme simplicity and self-denial, and in his episcopal establishment he trained a large number of disciples who became leaders in the Church. The strength of his hold on these younger men was due not merely to his intellectual ascendency, but also to the charm and sweetness of his disposition. A large part of his literary activity was devoted to controversy with the heretics of his time, first the Manichaeans, then the Donatists, and finally the Pelagians. It was in his writings against these last and most 3 4 INTRODUCTORY NOTE important opponents that he elaborated his statement of the doctrines of Predestination, Irresistible Grace and Final Perseverance, through which he has left his chief mark upwn the creeds of later times. The theology of the Schoolmen, such as Thomas Aquinas, and of the Calvinists of the Reformation, is built upon an Augustinian basis. His two most impwrtant books are "The City of God" and the "Con- fessions." The former of these was provoked by the attacks upon Chris- tianity, roused by the disasters that began to fall upon the Western Empire in the beginning of the fifth century; and Augustine replies by pointing out the failure of the heathen gods in former times to protect the peoples who trusted in them, and goes on to expose the evil influence of the belief in the old mythology, in a minute examination of its tradi- tions and mysteries. The second part of the book deals with the history of the "City of Man," founded upon love of self, and of the "City of God," founded upon love of God and contempt of self. This work is a vast storehouse of the knowledge of the time, and is a monument not only to Augustine's great learning, but also to the keenest metaphysical mind of the age. The "Confessions," here printed, speaks for itself. The earliest of auto- biographies, it remains unsurpassed as a sincere and intimate record of a great and pious soul laid bare before God. THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE THE FIRST BOOK Confessions of the greatness and unsearchableness of God, of God's mercies in infancy and boyhood, and human wilfulness; of his own sins of idleness, abuse of his studies, and of God's gifts up to his fifteenth year. ^^^REAT art Thou, O Lord, and greatly to be praised; great is m Thy power, and Thy wisdom infinite} And Thee would \^^ man praise; man, but a particle of Thy creation; man, that bears about him his mortality, the witness of his sin, the witness that Thou resistest the proud:^ yet would man praise Thee; he, but a particle of Thy creation. Thou awakest us to delight in Thy praise; for Thou madest us for Thyself, and our heart is restless, until it repose in Thee. Grant me. Lord, to know and understand which is first, to call on Thee or to praise Thee? and, again, to know Thee or to call on Thee? for who can call on Thee, not knowing Thee? for he that knoweth Thee not, may call on Thee as other than Thou art. Or, is it rather, that we call on Thee that we may know Thee ? But how shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed? or how shall they believe without a preacher?^ and they that see^ the Lord shall praise Him :* for they that see\ shall find Him^ and they that find shall praise Him. I will seek Thee, Lord, by calling on Thee; and will call on Thee, believing in Thee; for to us hast Thou been preached. My faith. Lord, shall call on Thee, which Thou hast given me, wherewith Thou hast inspired me, through the Incarnation of Thy Son, through the ministry of the Preacher. And how shall I call upon my God, my God and Lord, since, when I call for Him, I shall be calling Him to myself? and what ' Ps. cxlv. 3; cxlvii. 5. ' Jas. iv. 6; i Pet. v. 5. ' Rom. x. 14. * Ps. xxii. 26. * Matt. vii. 7. O THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE room is there within me, whither my God can come into me? whither can God come into me, God who made heaven and earth? is there, indeed, O Lord my God, aught in me that can contain Thee? do then heaven and earth, which Thou hast made, and wherein Thou hast made me, contain Thee? or, because nothing which exists could exist without Thee, doth therefore whatever ex- ists contain Thee? Since, then, I too exist, why do I seek that Thou shouldest enter into me, who were not, wert Thou not in me? Why ? because I am not gone down in hell, and yet Thou art there also. For // / go down into hell, Thou art there^ I could not be then, O my God, could not be at all, wert Thou not in me; or, rather, unless I were in Thee, o/ whom are all things, by whom are all things, in whom are all things?^ Even so. Lord, even so. Whither do I call Thee, since I am in Thee? or whence canst Thou enter into me? for whither can I go beyond heaven and earth, that thence my God should come into me, who hath said, / fill the heaven and the earth* Do the heaven and earth then contain Thee, since thou fillest them? or dost Thou fill them and yet overflow, since they do not contain Thee? And whither, when the heaven and the earth are filled, pourest Thou forth the remainder of Thyself? or hast Thou no need that aught contain Thee, who containest all things, since what Thou fillest Thou fillest by containing it ? for the vessels which Thou fillest uphold Thee not, since, though they were broken. Thou wert not poured out. And when Thou art poured out* on us. Thou art not cast down, but Thou upliftest us; Thou art not dissipated, but Thou gatherest us. But Thou who fillest all things, fillest Thou them with Thy whole self? or, since all things cannot contain Thee wholly, do they contain part of Thee? and all at once the same part? or each its own part, the greater more, the smaller less? And is, then, one part of Thee greater, another less? or, art Thou wholly every- where, while nothing contains Thee wholly ? What art Thou then, my God? what, but the Lord God? For who is Lord but the Lord? or who is God save our God?^" Most highest, most good, most potent, most omnipotent; most merciful, yet most just; most hidden, yet most present; most beautiful, yet * Ps. cxxxix. 7. ' Rom. xi. 36. * Jer. xxiii. 24. * Acts ii. 18. '" Ps. xviii. 31. THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE 7 most strong; stable, yet incomprehensible; unchangeable, yet all- changing; never new, never old; all-renewing, and bringing age upon the proud, and they }{now it not; ever working, ever at rest; still gathering, yet nothing lacking; supporting, filling, and over- spreading; creating, nourishing, and maturing; seeking, yet having all things. Thou lovest, without passion; art jealous, without anxiety; rejjentest, yet grievest not; art angry, yet serene; changest Thy works, Thy purpose unchanged; receivest again what Thou findest, yet didst never lose; never in need, yet rejoicing in gains; never covetous, yet exacting usury." Thou receivest over and above, that Thou mayest owe; and who hath aught that is not Thine? Thou payest debts, owing nothing; remittest debts, losing nothing. And what have I now said, my God, my life, my holy joy? or what saith any man when he speaks of Thee? Yet woe to him that speaketh not, since mute are even the most eloquent. Oh! that I might repose on Thee! Oh! that Thou wouldest enter into my heart, and inebriate it, that I may forget my ills, and em- brace Thee, my sole good? What art Thou to me? In Thy pity, teach me to utter it. Or what am 1 to Thee that Thou demandest my love, and, if I give it not, art wroth with me, and threatenest me with grievous woes? Is it then a slight woe to love Thee not? Oh! for Thy mercies' sake, tell me, O Lord my God, what Thou art unto me. Say unto my soul, I am thy sahation." So speak, that I may hear. Behold, Lord, my heart is before Thee; open Thou the ears thereof, and say unto my soul, I am thy salvation. After this voice let me haste, and take hold on Thee. Hide not Thy face from me. Let me die — lest I die — only let me see Thy face. Narrow is the mansion of my soul; enlarge Thou it, that Thou mayest enter in. It is ruinous; repair Thou it. It has that within which must oflend Thine eyes; I confess and know it. But who shall cleanse it? or to whom should I cry, save Thee? Lord, cleanse me from my secret faults and spare Thy servant from the power of the enemy}^ I believe, and therefore do I speal{}* Lord, Thou knowest. Have I not confessed against myself my transgressions unto Thee, and Thou, my God, hast forgiven the iniquity of my heart?^^ I con- "Matt. XXV. 27, supererogatur tihi. "Ps. xxxv. 3. "Ps. xix. 12, 13. "Ps. cxvi. 10. "Ps. xxxii. 5, 8 THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE tend not in judgment with Thee,^* who art the truth; I fear to de- ceive myself; lest mine iniquity lie unto itself" Therefore I contend not in judgment with Thee; for if Thou, Lord, shouldest mar]{ iniquities, O Lord, who shall abide it?^' Yet suffer me to speak unto Thy mercy, me, dust and ashes}* Yet suffer me to speak, since I speak to Thy mercy, and not to scornful man. Thou too, perhaps, despisest me, yet wilt Thou return and have compassion^" upon me. For what would I say, O Lord my God, but that I know not whence I came into this dying life (shall I call it?) or living death. Then immediately did the comforts of Thy compassion take me up, as I heard (for I remember it not) from the parents of my flesh, out of whose substance Thou didst some- time fashion me. Thus there received me the comforts of woman's milk. For neither my mother nor my nurses stored their own breasts for me; but Thou didst bestow the food of my infancy through them, according to Thine ordinance, whereby Thou distributest Thy riches through the hidden springs of all things. Thou also gavest me to desire no more than Thou gavest; and to my nurses willingly to give me what Thou gavest them. For they, with a heaven-taught affection, willingly gave me what they abounded with from Thee. For this my good from them, was good for them. Nor, indeed, from them was it, but through them; for from Thee, O God, are all good things, and from my God is all my health. This I since learned. Thou, through these Thy gifts, within me and without, proclaiming Thyself unto me. For then I knew but to suck; to repose in what pleased, and cry at what offended my flesh; nothing more. Afterwards I began to smile; first in sleep, then waking: for so it was told me of myself, and I believed it; for we see the like in other infants, though of myself I remember it not. Thus, little by litde, I became conscious where I was; and to have a wish to express my wishes to those who could content them, and I could not; for the wishes were within me, and they without; nor could they by any sense of theirs enter within my spirit. So I flung about at random limbs and voice, making the few signs I could, and such as I could, like, though in truth very little like, what I wished. And when I was not presently obeyed (my wishes being hurtful or unintelligible), "Jobix. 3. "P$.xxvL 12.— Vulg. "P». cxxx. 3. *• Gen. xviii. 27. "Jer. xiL 15. THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE 9 then I was indignant with my elders for not submitting to me, with those owing me no service, for not serving me; and avenged myself on them by tears. Such have I learnt infants to be from observing them; and that I was myself such, they, all unconscious, have shown me better than my nurses who knew it. And, lo! my infancy died long since, and I live. But Thou, Lord, who for ever livest, and in whom nothing dies: for before the foun- dation of the worlds, and before all that can be called "before," Thou art, and art God and Lord of all which Thou hast created: in Thee abide, fixed for ever, the first causes of all things unabiding; and of all things changeable, the springs abide in Thee unchangeable: and in Thee live the eternal reasons of all things unreasoning and temporal. Say, Lord, to me. Thy suppliant; say, all-pitying, to me, Thy pitiable one; say, did my infancy succeed another age of mine that died before it? was it that which I spent within my mother's womb? for of that I have heard somewhat, and have myself seen women with child? and what before that life again, O God my joy, was I any where or any body ? For this have I none to tell me, neither father nor mother, nor experience of others, nor mine own memory. Dost Thou mock me for asking this, and bid me praise Thee and acknowledge Thee, for that I do know? I acknowledge Thee, Lord of heaven and earth, and praise Thee for my first rudiments of being, and my infancy, whereof I remem- ber nothing; for Thou hast appointed that man should from others guess much as to himself; and believe much on the strength of weak females. Even then I had being and life, and (at my infancy's close) I could seek for signs whereby to make known to others my sensa- tions. Whence could such a being be, save from Thee, Lord? Shall any be his own artificer? or can there elsewhere be derived any vein, which may stream essence and life into us, save from Thee, O Lord, in whom essence and life are one? for Thou Thyself art supremely Essence and Life. For Thou art most high, and art not changed" neither in Thee doth to-day come to a close; yet in Thee doth it come to a close; because all such things also are in Thee. For they had no way to pass away, unless Thou upheldest them. And since Thy years jail not" Thy years are one to-day. How many *'Mal. iii. 6. '^Ps. cii. 27. 10 THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE of ours and our fathers' years have flowed away through Thy "to-day," and from it received the measure and the mould of such being as they had; and still others shall flow away, and so receive the mould of their degree of being. But Thou art still the samej^ and all things of to-morrow, and all beyond, and all of yesterday, and all behind it. Thou hast done to-day. What is it to me, though any comprehend not this? Let him also rejoice and say, What thing is this?* Let him rejoice even thus; and be content rather by not discovering to discover Thee, than by discovering not to discover Thee, Hear, O God. Alas, for man's sin! So saith man, and Thou pitiest him; for Thou madest him, but sin in him Thou madest not. Who remindeth me of the sins of my infancy ? jor in Thy sight none is pure from sin, not even the infant whose life is but a day upon the earth?" Who remindeth me? doth not each little infant, in whom I see what of myself I remember not? What then was my sin? was it that I hung upon the breast and cried ? for should I now so do for food suitable to my age, justly should I be laughed at and reproved. What I then did was worthy reproof; but since I could not under- stand reproof, custom and reason forbade me to be reproved. For those habits, when grown, we root out and cast away. Now no man, though he prunes, wittingly casts away what is good." Or was it then good, even for a while, to cry for what, if given, would hurt? bitterly to resent, that persons free, and its own elders, yea, the very authors of its birth, served it not? that many besides, wiser than it, obeyed not the nod of its good pleasure? to do its best to strike and hurt, because commands were not obeyed, which had been obeyed to its hurt? The weakness then of infant limbs, not its will, is its innocence. Myself have seen and known even a baby envious; it could not speak, yet it turned pale and looked bitterly on its foster- brother. Who knows not this? Mothers and nurses tell you that they allay these things by I know not what remedies. Is that too innocence, when the fountain of milk is flowing in rich abundance, not to endure one to share it, though in extremest need, and whose very life as yet depends thereon? We bear gently with all this, not as being no or slight evils, but because they will disappear as years "Ps. cii. 27. '*Exod. xvL 15. "Jobxxv. 4. "Johnxv. 2. THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE II increase; for, though tolerated now, the very same tempers are utterly intolerable when found in riper years. Thou, then, O Lord my God, who gavest life to this my infancy, furnishing thus with senses (as we see) the frame Thou gavest, compacting its limbs, ornamenting its proportions, and for its gen- eral good and safety, implanting in it all vital functions. Thou com- mandest me to praise Thee in these things, to confess unto Thee, and sing unto Thy name, Thou most Highest^ For Thou art God, Almighty and Good, even hadst Thou done nought but only this, which none could do but Thou; whose Unity is the mould of all things; who out of Thy own fairness makest all things fair; and orderest all things by Thy law. This age, then, Lord, whereof I have no remembrance, which I take on others' word, and guess from other infants that I have passed, true though the guess be, I am yet loth to count in this life of mine which I live in this world. For no less than that which I spent in my mother's womb, is it hid from me in the shadows of forgetful ness. But if / was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me^' where, I beseech Thee, O my God, where. Lord, or when, was I Thy servant guiltless? But, lo! that period I pass by; and what have I now to do with that, of which I can recall no vestige.? Passing hence from infancy, I came to boyhood, or rather it came to me, displacing infancy. Nor did that depart, — (for whither went it.'') — and yet it was no more. For I was no longer a speechless in- fant, but a speaking boy. This I remember; and have since observed how I learned to speak. It was not that my elders taught me words (as, soon after, other learning) in any set method; but I, longing by cries and broken accents and various motions of my limbs to express my thoughts, that so I might have my will, and yet unable to express all I willed, or to whom I willed, did myself, by the understanding which Thou, my God, gavest me, practise the sounds in my memory. When they named any thing, and as they spoke turned towards it, I saw and remembered that they called what they would point out by the name they uttered. And that they meant this thing and no other was plain from the motion of their body, the natural language, as it were, of all nations, expressed by the "Ps. xcii. I. "Ps. li. 7. 12 THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE countenance, glances of the eye, gestures of the limbs, and tones of the voice, indicating the affections of the mind, as it pursues, pos- sesses, rejects, or shuns. And thus by constantly hearing words, as they occurred in various sentences, I collected gradually for what they stood; and having broken in my mouth to these signs, I thereby gave utterance to my will. Thus I exchanged with those about me these current signs of our wills, and so launched deeper into the stormy intercourse of human life, yet depending on parental au- thority and the beck of elders. O God my God, what miseries and mockeries did I now experi- ence, when obedience to my teachers was proposed to me, as projjer in a boy, in order that in this world I might prosper, and excel in tongue-science, which should serve to the "praise of men," and to deceitful riches. Next I was put to school to get learning, in which I (poor wretch) knew not what use there was; and yet, if idle in learning, I was beaten. For this was judged right by our forefathers; and many, passing the same course before us, framed for us weary paths, through which we were fain to pass; multiplying toil and grief upon the sons of Adam. But, Lord, we found that men called upon Thee, and we learnt from them to think of Thee (according to our powers) as of some great One, who, though hidden from our senses, couldst hear and help us. For so I began, as a boy, to pray to Thee, my aid and refuge; and broke the fetters of my tongue to call on Thee, praying Thee, though small, yet with no small earnestness, that I might not be beaten at school. And when Thou heardst me not {not thereby giving me over to folly^^), my elders, yea, my very parents, who yet wished me no ill, mocked my stripes, my then great and grievous ill. Is there. Lord, any of soul so great, and cleaving to Thee with so intense affection (for a sort of stupidity will in a way do it) ; but is there any one who, from cleaving devoutly to Thee, is endued with so great a spirit, that he can think as lightly of the racks and hooks and other torments (against which, throughout all lands, men call on Thee with extreme dread), mocking at those by whom they are feared most bitterly, as our parents mocked the torments which we suffered in boyhood from our masters? For we feared not our tor- "P*. xxL 3. — Vulg. THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE I3 ments less; nor prayed we less to Thee to escape them. And yet we sinned, in writing or reading or studying less than was exacted of us. For we wanted not, O Lord, memory or capacity, whereof Thy will gave enough for our age; but our sole delight was play; and for this we were punished by those who yet themselves were doing the like. But elder folks' idleness is called "business"; that of boys, being really the same, is punished by those elders; and none com- miserates either boys or men. For will any of sound discretion ap- prove of my being beaten as a boy, because, by playing at ball, I made less progress in studies which I was to learn, only that, as a man, I might play more unbeseemingly? and what else did he who beat me ? who, if worsted in some trifling discussion with his fellow- tutor, was more embittered and jealous than I when beaten at ball by a play-fellow? And yet, I sinned herein, O Lord God, the Creator and Disposer of all things in nature, of sin the Disposer" only, O Lord my God, I sinned in transgressing the commands of my parents and those my masters. For what they, with whatever motive, would have me learn, I might afterwards have put to good use. For I disobeyed, not from a better choice, but from love of play, loving the pride of vic- tory in my contests, and to have my ears tickled with lying fables, that they might itch the more; the same curiosity flashing from my eyes more and more, for the shows and games of my elders. Yet those who give these shows are in such esteem, that almost all wish the same for their children, and yet are very willing that they should be beaten, if those very games detain them from the studies, whereby they would have them attain to be the givers of them. Look with pity. Lord, on these things, and deliver us who call upon Thee now; deliver those too who call not on Thee yet, that they may call on Thee, and Thou mayest deliver them. As a boy, then, I had already heard of an eternal life, promised us through the humility of the Lord our God stooping to our pride; and even from the womb of my mother, who greatly hoped in Thee, I was sealed with the mark of His cross and salted with His salt. Thou sawest, Lord, how while yet a boy, being seized on a time with sudden oppression of the stomach, and like near to death — Thou *> Ordinator. 14 THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE sawest, my God (for Thou wert my keeper), with what eagerness and what faith I sought, from the pious care of my mother and Thy Church, the mother of us all, the baptism of Thy Christ my God and Lord. Whereupon the mother of my flesh, being much troubled (since, with a heart pure in Thy faith, she even more lovingly tra- vailed in birth^^ of my salvation), would in eager haste have provided for my consecration and cleansing by the health-giving sacraments, confessing Thee, Lord Jesus, for the remission of sins, unless I had suddenly recovered. And so, as if I must needs be again polluted should I live, my cleansing was deferred, because the defilements of sin would, after that washing, bring greater and more perilous guilt. I then already believed: and my mother, and the whole household except my father: yet did not he prevail over the power of my mother's piety in me, that as he did not yet believe, so neither should I. For it was her earnest care that Thou my God, rather than he, sbouldest be my father; and in this Thou didst aid her to prevail over her husband, whom she, the better, obeyed, therein also obey- ing Thee, who hast so commanded. I beseech Thee, my God, I would fain know, if so Thou wiliest, for what purpose my baptism was then deferred? was it for my good that the rein was laid loose, as it were, upon me, for me to sin? or was it not laid loose? If not, why does it still echo in our ears on all sides, "Let him alone, let him do as he will, for he is not yet baptised?" but as to bodily health, no one says, "Let him be worse wounded, for he is not yet healed." How much better then, had I been at once healed; and then by my friends' diligence and my own, my soul's recovered health had been kept safe in Thy keeping who gavest it. Better truly. But how many and great waves of tempta- tion seemed to hang over me after my boyhood! These my mother foresaw; and preferred to expose to them the clay whence I might afterwards be moulded, than the very cast, when made. In boyhood itself, however (so much less dreaded for me than youth), I loved not study, and hated to be forced to it. Yet I was forced; and this was well done towards me, but I did not well; for, unless forced, I had not learnt. But no one doth well against his will, even though what he doth, be well. Yet neither did they well " Gal. iv. 19. THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE I5 who forced me, but what was well came to me from Thee, my God. For they were regardless how I should employ what they forced me to learn, except to satiate the insatiate desires of a wealthy beggary, and a shameful glory. But Thou, by whom the very hairs of our head are numbered" didst use for my good the error of all who urged me to learn; and my own, who would not learn, Thou didst use for my punishment — a fit penalty for one, so small a boy and so great a sinner. So by those who did not well. Thou didst well for me; and by my own sin Thou didst jusdy punish me. For Thou hast com- manded, and so it is, that every inordinate affection should be its own punishment. But why did I so much hate the Greek, which I studied as a boy ? I do not yet fully know. For the Latin I loved; not what my first masters, but what the so