Augustine: CONFESSIONES

magnus es, domine, et laudabilis valde. magna virtus tua et sapientiae tuae non est numerus. et laudare te vult homo, aliqua portio creaturae tuae, et homo circumferens mortalitatem suam, circumferens testimonium peccati sui et testimonium quia superbis resistis; et tamen laudare te vult homo, aliqua portio creaturae tuae.

great are you, lord, and greatly to be praised. great is your power, and your wisdom is without number. and man wishes to praise you, some portion of your creature, and man carrying about his mortality, carrying about the testimony of his sin and the testimony that you resist the proud; and yet man wishes to praise you, some portion of your creature.

tu excitas ut laudare te delectet, quia fecisti nos ad te et inquietum est cor nostrum donec requiescat in te. da mihi, domine, scire et intellegere utrum sit prius invocare te an laudare te, et scire te prius sit an invocare te. sed quis te invocat nesciens te? aliud enim pro alio potest invocare nesciens. an potius invocaris ut sciaris? quomodo autem invocabunt, in quem non crediderunt?

you stir us up so that it delights to praise you, because you made us for yourself and our heart is restless until it rests in you. give me, Lord, to know and to understand whether it is first to invoke you or to praise you, and whether it is first to know you or to invoke you. but who invokes you not knowing you? for the one not knowing can invoke one thing for another. or rather are you invoked so that you may be known? but how will they invoke him in whom they have not believed?

aut quomodo credent sine praedicante? et laudabunt dominum qui requirunt eum: quaerentes enim inveniunt eum et invenientes laudabunt eum. quaeram te, domine, invocans te et invocem te credens in te: praedicatus enim es nobis.

or how will they believe without a preacher? and they will praise the Lord who seek him: for those seeking find him, and those finding will praise him. I will seek you, Lord, invoking you, and I will invoke you, believing in you: for you have been preached to us.

invocat te, domine, fides mea, quam dedisti mihi, quam inspirasti mihi per humanitatem filii tui, per ministerium praedicatoris tui.

My faith invokes you, Lord, which you gave to me, which you inspired in me through the humanity of your Son, through the ministry of your preacher.

1.2.2

et quomodo invocabo deum meum, deum et dominum meum, quoniam utique in me ipsum eum vocabo, cum invocabo eum? et quis locus est in me quo veniat in me deus meus, quo deus veniat in me, deus qui fecit caelum et terram? itane, domine deus meus?

and how shall I invoke my God, my God and my Lord, since surely I shall call him into myself when I invoke him? and what place is there in me where my God may come into me, where God may come into me, God who made heaven and earth? is it so, O Lord my God?

est quicquam in me quod capiat te? an vero caelum et terra, quae fecisti et in quibus me fecisti, capiunt te? an quia sine te non esset quidquid est, fit ut quidquid est capiat te? quoniam itaque et ego sum, quid peto ut venias in me, qui non essem nisi esses in me? non enim ego iam inferi, et tamen etiam ibi es, nam etsi descendero in infernum, ades. non ergo essem, deus meus, non omnino essem, nisi esses in me. an potius non essem nisi essem in te, ex quo omnia, per quem omnia, in quo omnia? etiam sic, domine, etiam sic.

Is there anything in me that can contain you? Or indeed do heaven and earth, which you made and in which you made me, contain you? Or because without you whatever is would not be, does it come about that whatever is contains you? Since therefore I too am, why do I ask that you come into me, I who would not be unless you were in me? For I am not the underworld, and yet even there you are, for even if I descend into hell, you are present. I would not be, my God, I would not be at all, unless you were in me. Or rather, I would not be unless I were in you, from whom all things, through whom all things, in whom all things. Even so, Lord, even so.

quo te invoco, cum in te sim? aut unde venias in me? quo enim recedam extra caelum et terram, ut inde in me veniat deus meus, qui dixit, 'caelum et terram ego impleo'?

whither do I invoke you, since I am in you? or whence would you come into me? for whither shall I recede outside heaven and earth, that from there my God may come into me, who said, 'I fill heaven and earth'?

1.3.3

capiunt ergone te caelum et terra, quoniam tu imples ea? an imples et restat, quoniam non te capiunt? et quo refundis quidquid impleto caelo et terra restat ex te? an non opus habes ut quoquam continearis, qui contines omnia, quoniam quae imples continendo imples? non enim vasa quae te plena sunt stabilem te faciunt, quia etsi frangantur non effunderis.

Do heaven and earth then contain you, since you fill them? Or do you fill them and there remains something, since they do not contain you? And whither do you pour back whatever of you remains after heaven and earth are filled? Or have you no need to be contained anywhere, you who contain all things, since the things which you fill you fill by containing? For the vessels that are full of you do not hold you fast, because even if they are broken you are not poured out.

et cum effunderis super nos, non tu iaces sed erigis nos, nec tu dissiparis sed conligis nos. sed quae imples omnia, te toto imples omnia. an quia non possunt te totum capere omnia, partem tui capiunt et eandem partem simul omnia capiunt?

and when you are poured out upon us, it is not you who lie down but you raise us up, nor are you dissipated but you gather us. But you who fill all things, with your whole self you fill all things. Or because all things cannot contain you whole, do they take a part of you, and do all things at once contain the same part?

an singulas singula et maiores maiora, minores minora capiunt? ergo est aliqua pars tua maior, aliqua minor? an ubique totus es et res nulla te totum capit?

Or do individual things contain individual portions, and the greater the greater, the lesser the lesser? Therefore is some part of you greater, some lesser? Or are you whole everywhere, and does no thing contain you whole?

1.4.4

quid es ergo, deus meus? quid, rogo, nisi dominus deus? quis enim dominus praeter dominum?

what are you, then, my god? what, i ask, if not the lord god? for who is lord except the lord?

aut quis deus praeter deum nostrum? summe, optime, potentissime, omnipotentissime, misericordissime et iustissime, secretissime et praesentissime, pulcherrime et fortissime, stabilis et incomprehensibilis, immutabilis mutans omnia, numquam novus numquam vetus, innovans omnia et in vetustatem perducens superbos et nesciunt. semper agens semper quietus, conligens et non egens, portans et implens et protegens, creans et nutriens et perficiens, quaerens cum nihil desit tibi.

or who is god except our god? most high, best, most potent, most omnipotent, most merciful and most just, most secret and most present, most beautiful and most strong, stable and incomprehensible, immutable, changing all things, never new never old, renewing all things and leading the proud into oldness, and they know not. always acting always at rest, collecting and not needing, bearing and filling and protecting, creating and nourishing and perfecting, seeking though nothing is lacking to you.

amas nec aestuas, zelas et securus es, paenitet te et non doles, irasceris et tranquillus es, opera mutas nec mutas consilium, recipis quod invenis et numquam amisisti. numquam inops et gaudes lucris, numquam avarus et usuras exigis, supererogatur tibi ut debeas: et quis habet quicquam non tuum? reddis debita nulli debens, donas debita nihil perdens.

You love and do not seethe, you are zealous and you are secure, you repent and do not grieve, you are angered and you are tranquil, you change works and you do not change counsel, you receive what you find and you never lost. Never needy and you rejoice in profits, never avaricious and you exact usury, it is supererogated to you so that you may owe: and who has anything that is not yours? You render debts, owing nothing to anyone; you forgive debts, losing nothing.

et quid diximus, deus meus, vita mea, dulcedo mea sancta, aut quid dicit aliquis cum de te dicit? et vae tacentibus de te, quoniam loquaces muti sunt.

and what have we said, my God, my life, my holy sweetness, or what does anyone say when he speaks of you? and woe to those who are silent about you, since the loquacious are mute.

1.5.5

quis mihi dabit adquiescere in te? quis dabit mihi ut venias in cor meum et inebries illud, ut obliviscar mala mea et unum bonum meum amplectar, te? quid mihi es? miserere ut loquar. quid tibi sum ipse, ut amari te iubeas a me et, nisi faciam, irascaris mihi et mineris ingentes miserias? parvane ipsa est si non amem te? ei mihi!

Who will grant me to come to rest in you? Who will grant me that you come into my heart and inebriate it, that I may forget my evils and embrace my one good—yourself? What are you to me? Have mercy, that I may speak. What am I myself to you, that you command to be loved by me, and, if I do not do it, you grow angry with me and threaten immense miseries? Is it itself a small thing if I should not love you? Alas for me!

dic mihi per miserationes tuas, domine deus meus, quid sis mihi. dic animae meae, 'salus tua ego sum': sic dic ut audiam. ecce aures cordis mei ante te, domine.

tell me through your compassions, lord my god, what you are to me. tell my soul, 'i am your salvation': so speak that I may hear. behold, the ears of my heart are before you, lord.

aperi eas et dic animae meae, 'salus tua ego sum.' curram post vocem hanc et apprehendam te. noli abscondere a me faciem tuam: moriar, ne moriar, ut eam videam.

Open them and say to my soul, 'I am your salvation.' I will run after this voice and lay hold of you. Do not hide your face from me: let me die, lest I die, that I may see it.

1.5.6

angusta est domus animae meae quo venias ad eam: dilatetur abs te. ruinosa est: refice eam. habet quae offendant oculos tuos: fateor et scio. sed quis mundabit eam?

Narrow is the house of my soul, for you to come to it: let it be dilated by you. It is ruinous: repair it. It has things that offend your eyes: I confess and I know. But who will cleanse it?

aut cui alteri praeter te clamabo, 'ab occultis meis munda me, domine, et ab alienis parce servo tuo?' credo, propter quod et loquor, domine: tu scis. nonne tibi prolocutus sum adversum me delicta mea, deus meus, et tu dimisisti impietatem cordis mei? non iudicio contendo tecum, qui veritas es, et ego nolo fallere me ipsum, ne mentiatur iniquitas mea sibi.

or to what other than you shall I cry out, “cleanse me from my hidden things, Lord, and from others’ spare your servant”? I believe, and for that reason I speak, Lord: you know. Have I not spoken forth to you my delicts against myself, my God, and you forgave the impiety of my heart? I do not contend in judgment with you, who are Truth, and I do not wish to deceive myself, lest my iniquity lie to itself.

non ergo iudicio contendo tecum, quia, si iniquitates observaveris, domine, domine, quis sustinebit?

I do not, therefore, contend with you in judgment, because, if you should observe iniquities, Lord, Lord, who will sustain?

1.6.7

sed tamen sine me loqui apud misericordiam tuam, me terram et cinerem sine tamen loqui. quoniam ecce misericordia tua est, non homo, inrisor meus, cui loquor. et tu fortasse inrides me, sed conversus misereberis mei.

but yet allow me to speak before your mercy, allow me—earth and ash—nevertheless to speak. since behold, it is your mercy, not a man, my derider, to whom I speak. and you perhaps deride me, but turning, you will have mercy on me.

quid enim est quod volo dicere, domine, nisi quia nescio unde venerim huc, in istam dico vitam mortalem an mortem vitalem? nescio. et susceperunt me consolationes miserationum tuarum, sicut audivi a parentibus carnis meae, ex quo et in qua me formasti in tempore: non enim ego memini.

For what is it that I wish to say, Lord, if not that I do not know whence I have come hither—into, do I say, this mortal life or vital death? I do not know. And the consolations of your mercies received me, as I heard from the parents of my flesh, from whom and in whom you formed me in time: for I do not remember.

exceperunt ergo me consolationes lactis humani, nec mater mea vel nutrices meae sibi ubera implebant, sed tu mihi per eas dabas alimentum infantiae secundum institutionem tuam et divitias usque ad fundum rerum dispositas. tu etiam mihi dabas nolle amplius quam dabas, et nutrientibus me dare mihi velle quod eis dabas: dare enim mihi per ordinatum affectum volebant quo abundabant ex te. nam bonum erat eis bonum meum ex eis, quod ex eis non sed per eas erat. ex te quippe bona omnia, deus, et ex deo meo salus mihi universa.

Therefore the consolations of human milk took me up, and neither my mother nor my nurses filled their breasts for themselves, but you through them were giving me the nourishment of infancy according to your institution and the riches disposed down to the very foundation of things. You also gave to me not to want more than you were giving, and to those nourishing me you gave to will to give to me what you were giving to them: for through an ordered affection, with which they abounded from you, they wanted to give to me. For my good from them was good to them, which was not from them but through them. For from you are all goods, O God, and from my God is my entire salvation.

quod animadverti postmodum, clamante te mihi per haec ipsa quae tribuis intus et foris. nam tunc sugere noram et adquiescere delectationibus, flere autem offensiones carnis meae, nihil amplius.

which I noticed afterward, with you crying out to me through these very things which you bestow within and without. For then I knew how to suck and to acquiesce in delectations, and to weep at the offenses of my flesh, nothing more.

1.6.8

post et ridere coepi, dormiens primo, deinde vigilans. hoc enim de me mihi indicatum est et credidi, quoniam sic videmus alios infantes: nam ista mea non memini. et ecce paulatim sentiebam ubi essem, et voluntates meas volebam ostendere eis per quos implerentur, et non poteram, quia illae intus erant, foris autem illi, nec ullo suo sensu valebant introire in animam meam.

afterwards I also began to laugh, first sleeping, then awake. For this was indicated to me about myself and I believed it, since thus we see other infants; for these things of mine I do not remember. And behold, little by little I perceived where I was, and I wished to show my volitions to those by whom they might be fulfilled, and I could not, because they were within, but they outside, nor by any of their sense were they able to enter into my soul.

itaque iactabam membra et voces, signa similia voluntatibus meis, pauca quae poteram, qualia poteram: non enim erant vere similia. et cum mihi non obtemperabatur, vel non intellecto vel ne obesset, indignabar non subditis maioribus et liberis non servientibus, et me de illis flendo vindicabam. tales esse infantes didici quos discere potui, et me talem fuisse magis mihi ipsi indicaverunt nescientes quam scientes nutritores mei.

and so I was tossing my limbs and voices, signs similar to my volitions, the few I could, such as I could: for they were not truly similar. And when I was not obeyed, either because I was not understood or lest it should be harmful, I was indignant at elders not being subject and free persons not serving, and I avenged myself upon them by weeping. I learned that infants are such from those whom I was able to observe, and that I had been such my nurturers made known to me more unknowing than knowing.

1.6.9

et ecce infantia mea olim mortua est et ego vivo. tu autem, domine, qui et semper vivis et nihil moritur in te, quoniam ante primordia saeculorum, et ante omne quod vel ante dici potest, tu es, et deus es dominusque omnium quae creasti, et apud te rerum omnium instabilium stant causae, et rerum omnium mutabilium immutabiles manent origines, et omnium inrationalium et temporalium sempiternae vivunt rationes, dic mihi supplici tuo, deus, et misericors misero tuo dic mihi, utrum alicui iam aetati meae mortuae successerit infantia mea. an illa est quam egi intra viscera matris meae?

and behold, my infancy once upon a time has died, and I live. But you, Lord, who both always live and nothing dies in you, since before the beginnings of the ages, and before everything that can even be said to be “before,” you are, and you are God and Lord of all things that you have created; and with you the causes of all unstable things stand, and the immutable origins of all changeable things remain, and the sempiternal reasons of all irrational and temporal things live. Tell me, to your suppliant, O God; and, merciful, tell me to your wretched one: has my infancy now succeeded to some age of mine that has died? Or is it that which I spent within my mother’s womb?

nam et de illa mihi nonnihil indicatum est et praegnantes ipse vidi feminas. quid ante hanc etiam, dulcedo mea, deus meus? fuine alicubi aut aliquis?

for even about that, something has been indicated to me, and I myself have seen pregnant women. and what before this as well, my sweetness, my God? was I anywhere or anyone?

nam quis mihi dicat ista, non habeo; nec pater nec mater potuerunt, nec aliorum experimentum nec memoria mea. an inrides me ista quaerentem teque de hoc quod novi laudari a me iubes et confiteri me tibi?

for who will tell me those things? I have no one; neither father nor mother could, nor the experience of others nor my own memory. Or do you mock me for seeking these things, and do you bid that, concerning this which I know, you be praised by me and that I confess to you?

1.6.10

confiteor tibi, domine caeli et terrae, laudem dicens tibi de primordiis et infantia mea, quae non memini. et dedisti ea homini ex aliis de se conicere et auctoritatibus etiam muliercularum multa de se credere. eram enim et vivebam etiam tunc, et signa quibus sensa mea nota aliis facerem iam in fine infantiae quaerebam.

I confess to you, Lord of heaven and earth, giving praise to you about my beginnings and my infancy, which I do not remember. And you have granted to man to infer these things about himself from others, and upon the authority even of womenfolk to believe many things about himself. For I both was and lived even then, and already at the end of infancy I was seeking signs by which I might make my perceptions known to others.

unde hoc tale animal nisi abs te, domine? an quisquam se faciendi erit artifex? aut ulla vena trahitur aliunde qua esse et vivere currat in nos, praeterquam quod tu facis nos, domine, cui esse et vivere non aliud atque aliud, quia summe esse ac summe vivere idipsum est?

Whence is such an animal except from you, Lord? Or will anyone be an artificer of making himself? Or is any vein drawn from elsewhere by which being and living flow into us, except that you make us, Lord, for whom to be and to live are not one thing and another, because to be supremely and to live supremely are the selfsame thing?

summus enim es et non mutaris, neque peragitur in te hodiernus dies, et tamen in te peragitur, quia in te sunt et ista omnia: non enim haberent vias transeundi, nisi contineres eas. et quoniam anni tui non deficiunt, anni tui hodiernus dies. et quam multi iam dies nostri et patrum nostrorum per hodiernum tuum transierunt et ex illo acceperunt modos et utcumque extiterunt, et transibunt adhuc alii et accipient et utcumque existent.

for you are supreme and you are not changed, nor is today’s day carried through in you, and yet in you it is carried through, because in you too are all these things: for they would not have ways of passing through unless you contained them. and since your years do not fail, your years are one Today. and how many already of our days and of our fathers have passed through your Today and from it have received measures and have, in whatever way, existed; and others will still pass through and will receive, and will, in whatever way, exist.

tu autem idem ipse es et omnia crastina atque ultra omniaque hesterna et retro hodie facies, hodie fecisti. quid ad me, si quis non intellegat? gaudeat et ipse dicens, 'quid est hoc?' gaudeat etiam sic, et amet non inveniendo invenire potius quam inveniendo non invenire te.

But you are the selfsame, and all tomorrows and beyond, and all yesterdays and back, you will make today; today you have made. What is it to me, if someone does not understand? Let him too rejoice, saying, 'What is this?' Let him rejoice even so, and let him love, by not finding, to find rather than, by finding, not to find you.

1.7.11

exaudi, deus. vae peccatis hominum! et homo dicit haec, et misereris eius, quoniam tu fecisti eum et peccatum non fecisti in eo. quis me commemorat peccatum infantiae meae, quoniam nemo mundus a peccato coram te, nec infans cuius est unius diei vita super terram?

Hear, O God. Woe to the sins of men! And a man says these things, and you have mercy on him, since you made him and did not make sin in him. Who will commemorate to me the sin of my infancy, since no one is clean from sin before you, not even an infant whose life is of one day upon the earth?

quis me commemorat? an quilibet tantillus nunc parvulus, in quo video quod non memini de me? quid ergo tunc peccabam? an quia uberibus inhiabam plorans?

Who reminds me? Is it any tiny little one now, a small child, in whom I see what I do not remember about myself? What then was I sinning at that time? Was it because, weeping, I gaped for the breasts?

nam si nunc faciam, non quidem uberibus sed escae congruenti annis meis ita inhians, deridebor atque reprehendar iustissime. tunc ergo reprehendenda faciebam, sed quia reprehendentem intellegere non poteram, nec mos reprehendi me nec ratio sinebat: nam extirpamus et eicimus ista crescentes. nec vidi quemquam scientem, cum aliquid purgat, bona proicere.

for if I do it now, not indeed for breasts but, gaping thus for food congruent to my years, I shall be derided and most justly reprehended. then, therefore, I was doing things to be reprehended; but because I could not understand the one reprehending, neither custom allowed me to be reprehended nor did reason: for as we grow, we extirpate and eject such things. nor have I seen any knowledgeable person, when he purges something, throw out the good.

an pro tempore etiam illa bona erant, flendo petere etiam quod noxie daretur, indignari acriter non subiectis hominibus liberis et maioribus hisque, a quibus genitus est, multisque praeterea prudentioribus non ad nutum voluntatis obtemperantibus feriendo nocere niti quantum potest, quia non oboeditur imperiis quibus perniciose oboediretur? ita inbecillitas membrorum infantilium innocens est, non animus infantium. vidi ego et expertus sum zelantem parvulum: nondum loquebatur et intuebatur pallidus amaro aspectu conlactaneum suum.

Or were even those things good for the time—by weeping to ask even for what would be given to his harm, to be sharply indignant at persons not subject, the free and the elders and those by whom he was begotten, and to strive, as far as he can, to harm by striking many others besides, more prudent ones, because they do not obey at the nod of his will—because commands are not obeyed which it would be pernicious to obey? Thus the weakness of infant limbs is innocent, not the mind of infants. I have seen, and I have experienced, a little child jealous: he was not yet speaking, and he looked, pale with a bitter aspect, upon his co-nursling.

quis hoc ignorat? expiare se dicunt ista matres atque nutrices nescio quibus remediis. nisi vero et ista innocentia est, in fonte lactis ubertim manante atque abundante opis egentissimum et illo adhuc uno alimento vitam ducentem consortem non pati.

Who does not know this? Mothers and nurses say they expiate these things by I-know-not-what remedies. Unless, to be sure, this too is innocence: at the fountain of milk flowing copiously and abounding, not to tolerate a sharer—one most destitute of aid and still sustaining life by that single aliment.

sed blande tolerantur haec, non quia nulla vel parva, sed quia aetatis accessu peritura sunt. quod licet probes, cum ferri aequo animo eadem ipsa non possunt quando in aliquo annosiore deprehenduntur.

but these things are gently tolerated, not because they are nonexistent or slight, but because they are destined to perish with the advance of age; which you may prove, since these very same things cannot be borne with equanimity when they are apprehended in someone more advanced in years.

1.7.12

tu itaque, domine deus meus, qui dedisti vitam infanti et corpus, quod ita, ut videmus, instruxisti sensibus, compegisti membris, figura decorasti proque eius universitate atque incolumitate omnes conatus animantis insinuasti, iubes me laudare te in istis et confiteri tibi et psallere nomini tuo, altissime, quia deus es omnipotens et bonus, etiamsi sola ista fecisses, quae nemo alius potest facere nisi tu, une, a quo est omnis modus, formosissime, qui formas omnia et lege tua ordinas omnia. hanc ergo aetatem, domine, quam me vixisse non memini, de qua aliis credidi et quam me egisse ex aliis infantibus conieci, quamquam ista multum fida coniectura sit, piget me adnumerare huic vitae meae quam vivo in hoc saeculo. quantum enim attinet ad oblivionis meae tenebras, par illi est quam vixi in matris utero.

You therefore, Lord my God, who gave life to the infant and a body, which, as we see, you have equipped with senses, jointed with members, adorned with figure, and, for its universality and soundness, have instilled all the endeavors of the living being, you bid me to praise you in these things and to confess to you and to psalm to your name, Most High, because you are God omnipotent and good, even if you had done these things alone, which no one else can do save you, One, from whom is every measure, Most Beautiful, who form all things and by your law order all things. Therefore this age, Lord, which I do not remember to have lived, concerning which I have believed others, and what I did in it I have conjectured from other infants—although that conjecture is very faithful—it irks me to number to this my life which I live in this age. For, as far as pertains to the darkness of my oblivion, it is equal to that which I lived in my mother’s womb.

quod si et in iniquitate conceptus sum et in peccatis mater mea me in utero aluit, ubi, oro te, deus meus, ubi, domine, ego, servus tuus, ubi aut quando innocens fui? sed ecce omitto illud tempus: et quid mihi iam cum eo est, cuius nulla vestigia recolo?

But if both in iniquity I was conceived and in sins my mother nourished me in the womb, where, I beg you, my God, where, Lord, I, your servant, where or when was I innocent? But behold, I omit that time: and what have I now to do with it, of which I recall no vestiges?

1.8.13

nonne ab infantia huc pergens veni in pueritiam? vel potius ipsa in me venit et successit infantiae? nec discessit illa: quo enim abiit?

Did I not, proceeding from infancy hither, come into boyhood? Or rather did it itself come into me and succeed infancy? Nor did that depart: for whither, indeed, did it go?

et tamen iam non erat. non enim eram infans qui non farer, sed iam puer loquens eram. et memini hoc, et unde loqui didiceram post adverti.

and yet already it was no more. for I was not an infant, a non-speaker, but already I was a speaking boy. and I remember this, and afterward I noticed whence I had learned to speak.

non enim docebant me maiores homines, praebentes mihi verba certo aliquo ordine doctrinae sicut paulo post litteras, sed ego ipse mente quam dedisti mihi, deus meus, cum gemitibus et vocibus variis et variis membrorum motibus edere vellem sensa cordis mei, ut voluntati pareretur, nec valerem quae volebam omnia nec quibus volebam omnibus, prensabam memoria. cum ipsi appellabant rem aliquam et cum secundum eam vocem corpus ad aliquid movebant, videbam et tenebam hoc ab eis vocari rem illam quod sonabant cum eam vellent ostendere. hoc autem eos velle ex motu corporis aperiebatur tamquam verbis naturalibus omnium gentium, quae fiunt vultu et nutu oculorum ceterorumque membrorum actu et sonitu vocis indicante affectionem animi in petendis, habendis, reiciendis fugiendisve rebus.

for the older people were not teaching me, furnishing me words in some fixed order of doctrine as, a little later, they did the letters; rather I myself, with the mind that you gave me, my God, with groans and various voices and various movements of my limbs, wished to put forth the sentiments of my heart, so that my will might be obeyed; and I was not able to convey all the things I wished, nor to all those to whom I wished—I was clutching them in memory. When they themselves named some thing, and, in accordance with that voice, moved their body toward something, I saw and grasped that that thing was called by them by the sound they uttered when they wished to show it. And that this was their will was made plain by the motion of the body, as though by the natural words of all nations: which are made by the face and the nod of the eyes and the act of the other members, and by the sound of the voice indicating the affection of the mind in petitioning, possessing, rejecting, or fleeing things.

ita verba in variis sententiis locis suis posita et crebro audita quarum rerum signa essent paulatim conligebam measque iam voluntates edomito in eis signis ore per haec enuntiabam. sic cum his inter quos eram voluntatum enuntiandarum signa communicavi, et vitae humanae procellosam societatem altius ingressus sum, pendens ex parentum auctoritate nutuque maiorum hominum.

Thus I was gradually collecting that the words, placed in their proper places in various sentences and often heard, were the signs of things, and I now enunciated my volitions through these, with my mouth tamed to those signs. Thus I communicated the signs for the enunciation of wills with those among whom I was, and I entered more deeply into the storm-tossed society of human life, depending on the authority of my parents and the nod of elder men.

1.9.14

deus, deus meus, quas ibi miserias expertus sum et ludificationes, quandoquidem recte mihi vivere puero id proponebatur, obtemperare monentibus, ut in hoc saeculo florerem et excellerem linguosis artibus ad honorem hominum et falsas divitias famulantibus. inde in scholam datus sum ut discerem litteras, in quibus quid utilitatis esset ignorabam miser. et tamen, si segnis in discendo essem, vapulabam.

God, my God, what miseries and mockeries I experienced there, since to live rightly was proposed to me, a boy, to obey those advising, so that in this age I might flourish and excel in linguistic arts serving the honor of men and false riches. Thence I was given into school to learn letters, in which what utility there was I, wretched, did not know. And yet, if I was sluggish in learning, I was flogged.

laudabatur enim hoc a maioribus, et multi ante nos vitam istam agentes praestruxerant aerumnosas vias, per quas transire cogebamur multiplicato labore et dolore filiis Adam. invenimus autem, domine, homines rogantes te et didicimus ab eis, sentientes te, ut poteramus, esse magnum aliquem qui posses etiam non apparens sensibus nostris exaudire nos et subvenire nobis. nam puer coepi rogare te, auxilium et refugium meum, et in tuam invocationem rumpebam nodos linguae meae et rogabam te parvus non parvo affectu, ne in schola vapularem.

for this was lauded by the elders, and many before us, living this life, had paved the aerumnous ways, through which we were compelled to pass, with labor and pain multiplied for the sons of Adam. but we found, O Lord, men beseeching you, and we learned from them—sensing you, as we could—to be some great one who could, even not appearing to our senses, hear us and succor us. for as a boy I began to beseech you, my help and my refuge, and at your invocation I would break the knots of my tongue, and I, small, with no small affection, begged you that I might not be flogged in school.

et cum me non exaudiebas, quod non erat ad insipientiam mihi, ridebantur a maioribus hominibus usque ab ipsis parentibus, qui mihi accidere mali nihil volebant, plagae meae, magnum tunc et grave malum meum.

and when you did not hearken to me, which was not unto my insipience, my beatings—my great and grave evil then—were laughed at by elder men, even by my very parents, who wished that no evil should befall me.

1.9.15

estne quisquam, domine, tam magnus animus, praegrandi affectu tibi cohaerens, estne, inquam, quisquam (facit enim hoc quaedam etiam stoliditas: est ergo), qui tibi pie cohaerendo ita sit affectus granditer, ut eculeos et ungulas atque huiuscemodi varia tormenta (pro quibus effugiendis tibi per universas terras cum timore magno supplicatur) ita parvi aestimet, diligens eos qui haec acerbissime formidant, quemadmodum parentes nostri ridebant tormenta quibus pueri a magistris affligebamur? non enim aut minus ea metuebamus aut minus te de his evadendis deprecabamur, et peccabamus tamen minus scribendo aut legendo aut cogitando de litteris quam exigebatur a nobis. non enim deerat, domine, memoria vel ingenium, quae nos habere voluisti pro illa aetate satis, sed delectabat ludere et vindicabatur in nos ab eis qui talia utique agebant.

Is there anyone, Lord, of so great a spirit, cleaving to you with an exceedingly great affection, is there, I say, anyone (for a certain stolidness also does this: therefore there is), who by piously cleaving to you is so mightily disposed as to esteem of little account racks and claws and various torments of this sort (for the evasion of which throughout all lands men with great fear make supplication to you), loving those who most bitterly dread these things, just as our parents laughed at the torments by which, as boys, we were afflicted by our masters? For neither did we fear them less, nor did we less beseech you to escape from them, and yet we were at fault by writing or reading or thinking about letters less than was demanded of us. For memory or talent was not lacking, Lord—things which you willed us to have sufficiently for that age—but it delighted us to play, and punishment was exacted upon us by those who assuredly were themselves doing such things.

sed maiorum nugae negotia vocantur, puerorum autem talia cum sint, puniuntur a maioribus, et nemo miseratur pueros vel illos vel utrosque. nisi vero approbat quisquam bonus rerum arbiter vapulasse me, quia ludebam pila puer et eo ludo impediebar quominus celeriter discerem litteras, quibus maior deformius luderem. aut aliud faciebat idem ipse a quo vapulabam, qui si in aliqua quaestiuncula a condoctore suo victus esset, magis bile atque invidia torqueretur quam ego, cum in certamine pilae a conlusore meo superabar?

but the trifles of the elders are called business, while when such things belong to boys, they are punished by the elders, and no one pities the boys—either them, or both parties. Unless, to be sure, some good judge of things approves that I was beaten because, as a boy, I played at ball and by that play was hindered from learning letters quickly—letters with which, as a grown man, I would play more disgracefully. Or was that very same person who beat me doing anything other than I, he who, if in some little question he had been vanquished by his co-learner, would be more wracked by bile and envy than I was when in a contest of ball I was outdone by my playmate?

1.10.16

et tamen peccabam, domine deus, ordinator et creator rerum omnium naturalium, peccatorum autem tantum ordinator, domine deus meus, peccabam faciendo contra praecepta parentum et magistrorum illorum. poteram enim postea bene uti litteris, quas volebant ut discerem quocumque animo illi mei. non enim meliora eligens inoboediens eram, sed amore ludendi, amans in certaminibus superbas victorias et scalpi aures meas falsis fabellis, quo prurirent ardentius, eadem curiositate magis magisque per oculos emicante in spectacula, ludos maiorum -- quos tamen qui edunt, ea dignitate praediti excellunt, ut hoc paene omnes optent parvulis suis, quos tamen caedi libenter patiuntur, si spectaculis talibus impediantur ab studio quo eos ad talia edenda cupiunt pervenire.

and yet I was sinning, Lord God, ordainer and creator of all natural things, but of sins only an ordainer, Lord my God; I was sinning by doing against the precepts of my parents and those teachers. For I could afterward make good use of the letters which they wanted me to learn, with whatever mind those who were mine had. For I was not disobedient by choosing better things, but from a love of playing, loving in contests proud victories and to have my ears scratched by false little fables, so that they might itch the more ardently, with the same curiosity more and more flashing forth through the eyes toward spectacles, the games of the elders — which, however, those who put them on excel at, endowed with such dignity that almost all wish this for their little ones — whom nevertheless they gladly allow to be beaten, if by such shows they are hindered from the study by which they desire them to arrive at producing such things.

vide ista, domine, misericorditer, et libera nos iam invocantes te, libera etiam eos qui nondum te invocant, ut invocent te et liberes eos.

Look upon these things, Lord, mercifully, and free us who now invoke you, free also those who do not yet invoke you, that they may invoke you and you may free them.

1.11.17 commentary on 1.11.17

audieram enim ego adhuc puer de vita aeterna promissa nobis per humilitatem domini dei nostri descendentis ad superbiam nostram, et signabar iam signo crucis eius, et condiebar eius sale iam inde ab utero matris meae, quae multum speravit in te. vidisti, domine, cum adhuc puer essem et quodam die pressu stomachi repente aestuarem paene moriturus, vidisti, deus meus, quoniam custos meus iam eras, quo motu animi et qua fide baptismum Christi tui, dei et domini mei, flagitavi a pietate matris meae et matris omnium nostrum, ecclesiae tuae. et conturbata mater carnis meae, quoniam et sempiternam salutem meam carius parturiebat corde casto in fide tua, iam curaret festinabunda ut sacramentis salutaribus initiarer et abluerer, te, domine Iesu, confitens in remissionem peccatorum, nisi statim recreatus essem. dilata est itaque mundatio mea, quasi necesse esset ut adhuc sordidarer si viverem, quia videlicet post lavacrum illud maior et periculosior in sordibus delictorum reatus foret.

for I had heard, still a boy, of the eternal life promised to us through the humility of the Lord our God descending to our pride, and I was already being signed with the sign of his cross, and I was being seasoned with his salt from the womb of my mother, who placed much hope in you. you saw, Lord, when I was still a boy and on a certain day, under a pressure of the stomach, I suddenly burned with fever, almost about to die; you saw, my God, since you already were my guardian, with what movement of soul and with what faith I importunately demanded from the piety of my mother and of the mother of us all, your Church, the baptism of your Christ, my God and Lord. and the mother of my flesh was disturbed, because she was in her chaste heart in your faith bringing me to birth more dearly for eternal salvation, and she was now busied in haste that I might be initiated with the saving sacraments and be washed, confessing you, Lord Jesus, for the remission of sins, unless I were straightway restored. therefore my cleansing was deferred, as though it were necessary that I should still be soiled if I lived; since, forsooth, after that laver the liability in the filths of delicts would be greater and more perilous.

ita iam credebam et illa et omnis domus, nisi pater solus, qui tamen non evicit in me ius maternae pietatis, quominus in Christum crederem, sicut ille nondum crediderat. nam illa satagebat ut tu mihi pater esses, deus meus, potius quam ille, et in hoc adiuvabas eam, ut superaret virum, cui melior serviebat, quia et in hoc tibi utique id iubenti serviebat.

Thus already I believed, and so did she and the whole household, except only my father, who nevertheless did not overrule in me the right of maternal piety so as to prevent my believing in Christ, as he had not yet believed. For she was striving that you should be a father to me, my God, rather than he; and in this you were aiding her, that she might overcome her husband, whom, as the better, she served, because even in this she was surely serving you, who command that.

1.11.18

rogo te, deus meus: vellem scire, si tu etiam velles, quo consilio dilatus sum ne tunc baptizarer, utrum bono meo mihi quasi laxata sint lora peccandi. an non laxata sunt? unde ergo etiam nunc de aliis atque aliis sonat undique in auribus nostris: 'sine illum, faciat: nondum enim baptizatus est'? et tamen in salute corporis non dicimus: 'sine vulneretur amplius: nondum enim sanatus est.' quanto ergo melius et cito sanarer et id ageretur mecum meorum meaque diligentia, ut recepta salus animae meae tuta esset tutela tua, qui dedisses eam.

I ask you, my God: I would wish to know, if you also would will it, by what counsel I was deferred so that I was not then baptized—whether, for my good, the reins of sinning were, as it were, loosened for me. Or were they not loosened? Whence, then, even now from this one and that one there sounds on every side in our ears: 'Let him be, let him do it: for he is not yet baptized'? And yet, in the health of the body we do not say: 'Let him be wounded further: for he is not yet healed.' How much better, then, that I should have been quickly healed, and that that matter should have been transacted with me by the diligence of my own and by my own diligence, so that, once the salvation of my soul had been recovered, it might be safe under your tutelage—you who had given it.

melius vero. sed quot et quanti fluctus impendere temptationum post pueritiam videbantur, noverat eos iam illa mater et terram per eos, unde postea formarer, quam ipsam iam effigiem committere volebat.

Better indeed. But how many and how great waves of temptations seemed to impend after boyhood, that mother already knew them, and the soil through them, whence I would afterwards be formed, to which she wished to commit the very effigy.

1.12.19

in ipsa tamen pueritia, de qua mihi minus quam de adulescentia metuebatur, non amabam litteras et me in eas urgeri oderam, et urgebar tamen et bene mihi fiebat. nec faciebam ego bene (non enim discerem nisi cogerer; nemo autem invitus bene facit, etiamsi bonum est quod facit), nec qui me urgebant bene faciebant, sed bene mihi fiebat abs te, deus meus. illi enim non intuebantur quo referrem quod me discere cogebant, praeterquam ad satiandas insatiabiles cupiditates copiosae inopiae et ignominiosae gloriae.

yet in childhood itself, about which less was feared for me than about adolescence, I did not love letters and I hated being urged into them; and yet I was urged, and good was being done to me. Nor did I act well (for I would not learn unless I were compelled; and no one, however, does well unwillingly, even if what he does is good), nor did those who urged me act well, but good was being done to me by you, my God. For they did not consider to what end I should refer what they compelled me to learn, except for satiating the insatiable cupidities of copious indigence and of ignominious glory.

tu vero, cui numerati sunt capilli nostri, errore omnium qui mihi instabant ut discerem utebaris ad utilitatem meam, meo autem, qui discere nolebam, utebaris ad poenam meam, qua plecti non eram indignus, tantillus puer et tantus peccator. ita de non bene facientibus tu bene faciebas mihi et de peccante me ipso iuste retribuebas mihi. iussisti enim et sic est, ut poena sua sibi sit omnis inordinatus animus.

But you indeed, to whom our hairs are numbered, were using the error of all who pressed me to learn for my utility; and my own (error), since I was unwilling to learn, you were using for my punishment, by which I was not unworthy to be chastised—so tiny a boy and so great a sinner. Thus from those not doing well you were doing well to me, and from me myself sinning you were justly retributing to me. For you have commanded, and so it is, that every inordinate soul is its own punishment.

1.13.20

quid autem erat causae cur graecas litteras oderam, quibus puerulus imbuebar? ne nunc quidem mihi satis exploratum est. adamaveram enim latinas, non quas primi magistri sed quas docent qui grammatici vocantur.

But what was the cause why I hated Greek letters, with which, as a little boy, I was being imbued? Not even now is it sufficiently made clear to me. For I had fallen in love with Latin, not the kind which the first teachers teach, but the kind which those who are called grammarians teach.

nam illas primas, ubi legere et scribere et numerare discitur, non minus onerosas poenalesque habebam quam omnes graecas. unde tamen et hoc nisi de peccato et vanitate vitae, qua caro eram et spiritus ambulans et non revertens? nam utique meliores, quia certiores, erant primae illae litterae quibus fiebat in me et factum est et habeo illud ut et legam, si quid scriptum invenio, et scribam ipse, si quid volo, quam illae quibus tenere cogebar Aeneae nescio cuius errores, oblitus errorum meorum, et plorare Didonem mortuam, quia se occidit ab amore, cum interea me ipsum in his a te morientem, deus, vita mea, siccis oculis ferrem miserrimus.

for those first rudiments, where one learns to read and to write and to reckon, I used to regard as no less onerous and penal than all Greek. whence, however, even this, if not from the sin and vanity of life, in which I was flesh and a spirit walking and not returning? for surely better, because more certain, were those first letters by which there came to be in me—and it has been brought to pass, and I have this—that I both read, if I find something written, and I myself write, if I wish anything, than those by which I was forced to hold fast the wanderings of some I-know-not-what Aeneas, forgetful of my own errors, and to weep for Dido dead, because she killed herself from love, while meanwhile I, most wretched, with dry eyes endured myself in these things dying away from you, O God, my life.

1.13.21

quid enim miserius misero non miserante se ipsum et flente Didonis mortem, quae fiebat amando Aenean, non flente autem mortem suam, quae fiebat non amando te, deus, lumen cordis mei et panis oris intus animae meae et virtus maritans mentem meam et sinum cogitationis meae? non te amabam, et fornicabar abs te, et fornicanti sonabat undique: 'euge! euge!' amicitia enim mundi huius fornicatio est abs te et 'euge!

for what is more miserable than a miserable man not pitying himself, and weeping for Dido’s death, which was being brought about by loving Aeneas, but not weeping for his own death, which was being brought about by not loving you, God, light of my heart and bread of the inner mouth of my soul, and the virtue wedding my mind with the bosom of my thought? I did not love you, and I was fornicating away from you, and to the fornicator there sounded on every side: 'bravo! bravo!' for the friendship of this world is fornication away from you, and 'bravo!

euge!' dicitur ut pudeat, si non ita homo sit. et haec non flebam, et flebam Didonem extinctam ferroque extrema secutam, sequens ipse extrema condita tua relicto te et terra iens in terram. et si prohiberer ea legere, dolerem, quia non legerem quod dolerem.

‘Bravo!’ is said, that it may cause shame if a man be not thus. And these things I did not weep over, yet I wept for Dido extinguished, and with iron pursuing the last extremities, while I myself was pursuing extremities, your ordinances (condita) left behind, leaving you, and going from earth into earth. And if I were forbidden to read those things, I would grieve, because I would not read what I should grieve at.

tali dementia honestiores et uberiores litterae putantur quam illae quibus legere et scribere didici.

By such madness, letters are considered more honorable and more abundant than those by which I learned to read and to write.

1.13.22

sed nunc in anima mea clamet deus meus, et veritas tua dicat mihi, 'non est ita, non est ita.' melior est prorsus doctrina illa prior. nam ecce paratior sum oblivisci errores Aeneae atque omnia eius modi quam scribere et legere. at enim vela pendent liminibus grammaticarum scholarum, sed non illa magis honorem secreti quam tegimentum erroris significant.

But now in my soul let my God cry out, and let your truth say to me, 'it is not so, it is not so.' That earlier doctrine is altogether better. For behold, I am more ready to forget the errors of Aeneas and all things of that kind than how to write and read. And yet veils hang at the thresholds of the grammatical schools, but those signify not so much the honor of secrecy as the covering of error.

non clament adversus me quos iam non timeo, dum confiteor tibi quae vult anima mea, deus meus, et adquiesco in reprehensione malarum viarum mearum, ut diligam bonas vias tuas, non clament adversus me venditores grammaticae vel emptores, quia, si proponam eis interrogans, utrum verum sit quod Aenean aliquando Carthaginem venisse poeta dicit, indoctiores nescire se respondebunt, doctiores autem etiam negabunt verum esse. at si quaeram quibus litteris scribatur Aeneae nomen, omnes mihi qui haec didicerunt verum respondent secundum id pactum et placitum quo inter se homines ista signa firmarunt. item si quaeram quid horum maiore vitae huius incommodo quisque obliviscatur, legere et scribere an poetica illa figmenta, quis non videat quid responsurus sit, qui non est penitus oblitus sui?

let not those whom I no longer fear cry out against me, while I confess to you what my soul wills, my God, and I acquiesce in the reprehension of my evil ways, that I may love your good ways; let not the sellers or buyers of grammar cry out against me, because, if I should set before them by asking whether it is true what the poet says, that Aeneas at some time came to Carthage, the less learned will reply that they do not know, but the more learned will even deny that it is true. but if I ask with which letters the name of Aeneas is written, all who have learned these things will answer me truly, according to that pact and placitum by which men among themselves have ratified those signs. likewise, if I ask which of these each would forget with the greater incommodity of this life—reading and writing, or those poetic figments—who does not see what he would answer, who has not utterly forgotten himself?

peccabam ergo puer cum illa inania istis utilioribus amore praeponebam, vel potius ista oderam, illa amabam. iam vero unum et unum duo, duo et duo quattuor, odiosa cantio mihi erat, et dulcissimum spectaculum vanitatis, equus ligneus plenus armatis et Troiae incendium atque ipsius umbra Creusae.

I was sinning therefore as a boy when, for love, I preferred those empty things to these more useful ones, or rather I hated these, I loved those. But indeed “one and one two, two and two four” was a hateful chant to me, while the sweetest spectacle of vanity was the wooden horse full of the armed, and the conflagration of Troy, and Creusa’s very shade.

1.14.23

cur ergo graecam etiam grammaticam oderam talia cantantem? nam et Homerus peritus texere tales fabellas et dulcissime vanus est, mihi tamen amarus erat puero. credo etiam graecis pueris Vergilius ita sit, cum eum sic discere coguntur ut ego illum.

Why, then, did I also hate Greek grammar, singing such things? For Homer too, skilled to weave such little fables and most sweetly vain, was nevertheless bitter to me as a boy. I believe that to Greek boys as well Vergil is so, when they are compelled thus to learn him as I was.

videlicet difficultas, difficultas omnino ediscendae linguae peregrinae, quasi felle aspergebat omnes suavitates graecas fabulosarum narrationum. nulla enim verba illa noveram, et saevis terroribus ac poenis ut nossem instabatur mihi vehementer. nam et latina aliquando infans utique nulla noveram, et tamen advertendo didici sine ullo metu atque cruciatu, inter etiam blandimenta nutricum et ioca adridentium et laetitias adludentium.

namely, the difficulty—the difficulty altogether of learning by heart a foreign language—was, as if with gall, sprinkling all the Greek sweetnesses of fabulous narrations. For I knew none of those words, and with savage terrors and punishments it was vehemently pressed upon me that I should know them. For even Latin, once, as an infant, I certainly knew none at all, and yet by adverting I learned it without any fear or torment, amid also the blandishments of nurses and the jests of those smiling upon me and the joys of those playing with me.

didici vero illa sine poenali onere urgentium, cum me urgeret cor meum ad parienda concepta sua, † et qua † non esset, nisi aliqua verba didicissem non a docentibus sed a loquentibus, in quorum et ego auribus parturiebam quidquid sentiebam. hinc satis elucet maiorem habere vim ad discenda ista liberam curiositatem quam meticulosam necessitatem. sed illius fluxum haec restringit legibus tuis, deus, legibus tuis a magistrorum ferulis usque ad temptationes martyrum, valentibus legibus tuis miscere salubres amaritudines revocantes nos ad te a iucunditate pestifera qua recessimus a te.

I indeed learned those things without the penal burden of those pressing, when my heart was pressing me to bring forth its own conceptions, † and which † would not have come to be, unless I had learned some words not from those teaching but from those speaking, in whose ears I too was in labor with whatever I felt. Hence it is sufficiently evident that free curiosity has greater force for learning these things than timorous necessity. But its flow these things restrain by your laws, God, by your laws from the teachers’ ferules even to the temptations of martyrs, by your prevailing laws mixing salutary bitternesses, calling us back to you from the pestiferous pleasantness by which we have withdrawn from you.

1.15.24

exaudi, domine, deprecationem meam, ne deficiat anima mea sub disciplina tua neque deficiam in confitendo tibi miserationes tuas, quibus eruisti me ab omnibus viis meis pessimis, ut dulcescas mihi super omnes seductiones quas sequebar, et amem te validissime, et amplexer manum tuam totis praecordiis meis, et eruas me ab omni temptatione usque in finem. ecce enim tu, domine, rex meus et deus meus, tibi serviat quidquid utile puer didici, tibi serviat quod loquor et scribo et lego et numero, quoniam cum vana discerem tu disciplinam dabas mihi, et in eis vanis peccata delectationum mearum dimisisti mihi. didici enim in eis multa verba utilia, sed et in rebus non vanis disci possunt, et ea via tuta est in qua pueri ambularent.

Hear, Lord, my supplication, let not my soul fail under your discipline, nor let me fail in confessing to you your mercies, by which you have rescued me from all my very worst ways, that you may become sweet to me above all the seductions which I was following, and that I may love you most strongly, and let me embrace your hand with all my inmost parts, and deliver me from every temptation even to the end. Behold, indeed, you, Lord, my king and my God, let whatever useful thing I learned as a boy serve you, let what I speak and write and read and count serve you, since when I was learning vanities you were giving me discipline, and in those vanities you forgave me the sins of my pleasures. For in them I learned many useful words, but they also can be learned in matters not vain, and that path is safe on which boys might walk.

1.16.25

sed vae tibi, flumen moris humani! quis resistet tibi? quamdiu non siccaberis?

but woe to you, river of human custom! who will resist you? how long will you not be dried up?

quousque volves Evae filios in mare magnum et formidulosum, quod vix transeunt qui lignum conscenderint? nonne ego in te legi et tonantem Iovem et adulterantem? et utique non posset haec duo, sed actum est ut haberet auctoritatem ad imitandum verum adulterium lenocinante falso tonitru.

how long will you roll the sons of Eve into the great and fearsome sea, which scarcely those pass who have mounted the wood? did I not read in you both Jupiter thundering and committing adultery? and assuredly he could not do these two, but it was contrived that real adultery should have authority to be imitated, with false thunder playing the pimp.

quis autem paenulatorum magistrorum audit aure sobria ex eodem pulvere hominem clamantem et dicentem: 'fingebat haec Homerus et humana ad deos transferebat: divina mallem ad nos'? sed verius dicitur quod fingebat haec quidem ille, sed hominibus flagitiosis divina tribuendo, ne flagitia flagitia putarentur et ut, quisquis ea fecisset, non homines perditos sed caelestes deos videretur imitatus.

But which of the cloak-wearing teachers listens with a sober ear to a man from the same dust crying out and saying: 'Homer was feigning these things and was transferring human things to the gods: I would rather that the divine be transferred to us'? But it is said more truly that he indeed was feigning these things, yet by attributing divine things to flagitious men, lest flagitious deeds be thought flagitious, and so that whoever had done them might seem to have imitated not lost men but celestial gods.

1.16.26

et tamen, o flumen tartareum, iactantur in te filii hominum cum mercedibus, ut haec discant, et magna res agitur cum hoc agitur publice in foro, in conspectu legum supra mercedem salaria decernentium, et saxa tua percutis et sonas dicens: 'hinc verba discuntur, hinc adquiritur eloquentia, rebus persuadendis sententiisque explicandis maxime necessaria.' ita vero non cognosceremus verba haec, 'imbrem aureum' et 'gremium' et 'fucum' et 'templa caeli' et alia verba quae in eo loco scripta sunt, nisi Terentius induceret nequam adulescentem proponentem sibi Iovem ad exemplum stupri, dum spectat tabulam quandam pictam in pariete ubi inerat pictura haec, Iovem quo pacto Danae misisse aiunt in gremium quondam imbrem aureum, fucum factum mulieri? et vide quemadmodum se concitat ad libidinem quasi caelesti magisterio: 'at quem deum! inquit qui templa caeli summo sonitu concutit.

and yet, O Tartarean river, the sons of men are tossed into you along with fees, that they may learn these things; and a great matter is transacted when this is done publicly in the forum, in the sight of laws decreeing salaries beyond the fee, and you strike your rocks and resound, saying: 'from here words are learned, from here eloquence is acquired, most necessary for persuading matters and for expounding sentences.' thus indeed we would not know these words, 'golden shower' and 'lap' and 'fucus' and 'temples of heaven' and other words that are written in that place, unless Terence were to bring on a good-for-nothing adolescent proposing Jove to himself as an example of defilement, while he looks at a certain painted panel on the wall where this picture was, how they say Jove once sent into Danae’s lap a golden shower—was a trick done upon the woman? and see how he rouses himself to libido as if by a celestial magistery: 'but what a god! he says who with the highest thunderclap shakes the temples of heaven.

ego homuncio id non facerem? ego vero illud feci ac libens.' non omnino per hanc turpitudinem verba ista commodius discuntur, sed per haec verba turpitudo ista confidentius perpetratur. non accuso verba quasi vasa electa atque pretiosa, sed vinum erroris quod in eis nobis propinabatur ab ebriis doctoribus, et nisi biberemus caedebamur, nec appellare ad aliquem iudicem sobrium licebat.

‘I, a homunculus, would not do that? I indeed did that, and gladly.’ Not at all are those words learned more commodiously through this turpitude, but through these words that turpitude is perpetrated more confidently. I do not accuse words, as if they were chosen and precious vessels, but the wine of error which in them was being proffered to us by inebriated doctors; and unless we drank, we were beaten, nor was it permitted to appeal to any sober judge.

et tamen ego, deus meus, in cuius conspectu iam secura est recordatio mea, libenter haec didici, et eis delectabar miser, et ob hoc bonae spei puer appellabar.

And yet I, my God, in whose sight my recordation is now secure, willingly learned these things, and wretched, I took delight in them, and on account of this I was called a boy of good hope.

1.17.27

sine me, deus meus, dicere aliquid et de ingenio meo, munere tuo, in quibus a me deliramentis atterebatur. proponebatur enim mihi negotium, animae meae satis inquietum praemio laudis et dedecoris vel plagarum metu, ut dicerem verba Iunonis irascentis et dolentis quod non posset Italia Teucrorum avertere regem, quae numquam Iunonem dixisse audieram. sed figmentorum poeticorum vestigia errantes sequi cogebamur, et tale aliquid dicere solutis verbis quale poeta dixisset versibus.

let me, my God, say something also about my ingenium, your gift, in which, by my delirious follies, it was being worn down. for a task was set before me—quite disquieting to my soul—with the reward of praise and the fear of disgrace or even of stripes, that I should speak the words of Juno, growing angry and grieving because she could not turn away from Italy the king of the Teucrians, words which I had never heard that Juno had said. but we were compelled, wandering, to follow the vestiges of poetic figments, and to say something in loosed words such as the poet had said in verses.

et ille dicebat laudabilius in quo pro dignitate adumbratae personae irae ac doloris similior affectus eminebat, verbis sententias congruenter vestientibus. ut quid mihi illud, o vera vita, deus meus, quod mihi recitanti adclamabatur prae multis coaetaneis et conlectoribus meis? nonne ecce illa omnia fumus et ventus?

and that one was speaking more laudably in whom, in proportion to the dignity of the adumbrated person, an affect more like anger and grief stood out, with words congruently vesting the sentences. What was that to me, O true Life, my God, that which was acclaimed to me as I recited before many of my coevals and my fellow-collectors? Behold, are not all those things smoke and wind?

itane aliud non erat ubi exerceretur ingenium et lingua mea? laudes tuae, domine, laudes tuae per scripturas tuas suspenderent palmitem cordis mei, et non raperetur per inania nugarum turpis praeda volatilibus. non enim uno modo sacrificatur transgressoribus angelis.

Was there then nothing else where my ingenium and my tongue might be exercised? Thy praises, Lord, thy praises through thy Scriptures would have suspended the vine-shoot of my heart, and it would not have been snatched away through the empty trifles of triflings as foul prey by the winged beings. For not in one way is sacrifice offered to the transgressing angels.

1.18.28

quid autem mirum, quod in vanitates ita ferebar et a te, deus meus, ibam foras, quando mihi imitandi proponebantur homines qui aliqua facta sua non mala, si cum barbarismo aut soloecismo enuntiarent, reprehensi confundebantur, si autem libidines suas integris et rite consequentibus verbis copiose ornateque narrarent, laudati gloriabantur? vides haec, domine, et taces, longanimis et multum misericors et verax. numquid semper tacebis?

What, moreover, is there to wonder at, that I was thus being borne into vanities and, away from you, my God, was going outward, when men were set before me to be imitated who, if they should enunciate some of their not-bad deeds with a barbarism or a solecism, being reproved were confounded; but if they should narrate their lusts with words intact and duly consequent, copiously and ornately, praised, they gloried? You see these things, Lord, and you are silent, long-suffering and very merciful and veracious. Will you keep silence forever?

et nunc eruis de hoc immanissimo profundo quarerentem te animam et sitientem delectationes tuas, et cuius cor dicit tibi, 'quaesivi vultum tuum.' vultum tuum, domine, requiram: nam longe a vultu tuo in affectu tenebroso. non enim pedibus aut a spatiis locorum itur abs te aut reditur ad te, aut vero filius ille tuus minor equos vel currus vel naves quaesivit, aut avolavit pinna visibili, aut moto poplite iter egit, ut in longinqua regione vivens prodige dissiparet quod dederas proficiscenti, dulcis pater quia dederas, et egeno redeunti dulcior: in affectu ergo libidinoso, id enim est tenebroso, atque id est longe a vultu tuo.

and now you are drawing up out of this most immense abyss the soul that is seeking you and thirsting for your delectations, and whose heart says to you, “I have sought your face.” your face, lord, I will seek: for far from your face in a tenebrous affect. for it is not by feet or by the spaces of places that one goes away from you or returns to you, nor indeed did that younger son of yours seek horses or chariots or ships, or fly away on a visible wing, or make a journey with knee set in motion, so that, living in a far country, he might prodigally dissipate what you had given as he set out—sweet father because you had given it, and sweeter to the needy one returning: in a libidinous affect therefore, for that is what is tenebrous, and that is what is far from your face.

1.18.29

vide, domine deus, et patienter, ut vides, vide quomodo diligenter observent filii hominum pacta litterarum et syllabarum accepta a prioribus locutoribus, et a te accepta aeterna pacta perpetuae salutis neglegant, ut qui illa sonorum vetera placita teneat aut doceat, si contra disciplinam grammaticam sine adspiratione primae syllabae hominem dixerit, magis displiceat hominibus quam si contra tua praecepta hominem oderit, cum sit homo. quasi vero quemlibet inimicum hominem perniciosius sentiat quam ipsum odium quo in eum inritatur, aut vastet quisquam persequendo alium gravius quam cor suum vastat inimicando. et certe non est interior litterarum scientia quam scripta conscientia, id se alteri facere quod nolit pati.

see, Lord God, and patiently—as you see—see how diligently the sons of men observe the pacts of letters and syllables received from prior speakers, and how they neglect the eternal pacts of perpetual salvation received from you: so that one who holds or teaches those ancient conventions of sounds, if he should say “hominem” against grammatical discipline without the aspiration of the first syllable, is more displeasing to men than if, against your precepts, he should hate a man—though he is a man. As though indeed he felt any human enemy more pernicious than the very hatred by which he is provoked against him; or as though anyone devastates, by persecuting another, more grievously than he devastates his own heart by being an enemy. And surely the knowledge of letters is not more inward than the written conscience: not to do to another what he would not wish to suffer.

quam tu secretus es, habitans in excelsis in silentio, deus solus magnus, lege infatigabili spargens poenales caecitates supra inlicitas cupiditates, cum homo eloquentiae famam quaeritans ante hominem iudicem circumstante hominum multitudine inimicum suum odio immanissimo insectans vigilantissime cavet, ne per linguae errorem dicat, 'inter hominibus', et ne per mentis furorem hominem auferat ex hominibus, non cavet.

how secret you are, dwelling in the heights in silence, God alone great, by an indefatigable law scattering penal blindnesses upon illicit cupidities, while a man, seeking the fame of eloquence before a human judge, with a multitude of men standing around, harrying his enemy with most monstrous hatred, most vigilantly takes care not to say, through an error of the tongue, ‘inter hominibus,’ yet not to remove a man from among men through a frenzy of mind, he does not take care.

1.19.30

horum ego puer morum in limine iacebam miser, et huius harenae palaestra erat illa, ubi magis timebam barbarismum facere quam cavebam, si facerem, non facientibus invidere. dico haec et confiteor tibi, deus meus, in quibus laudabar ab eis quibus placere tunc mihi erat honeste vivere. non enim videbam voraginem turpitudinis in quam proiectus eram ab oculis tuis.

Of these mores I, a boy, lay wretched on the threshold, and that was the palestra of this arena, where I feared more to commit a barbarism than I took care not to; and, if I did commit one, I envied those not committing it. I say these things and confess to you, my God, that in these I was being praised by those to please whom then was, for me, to live honorably. For I did not see the voragine of turpitude into which I had been cast from before your eyes.

nam in illis iam quid me foedius fuit, ubi etiam talibus displicebam fallendo innumerabilibus mendaciis et paedagogum et magistros et parentes amore ludendi, studio spectandi nugatoria et imitandi ludicra inquietudine? furta etiam faciebam de cellario parentum et de mensa, vel gula imperitante vel ut haberem quod darem pueris ludum suum mihi quo pariter utique delectabantur tamen vendentibus. in quo etiam ludo fraudulentas victorias ipse vana excellentiae cupiditate victus saepe aucupabar.

for among those things already, what was more foul than me, where even by such things I was displeasing, by deceiving with innumerable lies, to the pedagogue and the masters and my parents, through a love of playing, a zeal for spectating trifles and for imitating theatricals, with a restless disquiet? I also committed thefts from my parents’ cellar and from the table, either with gluttony commanding, or so that I might have what I could give to the boys selling to me their game, by which they too indeed were equally delighted. and in that game as well I myself, conquered by a vain cupidity for excellence, often angled for fraudulent victories.

quid autem tam nolebam pati atque atrociter, si deprehenderem, arguebam, quam id quod aliis faciebam? et, si deprehensus arguerer, saevire magis quam cedere libebat. istane est innocentia puerilis?

And what was there that I was so unwilling to suffer—and which, if I detected it, I would fiercely arraign—than that very thing which I was doing to others? And if, when detected, I was accused, it pleased me more to rage than to yield. Is this puerile innocence?

non est, domine, non est. oro te, deus meus: nam haec ipsa sunt quae a paedagogis et magistris, a nucibus et pilulis et passeribus, ad praefectos et reges, aurum, praedia, mancipia, haec ipsa omnino succedentibus maioribus aetatibus transeunt, sicuti ferulis maiora supplicia succedunt. humilitatis ergo signum in statura pueritiae, rex noster, probasti, cum aisti, 'talium est regnum caelorum.'

it is not, Lord, it is not. I beg you, my God: for these very things are those which, from pedagogues and teachers, from nuts and little balls and sparrows, pass on to prefects and kings—to gold, estates, slaves; these very same things altogether pass over as greater ages succeed, just as greater punishments succeed to the canes. therefore you proved a sign of humility in the stature of childhood, our King, when you said, 'of such is the kingdom of heaven.'

1.20.31

sed tamen, domine, tibi excellentissimo atque optimo conditori et rectori universitatis, deo nostro gratias, etiamsi me puerum tantum esse voluisses. eram enim etiam tunc, vivebam atque sentiebam meamque incolumitatem, vestigium secretissimae unitatis ex qua eram, curae habebam, custodiebam interiore sensu integritatem sensuum meorum inque ipsis parvis parvarumque rerum cogitationibus veritate delectabar. falli nolebam, memoria vigebam, locutione instruebar, amicitia mulcebar, fugiebam dolorem, abiectionem, ignorantiam.

but yet, Lord, to you, the most excellent and best Creator and Rector of the universe, our God, thanks, even if you had willed me to be only a boy. for I was even then; I lived and perceived, and I kept my well‑being— a vestige of the most secret Unity from which I was— in care; I guarded, with an inner sense, the integrity of my senses, and in those very small thoughts and the thoughts of small things I took delight in truth. I did not wish to be deceived, I was vigorous in memory, I was being instructed in locution, I was soothed by friendship, I fled pain, abjection, ignorance.

quid in tali animante non mirabile atque laudabile? at ista omnia dei mei dona sunt. non mihi ego dedi haec, et bona sunt, et haec omnia ego.

What in such an animate being is not marvelous and laudable? But all these are gifts of my God. I did not give myself these, and they are good, and I am all these.

bonus ergo est qui fecit me, et ipse est bonum meum, et illi exulto bonis omnibus quibus etiam puer eram. hoc enim peccabam, quod non in ipso sed in creaturis eius me atque ceteris voluptates, sublimitates, veritates quaerebam, atque ita inruebam in dolores, confusiones, errores. gratias tibi, dulcedo mea et honor meus et fiducia mea, deus meus, gratias tibi de donis tuis: sed tu mihi ea serva.

Therefore he is good who made me, and he himself is my good, and in him I exult in all the goods with which even as a boy I was endowed. For in this I sinned: that not in him but in his creatures I sought pleasures, sublimities, truths; and so I rushed headlong into pains, confusions, errors. Thanks to you, my sweetness and my honor and my confidence, my God; thanks to you for your gifts: but do you preserve them for me.

ita enim servabis me, et augebuntur et perficientur quae dedisti mihi, et ero ipse tecum, quia et ut sim tu dedisti mihi.

For thus you will preserve me, and the things which you have given to me will be augmented and perfected, and I myself shall be with you, since even that I might be you have given to me.

Submitted by James J. O'Donnell (Univ. of Pennsylvania) from his new edition. Prof.

O'Donnell's introduction and commentary may be found at the original site: The Confessions of Augustine: An Electronic Edition