Augustine in His Own Words (continued)
Confessions 25
(7.17) Many years of my life had flowed by—about twelve—since that period in my nineteenth year when, having read the Hortensius of Cicero, I was stirred by the love of wisdom. I continued to put off rejecting worldly happiness so that I might be free to search for that wisdom, whose "mere quest— not to speak of its attainment—should have been preferred to finding treasures and ruling kingdoms and to being surrounded by bodily pleasures at my beck and call."42 Yet as a youth, I was very unhappy, unhappy at the beginnings of adolescence. I even begged You for chastity, saying: "Give me chastity and self-restraint, but not just yet."43 I was afraid that You would quickly hear my prayer, that You would quickly cure me of the disease of lust, something I preferred to have satisfied rather than abolished. And I had walked along crooked ways in sacrilegious superstition, not exactly certain in it, but preferring it in a way to other teaching which I did not search out with sincerity but which I fought against with enmity.
(7.18) I maintained that the reason I was deferring "from day to day" (Sir 5:8) any rejecting of worldly ambition so as to follow You alone was because nothing seemed certain to me, nothing by which I could direct my course. But the day had come for me to be laid bare before myself. . . . When [Ponticianus] finished his conversation and the business which he had come for, he went his way—and I to myself. What did I not say within me? With what lashes of judgment did I not whip my soul that it would follow me, who yearned to follow You? Yet it balked, it refused and made no effort to be excused. . . .
(8.19) Then, in the middle of a huge argument within my inner house, a quarrel I had strongly provoked against my own soul in our bedroom, that is, my heart,44 I rush in upon Alypius—I was wild in looks as much as troubled in mind—and cry out: "What's wrong with us? What does this mean, this story you heard? Unlearned men are rising up and storming heaven (Mt 11:12), while we, we with all our learning without any heart—here we are rolling around in flesh and blood! Is it because they have led the way that we are ashamed to follow, yet are not ashamed of the fact that we are not following?" I said some such words, and then this firestorm of feeling tore me away from him, while he kept silent, terrified as he looked upon me. Not even my voice sounded normal. My forehead, my cheeks, my eyes, my color, the tone
42. "Mere quest . . . beck and call": A quote (or paraphrase) of Cicero, Hortensius, frag. 101. 43. On Augustine's struggles with sexuality and his choice of celibacy in the wake of his conversion, see Peter Brown, The Body and Society: Men, Women, and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity (New York: Columbia University Press, 1988), esp. 387–95.
44. "Bedroom" (cubiculum): The image Augustine plays on here is that of a married couple having a noisy argument in the inner room of their house. Augustine is having a marital spat with his "soul" (anima). See De magistro 1.2 (CCL 29:158–59) in which he quotes Ps 4:4 ("repent on your beds") and speaks of praying "in the secrecy of our 'bedroom' (cubiculum), a term that means 'the inner recesses of the mind.' " See also s. 155.15, where he compares the internal struggle between spirit and flesh to a marital spat (rixa).
of my voice—these gave more indication of my mental condition than did the words I uttered.
A little garden belonged to our residence, and we used it as we did the rest of the house, for our host, the landlord, did not live there. The uproar in my breast carried me out there where no one could hinder the burning struggle which I had entered upon against myself—and to what outcome, You knew, but I did not. Yet my madness was health-restoring and my dying was lifegiving. I was aware of my evil, but I was unaware of the good I would soon come to. So I withdrew to the garden, and Alypius followed my footsteps. There was no lack of privacy for me when he was present. Moreover, how could he leave me alone in such a frame of mind? We sat down as far away from the buildings as possible. I was deeply disturbed in spirit, angered by indignation, distressed at the fact that I had not entered into an agreement and covenant with You, O my God, for all my bones cried out (Ps 34:10) that I should take this step, extolling it to the heavens with praises. . . .
(12.28) Now when a profound self-examination had pulled out from the hidden depths and heaped together the whole of my wretchedness before the gaze of my heart (Ps 18:15), a huge storm arose, bringing a huge downpour of tears. And in order to shed the whole of it, with its accompanying groans, I stood up, away from Alypius (to me solitude seemed more fitting for the business of weeping), and I withdrew to a greater distance so that his presence could be no inhibition to me. That is the way I felt then, and he perceived it. I suppose I said something or other, and the sound of my voice was already weighed down with tears, and so I got up. He stayed where he had been sitting and was much astonished. I threw myself down under a certain fig tree, and let go the reins holding back my tears. They burst forth in rivers from my eyes, an acceptable sacrifice to You (Ps 50:19). Not in these words, but with this meaning, I said many things to You: "And You, O Lord, how long?" (Ps 6:4) "How long, O Lord? Will You be angry to the end?" (Ps 78:5) "Remember not our past iniquities" (Ps 78:8). For I still felt that I was held by them and I uttered these wretched words: "How long, how long this 'tomorrow,' 'tomorrow'? Why not right now? Why not end my shame this very hour?"
(12.29) I kept saying these things and weeping with the bitterest sorrow in this heart of mine. Then suddenly I heard from a nearby house the voice of someone—whether a boy or a girl, I do not know—this sort of sing-song phrase, repeating over and over: "Pick it up, read it! Pick it up, read it!" And immediately, my face, my expression, changed, and I began trying very intensely to think back whether children ever used to chant words like this in some sort of game, and it occurred to me that I had never heard anything like it. Having stemmed the flow of my tears, I got up, taking the words to mean nothing else