King Alfred's Old English Version of St. Augustine's Soliloquies Turned into Modern English · of Hippo Augustine
BOOK I
_R._ _Now consider very earnestly what I formerly said to thee._ _A._ _I will, so much as possible._ _R._ First know of a truth that the mind is the eye of the soul; secondly, thou must know that it is needful for one to see what one looketh at; the fourth is what one would see. For every one having eyes first looketh at that which he would see till he hath beheld it. When he hath beheld it then he truly seeth it. But thou must know that I who now speak with thee am Reason, and I am to every human mind what looking is to the eyes. Three things it behooveth the eyes of every human body to have; the fourth is what it seeketh and would draw to them. One is that thou hast and usest and lovest that which thou formerly didst hope for. [Sidenote: 27.13--29.13] _A._ _Alas! Shall I ever come to that which I hope for, or shall that ever come to me which I desire?_ _R._ Add now love as a third besides faith and hope; for the eyes of no soul are entirely sound--especially to see God with--if lacking these three. Seeing, then, is knowing. _A._ If then there be sound eyes, that is, perfect understanding, what is then wanting to it, or what is more needful?
_R._ What need then is there of faith, when one seeth that which he formerly exercised faith toward, and again knoweth that which he formerly hoped for? But love never waneth--it abideth greatly increased when the understanding is fixed on God; nor hath love ever any end. _Omni consummatione uidi finem; latum mandatum tuum nimis_:[6] _that is, of everything in the world I shall see the end, but the end of thy commandments I shall never see_. That is the love about which he prophesied. But, although the soul be perfect and pure while it is in the body, it can not see God as it desireth, because of the sorrow and tribulation of the body, except with much labor through faith and hope and love. _These are the three anchors which sustain the ship of the mind in the midst of the dashing of the waves. Yet the mind hath much comfort because it believeth and clearly knoweth that the misfortunes and unhappiness of this world are not eternal. So the ship's master,[7] when the ship rideth most unsteadily at anchor and the sea is roughest, then knoweth of a truth that calm weather is coming. Three things are needful to the eyes of each soul: One is that they be whole; the second, that they should look at what they would see; the third, that they may see what they look at. For the three is God's help necessary, for one can neither do good nor any thing without His aid. Therefore He is always to be entreated that He be ever helpful; therefore also He inspireth us and inciteth us first to be well-wishing, and afterwards worketh with us that which He willeth till such time as we perfect it with Him; and especially He worketh with us as with some powerful tool, just as it is written[8] that with each well-working person God is a co-worker. We know that no man can perform any good unless God work with him; howbeit no man must be so idle as not to begin something through the strength that God giveth him._
_R._ _Well thou remindest me; I will do for thee what I promised._ Call to mind now that thou canst see with thy body's eyes three things in regard to the sun: One is that it existeth; another, that it shineth; the third, that it lighteth up many things with its shining. _All the things which are bright, when the sun shineth on them, shine against it, each after its own kind. But those things which are not bright shine not against the sun, although it shineth on them. But the sun shineth, nevertheless, on them, and yet he who looketh toward it can not see it wholly just as it is. All this and more thou canst observe concerning God. He is the high Sun. He always abideth, lighting up with His own light both the sun which we see with bodily eyes and all creatures both spiritual and terrestrial. Therefore he seemeth to me a very foolish man who wisheth to understand Him just as He is, while we are yet in this world. Behold! I suppose that no one is so foolish that he becometh sorrowful because he can not see and understand, just as it is, the sun which we look at with corporeal eyes; but every one rejoiceth that at least he can understand according to the measure of his understanding. He doth well who desireth to understand the Eternal and Almighty Sun; but he doth very foolishly, if he wisheth to know Him perfectly while he is in this world._
_A._ _Very wonderfully and very truly thou teachest, and very much thou hast comforted me and brought me into good hope._ But I pray still for what thou aforetime didst promise me. _R._ Two things I promised that I would accomplish _and teach thee, to wit, to understand God and thyself. But I would know how thou desirest to understand that--whether thou wouldst believe without experience, or know by experience._ [Sidenote: 32.8--33.19] _A._ _I would know it by experience, for I know nothing of it surely._ _R._ That is no wonder. I did not explain it to thee in such wise that thou couldst know it by experience; for there is yet something which thou must first know, to wit, whether we both are whole. _A._ Thou must know whether thou findest any health, either in me, or in thyself, or in us both. _It becometh thee to teach and me to listen; and it becometh me to answer what I understand according to the measure of my understanding, if so be I understand it at all; if I do not understand it at all, then must I admit it and leave it to thy judgment._ _R._ Wishest thou to know more than about God and thyself?
_A._ I answer thee that I do not _wish anything_ more earnestly; but I dare not promise thee that I shall not desire any thing else than that; for it is verily hidden from me, albeit something cometh into my mind which, methinks, nothing can hinder me from furthering and performing. When another thing cometh which seemeth to me more right and reasonable, then I leave off that which I formerly held enough; and therefore at times it happeneth that something is so fixed in my mind, that I think I shall never let it go so long as I live. Howbeit there cometh to me then some trouble which occupieth me so that I can never leave it, nor can I perform it although I can not think of any better [thing to be done].[9] But three things have troubled me most: One is, I fear that I must part with my friends whom I love most, _or they with me--either for life or for death_; the second is, I fear sickness, _both the known and the unknown_; the third is, I fear death. [9] Supplied by translator. _R._ _I hear now what thou lovest most next to thine own reason and God_: They are, the life of thy friends, and thine own health, and thine own life. _Of these five things thou art afraid that thou shalt lose some, because thou lovest them all very much._ If thou didst not love them, then thou hadst not dreaded that thou wouldst lose them.
_R._ That is no wonder. No man hath such sound eyes that he can look any length of time toward the sun which we here see, much less if he have weak eyes. But those that have weak eyes can be more at ease in the darkness than in the light. Methinks, though, that it seemeth to thee that thou hast sound eyes. _Thou thinkest of the health of thy soul's eyes, but thou dost not think of the great light which thou wishest to see. Be not wroth with me, albeit I question thee and examine thee, for I needs must do that. Methinks thou dost not understand thyself._ [Sidenote: 35.9--37.3] _A._ _I am in no wise wroth with thee, but rejoice in what thou sayest, because I know that thou seekest my good._ _R._ Wishest thou any wealth? _A._ Long ago I resolved that I should despise it. I am now three and thirty years old, and I was one less than twenty when I first resolved that I would not love wealth overmuch. Though enough should come to me, I would not rejoice very much, _nor enjoy it too immoderately, nor would I gain more to keep than I could fitly make use of, and keep and support the men on, whom I must help_; and the residue I think as orderly to divide as I best am able so to do.
_R._ Wishest thou any honor? _A._ I confess to thee that I did wish that till recently desire failed. _R._ Desirest thou not a beautiful wife, and withal modest and well instructed and of good manners and subject to thy will, and one who hath much substance and would not engross thee in any thing, nor hinder thee from enjoying leisure at thy will? _A._ Dost thou not praise her overmuch that I may wish her all the more? For methinks there is nothing worse for him _that willeth to serve God than to take a wife--though some one hath said_ that it is better to take one for the rearing of children. Howbeit I say that _it is better for priests not to have a wife. Therefore I decided that I would take none, because I wished to be the freer to serve God_. _R._ I hear now that thou dost not think to take a wife; but I would know whether thou still hast any love or lust _after any uncleanness_. _A._ _Why askest thou more about that?_ I do not now desire that; but if lust ever cometh to me, I dread it _as an adder_. Ever the less is my desire for it, and ever the more I wish to see the light, even as I lust the less after this manner.
_R._ How about food? How much dost thou desire that? [Sidenote: 37.4--39.13] _A._ I desire none of those meats which I have renounced; I desire those which I have thought right to eat, when I see them. What shall I say more either about meat, or drink, or baths, _or riches, or honor, or any worldly lusts_? Nor do I wish any more of these than I shall need to have for my bodily comfort and to keep my strength. _Howbeit I need much more for the wants of those men which I must take care of, and moreover this I needs must have._ _R._ Thou art right. But I would know whether thy old _covetousness and greediness be entirely extirpated and uprooted from thy mind, so that it can not still grow_. _A._ _Why askest thou that?_ _R._ I speak of the things which thou before saidst to me that thou hadst decided to leave off and for nothing would turn back to again, namely: overmuch wealth, and _immoderate honor, and inordinately rich and luxurious living_; and therefore I now ask whether, either for the love of them or for the love of any thing, thou wilt return to them again. I heard formerly that thou saidst that thou lovedst thy friends, next to God and thine own reason, above other things. Now I would know whether thou, for their love, wouldst lay hold of these things again.
_A._ I will lay hold of all again for their love, if I can not else have their companionship--_yet it doth not please me so to do_. _R._ Very reasonably thou dost answer me and very rightly. _Howbeit I understand that the lusts of the world are not entirely uprooted from thy mind, although the trench be prepared; for the roots can sprout thence again._ Yet I impute that not to thee as a fault, for thou layest hold of it not for the love of those things but for the love of this thing which it is more right to love than that. _I never ask about any man, what he doth; but yet I ask thee now why thou lovest thy friends so much, or what thou lovest in them, or whether thou lovest them for their own sake or for some other thing._ [Sidenote: 39.14--41.19] _A._ I love them for friendship and for companionship, _and above all others I love those who most help me to understand and to know reason and wisdom, most of all about God and about our souls; for I know that I can more easily seek after Him with their help than I can without_. _R._ How then if they do not wish to inquire _after the One whom thou seekest_? _A._ I shall teach them so that they will.
_R._ But how then if thou canst not, and if they be so foolish as to love other things more than that which thou lovest, and say that they can not or will not? _A._ _I, nevertheless, will have them_: they will be helpful to me in some things and I likewise to them. _R._ But how then if they disturb thee, _and if the infirmities of the body hinder thee_? _A._ That is true; _howbeit I would not fear at all the infirmities, if it were not for three things: One of these is heavy sorrow; another is death; the third is that I can not seek nor truly find what I desire just as thou madest me know_. Toothache hindered me from all learning, but yet it did not altogether snatch from me the remembrance of that which I formerly learned. Howbeit I suppose, if I should understand certainly that which I yearn to understand, sorrow would seem to me very little, or else naught, compared with faith. Yet I know many a pain is much sharper than toothache, albeit I never suffered any sharper. I learned that Cornelius Celsus taught _in his books_ that in every man wisdom is the highest good and sickness the greatest evil. The saying appeareth to me very true. Concerning the same thing the same Cornelius saith: 'Of two things we are what we are, to wit, of soul and of body. _The soul is spiritual, and the body earthy._ The best faculty of the soul is wisdom, and the worst affliction of the body is sickness.' Methinks moreover that this is not false.
_A._ Alas! what a hard thing thou dost enjoin upon me! _Didst thou not formerly admit that I loved nothing above wisdom, and moreover I too admitted it, albeit thou saidst then that_ whoever loveth one thing for the sake of another, he doth not of a truth love that former thing for which he professeth love, _but really that for which he loved the former thing and thought to obtain it_. Therefore I assert that I love wisdom for no other thing than for its own sake. I love all the world--each thing as I consider it profitable, and especially that thing most which helpeth me to wisdom; and moreover those things which I fear most to lose. Howbeit I do not love any thing else in such wise as I love wisdom. Every thing which I love most I grant, while I love it most, to no man but to myself, _except wisdom alone_. It I love above all other things, and yet of my free will I would grant it to every man, so that all who are on this earth might love it and search after it, yea, find it, and then use it; for I know that each of us would love the other by so much more as our will and our love were more in unison.
Consider now whether any man seeketh there the king's home where he is in town, or his court, or his army, or whether it seemeth to thee that they all must come thither by the same road; on the contrary, I suppose they would come by very many roads: some would come from afar, and would have a road very long and very bad and very difficult; some would have a very long and very direct and very good road; some would have a very short and yet hard and strait and foul one; some would have a short and smooth and good one; and yet they all would come to one and the same lord, some more easily, some with more difficulty; neither do they come thither with like ease, nor are they there alike at ease. Some are in more honor and in more ease than others; some in less, some almost without, except the one that he loveth. So is it likewise with wisdom.
Each one who wisheth it and who anxiously prayeth for it, he can come to it and abide in its household and live near it; yet some are nearer it, others farther from it; just so is every king's court: some dwell in cottages, some in halls, some on the threshing-floor, some in prison; and yet they all live by the favor of one lord, just as all men live under one sun, and by its light see what they see. Some look very carefully and very clearly; some see with great difficulty; others are stark blind, yet use the sun. But just as the visible sun lighteth the eyes of our body, so wisdom lighteth the eyes of our mind, which is our understanding. And just as the eyes of the body are more sound, thus to use more of the sun's light_, so is it also with the mind's eyes, that is, the understanding: just by so much as that is sounder, by so much more may it see the eternal sun, which is wisdom. Every man that hath sound eyes needeth no other guide nor teacher to see the sun, except health. If he hath sound eyes, he may himself look at the sun.
On the contrary, if he hath unsound eyes, then he needeth that one teach him to look first on the wall, then on gold, and on silver; when he can more easily look on that, [then let him look][10] on fire, before he looketh at the sun. Then after he hath learned that his eyes do not at all avoid the fire, let him look on the stars and on the moon, then on sunshine, before he looketh on the sun itself. And just so with the other sun that we formerly spake of, that is, wisdom. He who wisheth to see it with his mind's eyes must begin very gradually, and then little by little mount nearer and nearer by steps, _just as if he were climbing on a ladder and wished to ascend some sea-cliff. If he then ever cometh up on the cliff, he may look both over the shore and over the sea, which then lieth beneath him, and also over the land that formerly was above him._ But if it seemeth good to us, let us stop here for this day, and to-morrow seek further after the same thing which we before sought after. [10] Supplied by translator. [Sidenote: 44.25--46.10] _A._ _Nay, not at all; but I humbly pray thee that thou weary not, nor leave off the conversation here; but say somewhat more clearly about it so that I may more clearly feel and understand something concerning this wisdom, and bid me what thou wilt._ I will understand it, if it lies in my power.
_R._ I know not anything to command thee of which thou hast more need for the science which thou wishest to know, than that thou despise, so much as thou art able, worldly honors, _and especially intemperate and unlawful ones_, because I fear that they may bind thy mind to themselves and take it with their snare, just as one catcheth wild beasts or fowls, so that thou canst not accomplish what thou wishest; for I know that the freer thou art from the things of this world, the more clearly thou shalt understand about the wisdom which thou desirest; and if it ever happen that thou canst so entirely forsake them that thou desirest naught of them, then shall I be able to say to thee forsooth (believe me if thou wilt), that in that very hour thou shalt know all that thou wishest now to know, and shalt have all that thou wishest to have. [Sidenote: 46.10--48.6] _A._ When shall that be? I do not believe that it will ever be that I shall not yearn at all after this world's honors, unless one thing happen, namely: that I see _those honors which thou promisest me. Howbeit I know not that it would please me so well to yearn no more after this world's honors._
_R._ Now methinks thou dost not answer me with reason. Methinks that thou speakest very much as if thine eyes should say to thy mind: 'We will never avoid the darkness of the night until we can see the sun itself.' Thus, methinks, the eyes do, if they avoid that part of the sun's light which they can see. It can not happen even to the soundest of all eyes that they can look from this world and see the sun as it is. By this thou mayest conclude that thou oughtest not to sigh though thou canst not see wisdom naked with the eyes of thy mind just as it is; for thou canst never do that _while thou art in the darkness of thy sins. But enjoy the wisdom which thou hast, and have joy in the part which thou canst understand, and seek more with thy whole heart. Wisdom itself knoweth what thou art worthy of, and how much it may show itself to thee. There is naught worse in a man than to suppose that he is worthy of what he is not. The physician knoweth better than the sick whether he can be healed or not, or whether he can be healed by mild or by severe treatment. Therefore thou must not excuse thyself too much, nor sigh too much after aught. The eyes of thy mind are not so wholly sound as thou dost suppose._
_R._ Let us now end this book here properly, and name a shorter way in another book, if we can. _A._ Nay, nay; let us not leave this book yet until I am able to understand that which we are after. _R._ Methinks I ought to do as thou bidst me. Something draweth me on, I know not what, _but I surmise it is the God thou seekest after_. _A._ _Thanks be to Him that adviseth thee, and to thee also, if thou praise Him._ Lead whither thou wilt: _I will follow after thee if I can_. [Sidenote: 49.19--52.2] _R._ Methinks thou desirest still to know that same thing about God and thy soul which thou didst formerly desire. _A._ Yea, that alone I desire. _R._ Wishest thou aught more? Wishest thou not to know truth? _A._ How can I, without truth, know aught of truth, _or what wilt thou say, without truth, that God is? For we hear it read in the Gospel that Christ said that He is the way, the truth, and the life._ _R._ Rightly thou sayest; but I would know whether it seemeth to thee that the true and truth are one [and the same thing]. _A._ Two things, methinks, they are, _just as wisdom is one thing, and that which is wise is another_; and likewise chastity is one thing, and that which is chaste is another.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.