And thus much, either from or through him, Thou conveyedst
to me, and tracedst in my memory, what I might hereafter examine
for myself. But at that time neither he, nor my dearest Nebridius,
a youth singularly good and of a holy fear, who derided the whole
body of divination, could persuade me to cast it aside, the authority
of the authors swaying me yet more, and as yet I had found no
certain proof (such as I sought) whereby it might without all
doubt appear, that what had been truly foretold by those consulted
was the result of haphazard, not of the art of the star-gazers.
In those years when I first began to teach rhetoric in my native
town, I had made one my friend, but too dear to me, from a community
of pursuits, of mine own age, and, as myself, in the first opening
flower of youth. He had grown up as a child with me, and we had
been both school-fellows and play-fellows. But he was not yet
my friend as afterwards, nor even then, as true friendship is;
for true it cannot be, unless in such as Thou cementest together,
cleaving unto Thee, by that love which is shed abroad in our hearts
by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto us. Yet was it but too
sweet, ripened by the warmth of kindred studies: for, from the
true faith (which he as a youth had not soundly and thoroughly
imbibed), I had warped him also to those superstitious and pernicious
fables, for which my mother bewailed me. With me he now erred
in mind, nor could my soul be without him. But behold Thou wert
close on the steps of Thy fugitives, at once God of vengeance,
and Fountain of mercies, turning us to Thyself by wonderful means;
Thou tookest that man out of this life, when he had scarce filled
up one whole year of my friendship, sweet to me above all sweetness
of that my life.
Who can recount all Thy praises, which he hath felt in his own
self? What diddest Thou then, my God, and how unsearchable is
the abyss of Thy judgments? For long, sore sick of a fever, he
lay senseless in a death-sweat; and his recovery being despaired
of, he was baptised, unknowing; myself meanwhile little regarding,
and presuming that his soul would retain rather what it had received
of me, not what was wrought on his unconscious body. But it proved
far otherwise: for he was refreshed, and restored. Forthwith,
as soon as I could speak with him (and I could, so soon as he
was able, for I never left him, and we hung but too much upon
each other), I essayed to jest with him, as though he would jest
with me at that baptism which he had received, when utterly absent
in mind and feeling, but had now understood that he had received.
But he so shrunk from me, as from an enemy; and with a wonderful
and sudden freedom bade me, as I would continue his friend, forbear
such language to him. I, all astonished and amazed, suppressed
all my emotions till he should grow well, and his health were
strong enough for me to deal with him as I would. But he was taken
away from my frenzy, that with Thee he might be preserved for
my comfort; a few days after, in my absence, he was attacked again
by the fever, and so departed. At this grief my heart was utterly
darkened; and whatever I beheld was death. My native country was
a torment to me, and my father's house a strange unhappiness;
and whatever I had shared with him, wanting him, became a distracting
torture. Mine eyes sought him every where, but he was not granted
them; and I hated all places, for that they had not him; nor could
they now tell me, "he is coming," as when he was alive
and absent. I became a great riddle to myself, and I asked my
soul, why she was so sad, and why she disquieted me sorely: but
she knew not what to answer me. And if I said, Trust in God, she
very rightly obeyed me not; because that most dear friend, whom
she had lost, was, being man, both truer and better than that
phantasm she was bid to trust in. Only tears were sweet to me,
for they succeeded my friend, in the dearest of my affections.
And now, Lord, these things are passed by, and time hath assuaged
my wound. May I learn from Thee, who art Truth, and approach the
ear of my heart unto Thy mouth, that Thou mayest tell me why weeping
is sweet to the miserable? Hast Thou, although present every where,
cast away our misery far from Thee? And Thou abidest in Thyself,
but we are tossed about in divers trials. And yet unless we mourned
in Thine ears, we should have no hope left. Whence then is sweet
fruit gathered from the bitterness of life, from groaning, tears,
sighs, and complaints? Doth this sweeten it, that we hope Thou
hearest? This is true of prayer, for therein is a longing to approach
unto Thee. But is it also in grief for a thing lost, and the sorrow
wherewith I was then overwhelmed? For I neither hoped he should
return to life nor did I desire this with my tears; but I wept
only and grieved. For I was miserable, and had lost my joy. Or
is weeping indeed a bitter thing, and for very loathing of the
things which we before enjoyed, does it then, when we shrink from
them, please us?
But what speak I of these things? for now is no time to question,
but to confess unto Thee. Wretched I was; and wretched is every
soul bound by the friendship of perishable things; he is torn
asunder when he loses them, and then he feels the wretchedness
which he had ere yet he lost them. So was it then with me; I wept
most bitterly, and found my repose in bitterness. Thus was I wretched,
and that wretched life I held dearer than my friend. For though
I would willingly have changed it, yet was I more unwilling to
part with it than with him; yea, I know not whether I would have
parted with it even for him, as is related (if not feigned) of
Pylades and Orestes, that they would gladly have died for each
other or together, not to live together being to them worse than
death. But in me there had arisen some unexplained feeling, too
contrary to this, for at once I loathed exceedingly to live and
feared to die. I suppose, the more I loved him, the more did I
hate, and fear (as a most cruel enemy) death, which had bereaved
me of him: and I imagined it would speedily make an end of all
men, since it had power over him. Thus was it with me, I remember.
Behold my heart, O my God, behold and see into me; for well I
remember it, O my Hope, who cleansest me from the impurity of
such affections, directing mine eyes towards Thee, and plucking
my feet out of the snare. For I wondered that others, subject
to death, did live, since he whom I loved, as if he should never
die, was dead; and I wondered yet more that myself, who was to
him a second self, could live, he being dead. Well said one of
his friend, "Thou half of my soul"; for I felt that
my soul and his soul were "one soul in two bodies":
and therefore was my life a horror to me, because I would not
live halved. And therefore perchance I feared to die, lest he
whom I had much loved should die wholly.