Saint Augustine of Hippo - The Confessions of Saint Augustine

O God my God, what miseries and mockeries did I now experience, when obedience to my teachers was proposed to me, as proper in a boy, in order that in this world I might prosper, and excel in tongue-science, which should serve to the "praise of men," and to deceitful riches. Next I was put to school to get learning, in which I (poor wretch) knew not what use there was; and yet, if idle in learning, I was beaten. For this was judged right by our forefathers; and many, passing the same course before us, framed for us weary paths, through which we were fain to pass; multiplying toil and grief upon the sons of Adam. But, Lord, we found that men called upon Thee, and we learnt from them to think of Thee (according to our powers) as of some great One, who, though hidden from our senses, couldest hear and help us. For so I began, as a boy, to pray to Thee, my aid and refuge; and broke the fetters of my tongue to call on Thee, praying Thee, though small, yet with no small earnestness, that I might not be beaten at school. And when Thou heardest me not (not thereby giving me over to folly), my elders, yea my very parents, who yet wished me no ill, mocked my stripes, my then great and grievous ill.

Is there, Lord, any of soul so great, and cleaving to Thee with so intense affection (for a sort of stupidity will in a way do it); but is there any one who, from cleaving devoutly to Thee, is endued with so great a spirit, that he can think as lightly of the racks and hooks and other torments (against which, throughout all lands, men call on Thee with extreme dread), mocking at those by whom they are feared most bitterly, as our parents mocked the torments which we suffered in boyhood from our masters? For we feared not our torments less; nor prayed we less to Thee to escape them. And yet we sinned, in writing or reading or studying less than was exacted of us. For we wanted not, O Lord, memory or capacity, whereof Thy will gave enough for our age; but our sole delight was play; and for this we were punished by those who yet themselves were doing the like. But elder folks' idleness is called "business"; that of boys, being really the same, is punished by those elders; and none commiserates either boys or men. For will any of sound discretion approve of my being beaten as a boy, because, by playing a ball, I made less progress in studies which I was to learn, only that, as a man, I might play more unbeseemingly? and what else did he who beat me? who, if worsted in some trifling discussion with his fellow-tutor, was more embittered and jealous than I when beaten at ball by a play-fellow?

And yet, I sinned herein, O Lord God, the Creator and Disposer of all

things in nature, of sin the Disposer only, O Lord my God, I sinned in

transgressing the commands of my parents and those of my masters. For

what they, with whatever motive, would have me learn, I might afterwards

have put to good use. For I disobeyed, not from a better choice, but

from love of play, loving the pride of victory in my contests, and to

have my ears tickled with lying fables, that they might itch the more;

the same curiosity flashing from my eyes more and more, for the shows

and games of my elders. Yet those who give these shows are in such

esteem, that almost all wish the same for their children, and yet are

very willing that they should be beaten, if those very games detain them

from the studies, whereby they would have them attain to be the givers

of them. Look with pity, Lord, on these things, and deliver us who call

upon Thee now; deliver those too who call not on Thee yet, that they may

call on Thee, and Thou mayest deliver them.

As a boy, then, I had already heard of an eternal life, promised

us through the humility of the Lord our God stooping to our pride; and

even from the womb of my mother, who greatly hoped in Thee, I was sealed

with the mark of His cross and salted with His salt. Thou sawest, Lord,

how while yet a boy, being seized on a time with sudden oppression of

the stomach, and like near to death—Thou sawest, my God (for Thou wert

my keeper), with what eagerness and what faith I sought, from the pious

care of my mother and Thy Church, the mother of us all, the baptism of

Thy Christ, my God and Lord. Whereupon the mother of my flesh, being

much troubled (since, with a heart pure in Thy faith, she even more

lovingly travailed in birth of my salvation), would in eager haste

have provided for my consecration and cleansing by the health-giving

sacraments, confessing Thee, Lord Jesus, for the remission of sins,

unless I had suddenly recovered. And so, as if I must needs be

again polluted should I live, my cleansing was deferred, because the

defilements of sin would, after that washing, bring greater and more

perilous guilt. I then already believed: and my mother, and the whole

household, except my father: yet did not he prevail over the power of my

mother's piety in me, that as he did not yet believe, so neither

should I. For it was her earnest care that Thou my God, rather than he,

shouldest be my father; and in this Thou didst aid her to prevail over

her husband, whom she, the better, obeyed, therein also obeying Thee,

who hast so commanded.

I beseech Thee, my God, I would fain know, if so Thou willest, for

what purpose my baptism was then deferred? was it for my good that the

rein was laid loose, as it were, upon me, for me to sin? or was it not

laid loose? If not, why does it still echo in our ears on all sides,

"Let him alone, let him do as he will, for he is not yet baptised?" but

as to bodily health, no one says, "Let him be worse wounded, for he is

not yet healed." How much better then, had I been at once healed; and

then, by my friends' and my own, my soul's recovered health had been

kept safe in Thy keeping who gavest it. Better truly. But how many and

great waves of temptation seemed to hang over me after my boyhood! These

my mother foresaw; and preferred to expose to them the clay whence I

might afterwards be moulded, than the very cast, when made.

In boyhood itself, however (so much less dreaded for me than youth),

I loved not study, and hated to be forced to it. Yet I was forced; and

this was well done towards me, but I did not well; for, unless forced, I

had not learnt. But no one doth well against his will, even though what

he doth, be well. Yet neither did they well who forced me, but what was

well came to me from Thee, my God. For they were regardless how I should

employ what they forced me to learn, except to satiate the insatiate

desires of a wealthy beggary, and a shameful glory. But Thou, by whom

the very hairs of our head are numbered, didst use for my good the error

of all who urged me to learn; and my own, who would not learn, Thou

didst use for my punishment—a fit penalty for one, so small a boy and

so great a sinner. So by those who did not well, Thou didst well for me;

and by my own sin Thou didst justly punish me. For Thou hast commanded,

and so it is, that every inordinate affection should be its own

punishment.

But why did I so much hate the Greek, which I studied as a boy? I do not yet fully know. For the Latin I loved; not what my first masters, but what the so-called grammarians taught me. For those first lessons, reading, writing and arithmetic, I thought as great a burden and penalty as any Greek. And yet whence was this too, but from the sin and vanity of this life, because I was flesh, and a breath that passeth away and cometh not again? For those first lessons were better certainly, because more certain; by them I obtained, and still retain, the power of reading what I find written, and myself writing what I will; whereas in the others, I was forced to learn the wanderings of one Aeneas, forgetful of my own, and to weep for dead Dido, because she killed herself for love; the while, with dry eyes, I endured my miserable self dying among these things, far from Thee, O God my life.