Chapter IV.—Sorely Distressed by Weeping at the Death of His Friend, He Provides Consolation for Himself.

7. In those years, when I first began to teach rhetoric in my native town, I had acquired a very dear friend, from association in our studies, of mine own age, and, like myself, just rising up into the flower of youth. He had grown up with me from childhood, and we had been both school-fellows and play-fellows. But he was not then my friend, nor, indeed, afterwards, as true friendship is; for true it is not but in such as Thou bindest together, cleaving unto Thee by that love which is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto us.164    Rom. v. 5. But yet it was too sweet, being ripened by the fervour of similar studies. For, from the true faith (which he, as a youth, had not soundly and thoroughly become master of), I had turned him aside towards those superstitious and pernicious fables which my mother mourned in me. With me this man’s mind now erred, nor could my soul exist without him. But behold, Thou wert close behind Thy fugitives—at once God of vengeance165    Ps. xciv. 1. and Fountain of mercies, who turnest us to Thyself by wondrous means. Thou removedst that man from this life when he had scarce completed one whole year of my friendship, sweet to me above all the sweetness of that my life.

8. “Who can show forth all Thy praise”166    Ps. cvi. 2. which he hath experienced in himself alone? What was it that Thou didst then, O my God, and how unsearchable are the depths of Thy judgments!167    Ps. xxxvi. 6, and Rom. xi. 33. For when, sore sick of a fever, he long lay unconscious in a death-sweat, and all despaired of his recovery, he was baptized without his knowledge;168    See i. sec. 17, note 3, above. myself meanwhile little caring, presuming that his soul would retain rather what it had imbibed from me, than what was done to his unconscious body. Far different, however, was it, for he was revived and restored. Straightway, as soon as I could talk to him (which I could as soon as he was able, for I never left him, and we hung too much upon each other), I attempted to jest with him, as if he also would jest with me at that baptism which he had received when mind and senses were in abeyance, but had now learnt that he had received. But he shuddered at me, as if I were his enemy; and, with a remarkable and unexpected freedom, admonished me, if I desired to continue his friend, to desist from speaking to him in such a way. I, confounded and confused, concealed all my emotions, till he should get well, and his health be strong enough to allow me to deal with him as I wished. But he was withdrawn from my frenzy, that with Thee he might be preserved for my comfort. A few days after, during my absence, he had a return of the fever, and died.

9. At this sorrow my heart was utterly darkened, and whatever I looked upon was death. My native country was a torture to me, and my father’s house a wondrous unhappiness; and whatsoever I had participated in with him, wanting him, turned into a frightful torture. Mine eyes sought him everywhere, but he was not granted them; and I hated all places because he was not in them; nor could they now say to me, “Behold; he is coming,” as they did when he was alive and absent. I became a great puzzle to myself, and asked my soul why she was so sad, and why she so exceedingly disquieted me;169    Ps. xlii. 5. but she knew not what to answer me. And if I said, “Hope thou in God,”170    Ibid. she very properly obeyed me not; because that most dear friend whom she had lost was, being man, both truer and better than that phantasm171    The mind may rest in theories and abstractions, but the heart craves a being that it can love; and Archbishop Whately has shown in one of his essays that the idol worship of every age had doubtless its origin in the craving of mind and heart for an embodiment of the object of worship. “Show us the Father, and it sufficeth us,” says Philip (John xiv. 8), and he expresses the longing of the soul; and when the Lord replies, “He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father,” He reveals to us God’s satisfaction of human wants in the incarnation of His Son. Augustin’s heart was now thrown in upon itself, and his view of God gave him no consolation. It satisfied his mind, perhaps, in a measure, to think of God as a “corporeal brightness” (see iii. 12; iv. 3, 12, 31; v. 19, etc.) when free from trouble, but it could not satisfy him now. He had yet to learn of Him who is the very image of God—who by His divine power raised the dead to life again, while, with perfect human sympathy, He could “weep with those that wept,”—the “Son of Man” (not of a man, He being miraculously born, but of the race of men [ἀνθρῶπου]), i.e. the Son of Mankind. See also viii. sec. 27, note, below. she was bid to hope in. Naught but tears were sweet to me, and they succeeded my friend in the dearest of my affections.

CAPUT IV. Morbum et baptismum amici narrat, quem etiam suis erroribus involverat; eoque morte sublato, dolet gravissime. Mirabilis efficacia sacramenti Baptismi.

7. In illis annis, quo primum tempore in municipio quo natus sum docere coeperam, comparaveram amicum societate studiorum nimis charum, coaevum mihi et conflorentem flore adolescentiae. Mecum puer creverat, et pariter in scholam ieramus, pariterque luseramus. Sed nondum erat sic amicus, quanquam ne tunc quidem sicuti est vera amicitia; quia non est vera, nisi cum eam tu agglutinas inter inhaerentes tibi, charitate diffusa in cordibus nostris per Spiritum sanctum qui datus est nobis (Rom. V, 5). Sed tamen dulcis erat nimis, coacta fervore parilium studiorum. Nam et a fide vera, quam non germanitus et penitus adolescens tenebat, deflexeram ego eum in superstitiosas fabellas et perniciosas, propter quas plangebat me mater. Mecum jam errabat in animo homo ille, et non poterat anima mea sine illo. Et ecce tu imminens dorso fugitivorum tuorum, Deus ultionum et fons misericordiarum simul, qui convertis nos ad te miris modis; ecce abstulisti hominem de hac vita, cum vix explevisset annum in amicitia mea, suavi mihi super omnes suavitates illius vitae meae.

8. Quis laudes tuas enumerat unus, in se uno quas expertus est? Quid tunc fecisti, Deus meus, et quam investigabilis abyssus judiciorum tuorum? Cum enim laboraret ille febribus, jacuit diu sine sensu in sudore letali. Et cum desperaretur, baptizatus est nesciens, me non curante, et praesumente id retinere potius animam ejus quod a me acceperat, non quod in nescientis corpore fiebat. Longe autem aliter erat; nam recreatus est et salvus factus. Statimque ut primum cum eo loqui potui (potui autem mox ut ille potuit, quando non discedebam, et nimis pendebamus ex invicem), tentavi apud illum irridere, tanquam et illo irrisuro mecum Baptismum quem acceperat mente atque sensu absentissimus, sed tamen jam se accepisse didicerat. At ille ita me exhorruit ut inimicum, admonuitque mirabili et repentina libertate, ut si amicus esse vellem, talia sibi dicere desinerem. Ego autem stupefactus atque turbatus, distuli omnes motus meos, ut convalesceret prius, essetque idoneus viribus valetudinis cum quo agere possem quod vellem. 0697 Sed ille abreptus dementiae meae, ut apud te servaretur consolationi meae, post paucos dies, me absente, repetitur febribus et defungitur.

9. Quo dolore contenebratum est cor meum; et quidquid aspiciebam, mors erat. Et erat mihi patria supplicium, et paterna domus mira infelicitas; et quidquid cum illo communicaveram, sine illo in cruciatum immanem verterat. Expetebant eum undique oculi mei, et non dabatur mihi; et oderam omnia, quia non haberent eum, nec mihi jam dicere poterant: Ecce veniet, sicut cum viveret, quando absens erat. Factus eram ipse mihi magna quaestio, et interrogabam animam meam quare tristis esset, et quare conturbaret me valde; et nihil noverat respondere mihi. Et si dicebam, Spera in Deum (Psal. XLI, 6); juste non obtemperabat: quia verior erat et melior homo quem charissimum amiserat, quam phantasma in quod sperare jubebatur. Solus fletus erat dulcis mihi et successerat amico meo in deliciis animi mei.