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- confessions
- text
- occurs, connects itself not therewith; because it was not wont to be
thought upon together with him, and therefore is rejected, until that
present itself, whereon the knowledge reposes equably as its wonted
object. And whence does that present itself, but out of the memory
itself? for even when we recognise it, on being reminded by another, it
is thence it comes. For we do not believe it as something new, but,
upon recollection, allow what was named to be right. But were it utterly
blotted out of the mind, we should not remember it, even when reminded.
For we have not as yet utterly forgotten that, which we remember
ourselves to have forgotten. What then we have utterly forgotten, though
lost, we cannot even seek after.
How then do I seek Thee, O Lord? For when I seek Thee, my God, I seek a
happy life. I will seek Thee, that my soul may live. For my body liveth
by my soul; and my soul by Thee. How then do I seek a happy life, seeing
I have it not, until I can say, where I ought to say it, "It is enough"?
How seek I it? By remembrance, as though I had forgotten it, remembering
that I had forgotten it? Or, desiring to learn it as a thing unknown,
either never having known, or so forgotten it, as not even to remember
that I had forgotten it? is not a happy life what all will, and no one
altogether wills it not? where have they known it, that they so will it?
where seen it, that they so love it? Truly we have it, how, I know not.
Yea, there is another way, wherein when one hath it, then is he happy;
and there are, who are blessed, in hope. These have it in a lower kind,
than they who have it in very deed; yet are they better off than such as
are happy neither in deed nor in hope. Yet even these, had they it not
in some sort, would not so will to be happy, which that they do will, is
most certain. They have known it then, I know not how, and so have it by
some sort of knowledge, what, I know not, and am perplexed whether it be
in the memory, which if it be, then we have been happy once; whether all
severally, or in that man who first sinned, in whom also we all died,
and from whom we are all born with misery, I now enquire not; but only,
whether the happy life be in the memory? For neither should we love it,
did we not know it. We hear the name, and we all confess that we desire
the thing; for we are not delighted with the mere sound. For when
a Greek hears it in Latin, he is not delighted, not knowing what is
spoken; but we Latins are delighted, as would he too, if he heard it in
Greek; because the thing itself is neither Greek nor Latin, which Greeks
and Latins, and men of all other tongues, long for so earnestly. Known
therefore it is to all, for they with one voice be asked, "would they
be happy?" they would answer without doubt, "they would." And this could
not be, unless the thing itself whereof it is the name were retained in
their memory.
But is it so, as one remembers Carthage who hath seen it? No. For a
happy life is not seen with the eye, because it is not a body. As we
remember numbers then? No. For these, he that hath in his knowledge,
seeks not further to attain unto; but a happy life we have in our
knowledge, and therefore love it, and yet still desire to attain it,
that we may be happy. As we remember eloquence then? No. For although
upon hearing this name also, some call to mind the thing, who still are
not yet eloquent, and many who desire to be so, whence it appears that
it is in their knowledge; yet these have by their bodily senses observed
others to be eloquent, and been delighted, and desire to be the like
(though indeed they would not be delighted but for some inward knowledge
thereof, nor wish to be the like, unless they were thus delighted);
whereas a happy life, we do by no bodily sense experience in others. As
then we remember joy? Perchance; for my joy I remember, even when sad,
as a happy life, when unhappy; nor did I ever with bodily sense see,
hear, smell, taste, or touch my joy; but I experienced it in my mind,
when I rejoiced; and the knowledge of it clave to my memory, so that I
can recall it with disgust sometimes, at others with longing, according
to the nature of the things, wherein I remember myself to have joyed.
For even from foul things have I been immersed in a sort of joy; which
now recalling, I detest and execrate; otherwhiles in good and honest
things, which I recall with longing, although perchance no longer
present; and therefore with sadness I recall former joy.
Where then and when did I experience my happy life, that I should
remember, and love, and long for it? Nor is it I alone, or some few
besides, but we all would fain be happy; which, unless by some certain
knowledge we knew, we should not with so certain a will desire. But how
is this, that if two men be asked whether they would go to the wars,
one, perchance, would answer that he would, the other, that he would
not; but if they were asked whether they would be happy, both would
instantly without any doubting say they would; and for no other reason
would the one go to the wars, and the other not, but to be happy. Is it
perchance that as one looks for his joy in this thing, another in that,
all agree in their desire of being happy, as they would (if they were
asked) that they wished to have joy, and this joy they call a happy
life? Although then one obtains this joy by one means, another by
another, all have one end, which they strive to attain, namely, joy.
Which being a thing which all must say they have experienced, it is
therefore found in the memory, and recognised whenever the name of a
happy life is mentioned.
Far be it, Lord, far be it from the heart of Thy servant who here
confesseth unto Thee, far be it, that, be the joy what it may, I should
therefore think myself happy. For there is a joy which is not given to
the ungodly, but to those who love Thee for Thine own sake, whose joy
Thou Thyself art. And this is the happy life, to rejoice to Thee, of
Thee, for Thee; this is it, and there is no other. For they who think
there is another, pursue some other and not the true joy. Yet is not
their will turned away from some semblance of joy.
It is not certain then that all wish to be happy, inasmuch as they who
wish not to joy in Thee, which is the only happy life, do not truly
desire the happy life. Or do all men desire this, but because the flesh
lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh, that they
cannot do what they would, they fall upon that which they can, and are
content therewith; because, what they are not able to do, they do not
will so strongly as would suffice to make them able? For I ask any
one, had he rather joy in truth, or in falsehood? They will as little
hesitate to say "in the truth," as to say "that they desire to be
happy," for a happy life is joy in the truth: for this is a joying in
Thee, Who art the Truth, O God my light, health of my countenance, my
God. This is the happy life which all desire; this life which alone is
happy, all desire; to joy in the truth all desire. I have met with many
that would deceive; who would be deceived, no one. Where then did they
know this happy life, save where they know the truth also? For they love
it also, since they would not be deceived. And when they love a happy
life, which is no other than joying in the truth, then also do they love
the truth; which yet they would not love, were there not some notice of
it in their memory. Why then joy they not in it? why are they not happy?
because they are more strongly taken up with other things which have
more power to make them miserable, than that which they so faintly
remember to make them happy.