masters, but what the so-called grammarians taught me. For those first lessons, reading, writing, and arithmetic, I used to find no less burdensome and tasklike than all my Greek. And yet whence was this too, but from the sin and vanity of this life, because "I was but flesh, and a wind that passeth away and cometh not again"? (Ps. lxxviii. 39). For those first lessons were in fact better, 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 compelled to learn the wanderings of some Æneas or other, forgetful of my own and to weep for dead Dido, because she killed herself for love; the while, with dry eyes, I, most miserable, endured myself dying among these things, far from Thee, O God my life. For what could be more miserable than a miserable being, who commiserates not himself, weeping the death of Dido which came of her love to Æneas, but weeping not his own death which came of want of love to Thee, O God, Thou light of my heart, Thou bread of my inmost soul, Thou Power who makest fertile my mind, and the thought of my bosom? I loved Thee not, I committed fornication against Thee, and all around me thus fornicating there echoed "Well done! well done!" "for the friendship of this world is fornication against Thee" (S. James iv. 4), and "Well done! well done!" is repeated till one is ashamed not to be thus a man. And all this I wept not, but I wept for Dido slain, and "seeking by the sword a wound extreme," myself seeking the while the extremest and lowest of Thy creatures, having forsaken Thee, earth passing into the earth; and if forbid to read all this, I would grieve that I might not read what grieved me. Madness like this is reckoned a more honourable and a richer learning than that by which I learned to read and write. But now, my God, cry Thou aloud in my soul; and let Thy truth tell me, "Not so, not so. Far better was that earlier lore." For, lo, I would far more readily forget the wanderings of Æneas and all the rest than how to read and write. But over the thresholds of the Grammar Schools veils are hung; but these indicate not so much the dignity of secrecy as the cloak of errors. Let not those, whom I no longer fear, cry out against me, while I confess to Thee, my God, whatever my soul will, and acquiesce in the condemnation of my evil ways, that I may love Thy good ways. Let not either buyers or sellers of grammar cry out against me. For if I put the question to them whether it be true that Æneas came on a time to Carthage, as the Poet tells, the less learned will reply that they know not, the more learned that he never did. But if I were to ask with what letters the name "Eneas" is written, all who have learnt this will answer me aright, according to the use and wont, by which men have established those signs among themselves. If, again, I should ask, which might be forgotten with least detriment to the concerns of life, reading and writing or these poetic fictions, who does not foresee, what all must answer who have not wholly forgotten themselves? I sinned, then, when as a boy I preferred those empty to those more profitable studies, or rather hated the one and loved the other. "One and one, two; "" "" two and two, four;" this was to me a hateful singsong: "the wooden horse filled with armed men," and "the burning of Troy," and "Creusa's shade" were the vain spectacle most charming to me. WHY CHAPTER XIV. Why he disliked Greek, and easily learned Latin. HY then did I hate the Greek language in which like songs are sung. For Homer also was skilful in weaving the like fables, and is most sweetly-vain, yet was he bitter to my boyish taste. And so I suppose would Virgil be to Grecian children, when forced to learn him as I was the other. Difficulty, in truth, the difficulty of learning a foreign tongue, sprinkled, as it were, with gall all the sweetness of Grecian fables. For I knew none of the words, and to make me know them, I was urged vehemently with cruel threats and punishments. Time was also (as an infant) I knew no Latin; but this I learned without fear or torture, by mere observation, amid the caresses of my nurses, the jests of smiling friends, and the delights of those that played with me. This I learned without any burden of punishment to urge me on, for my heart urged me to give birth to its conceptions, which I could only do by learning words not of teachers, but of talkers; in whose ears also I gave birth to the thoughts, whatever I conceived. It is quite clear then, that a free curiosity has more power to make us learn these things than a terrifying obligation. Only this obligation restrains the waverings of that freedom by Thy laws, O my God, Thy laws, from the master's rod to the martyr's trials, for Thy laws have the effect of mingling for us certain wholesome bitters, which recall us to Thee away from that pernicious blithesomeness, by means of which we depart from Thee. CHAPTER XV. He prays that he may use in God's service what he learned as a boy. HEAR, Lord, my prayer; let not my soul faint under Thy discipline, nor let me faint in confessing unto Thee Thy mercies, whereby Thou hast drawn me out of all my most evil ways; that Thou mightest become sweeter to me than all the allurements which I once pursued; that I may most entirely love Thee, and clasp Thy hand with all the affections of my heart, and Thou mayest yet draw me away from every temptation, even unto the end. For, lo, do Thou, O Lord, my King and my God, make serviceable to Thyself whatever useful thing I learned in boyhood; for Thy service be it, that I speak, and write, and read, and reckon. For Thou didst grant me Thy discipline, while I was learning vanities; and the sin of taking delight in those vanities Thou hast forgiven. In them, indeed, I learned many useful words, but these may as well be learned in things not vain; and that is the safe path, in which the young should walk. CHAPTER XVI. He blames the method in which the young are taught; and shows why the poets attribute vices to the gods. BUT UT woe to thee, thou torrent of human custom! Who shall stand against thee? how long shalt thou not be dried up? how long roll the sons of Eve into that huge and dreadful sea, which even they scarcely overpass who embark upon the wood?* Did not I read in thee of Jove the thunderer and the adulterer? both, certainly, he could not be; but so was it devised, that the sham, thunder might authorise and pander to real adultery. And now which of our gowned masters, lends a sober ear to one of the same clay as themselves, who cries out, "These things Homer feigned, and transferred things human to the gods; would he had brought down things divine to us!" (Cic. Tusc. i. 26.) Yet more truly had he said, "These are indeed but fictions; but by attributing a divine nature to wicked men, crimes were no longer deemed crimes, so that those who commit them might seem to imitate not abandoned men, but the celestial gods." And yet, thou hellish torrent, into thee are cast the sons of men with rich payments for such learning; and a great business is made of it, when this is being publicly done in the forum, within sight of laws appointing a salary beside the scholar's payments; and thou lashest thy rocks and roarest, "Hence words are learnt; hence eloquence is acquired; most necessary to gain your ends, or set forth your opinions.' As if we should have never known such words as "golden shower," "lap," "deceit," "temples of the heavens," or others in that passage, unless Terence had brought a lewd youth upon the stage, setting up Jupiter as his example of debauchery, while he views a "certain picture painted on the wall, where this was shown, how Jove, they say, once dropped in Danae's lap a golden shower, and on the woman passed deceit." And then mark how he excites himself to lust as by celestial authority; "But what God? saith he. Why, he that shakes the topmost temples of the heavens with his thunder. And may not I, weak man, the same thing do? Eh, but that I did, and merrily." (Terence, Eun. Act iii. sc. 5.) Not one whit more easily are the words learnt for all this vileness; but by their means the vileness is committed the more boldly. Not that I blame the words, being, as it were, vessels elect and * The wood of the cross is probably what S. Augustine here intends. Compare Wisdom xiv. 5, "Therefore do men commit their lives to a small piece of wood, and passing the rough sea in a weak vessel are saved." Of this passage S. Rabanus Maurus writes, "What sea, save the tempestuous ocean of this naughty world? what vessel, save the the holier ark, the Cross of the Lord Jesus?"-Editor. * A precious; but that wine of error which is in them, was given to us to drink by teachers intoxicated with it; and if we, too, drank not, we were beaten, nor could we appeal to any sober judge. Yet, O my God (in whose presence my remembrance of this is now harmless), all this unhappily I learnt willingly and took delight in it, and for this was pronounced a hopeful boy. CHAPTER XVII. He continues the subject of the last chapter. UFFER me, my God, to say somewhat of my talents, For a task was set me, troublesome enough to my soul, upon terms of praise or shame, and fear of stripes, to speak the words of Juno, as she raged and mourned that she could not turn the Trojan king from Italy. Which words I had heard that Juno never uttered; but we were forced to err and stray in the footsteps of these poetic fictions, and to say in prose much that the poet had expressed in verse. And he would speak with the more applause, who best maintained the dignity of the character he personated, and simulated the passion of rage and grief, and meetly clothed the thoughts in words. What is it to me, O my true life, my God, that my declamation was applauded above so many of my own age and class? is not all this smoke and wind? and was there nothing else whereon to exercise my talents and my tongue? Thy praises, Lord, Thy praises throughout Thy Scriptures, might have lent support to the vine of my heart; so had it not trailed away amid these trifling vanities, a vile prey for the fowls of the air. For in more ways than one do men sacrifice to the rebel angels. CHAPTER XVIII. Men keep with care the rules of grammar; but neglect the eternal laws of lasting salvation. BUT UT what marvel that I was thus carried away to vanities, and went out from Thy presence, O my God, when men were set before me for imitation, who, if in |