AUGUSTINE AND THE VANDALS

[27][Greek: azyges] and [Greek: migades].

The following is the passage in which Gregorydescribes the life which was the common choiceof both of them:{5}

"Fierce was the whirlwind of my storm-toss'd mind,Searching,'mid holiest ways, a holier still.Long had I nerved me, in the depths to sinkThoughts of the flesh, and then more strenuously.Yet, while I gazed upon diviner aims,{10}I had not wit to single out the best:For, as is aye the wont in things of earth,Each had its evil, each its nobleness.I was the pilgrim of a toilsome course,Who had o'erpast the waves, and now look'd round,{15}With anxious eye, to track his road by land.Then did the awful Thesbite's image rise,His highest Carmel, and his food uncouth;The Baptist wealthy in his solitude;And the unencumbered sons of Jonadab.{20}But soon I felt the love of holy books,The spirit beaming bright in learned lore,Which deserts could not hear, nor silence tell.Long was the inward strife, till ended thus:—I saw, when men lived in the fretful world,{25}They vantaged other men, but risked the whileThe calmness and the pureness of their hearts.They who retired held an uprighter port,And raised their eyes with quiet strength towards heaven;Yet served self only, unfraternally.{30}And so, 'twixt these and those, I struck my path,To meditate with the free solitary,Yet to live secular, and serve mankind."

"The just perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart; and men of mercy are taken away, for there is none to understand; for the just man is taken away from before the face of evil."

I began by directing the reader's attention tothe labors of two great bishops, who restoredthe faith of Christianity where it had long beenobscured. Now, I will put before him, by wayof contrast, a scene of the overthrow of{5}religion,—the extinction of a candlestick,—effected, too,by champions of the same heretical creed whichBasil and Gregory successfully resisted. It willbe found in the history of the last days of thegreat Augustine, Bishop of Hippo, in Africa.{10}The truth triumphed in the East by the power ofpreaching; it was extirpated in the South by theedge of the sword.

Though it may not be given us to appropriatethe prophecies of the Apocalypse to the real{15}events to which they belong, yet it is impossibleto read its inspired pages, and then to turn tothe dissolution of the Roman empire, withoutseeing a remarkable agreement, on the whole,between the calamities of that period and the{20}sacred prediction. There is a plain announcementin the inspired page, of "Woe, woe, woe, tothe inhabitants of the earth"; an announcementof "hail and fire mingled with blood," theconflagration of "trees and green grass," thedestruction of ships, the darkening of the sun, and the{5}poisoning of the rivers over a third of their course.There is a clear prophecy of revolutions on theface of the earth and in the structure of society.And, on the other hand, let us observe how fullysuch general foretokenings are borne out, among{10}other passages of history, in the Vandalicconquest of Africa.

The coast of Africa, between the great desertand the Mediterranean, was one of the mostfruitful and opulent portions of the Roman world.{15}The eastern extremity of it was more especiallyconnected with the empire, containing in itCarthage, Hippo, and other towns, celebrated asbeing sees of the Christian Church, as well asplaces of civil importance. In the spring of the{20}year 428, the Vandals, Arians by creed, andbarbarians by birth and disposition, crossed theStraits of Gibraltar, and proceeded along thisfertile district, bringing with them devastationand captivity on every side. They abandoned{25}themselves to the most savage cruelties andexcesses. They pillaged, ravaged, burned,massacred all that came in their way, sparing not eventhe fruit trees, which might have afforded somepoor food to the remnant of the population, who{30}had escaped from them into caves, the recessesof the mountains, or into vaults. Twice did thisdesolating pestilence sweep over the face of thecountry.

The fury of the Vandals was especially exercisedtowards the memorials of religion. Churches,{5}cemeteries, monasteries, were objects of theirfiercest hatred and most violent assaults. Theybroke into the places of worship, cut to pieces allinternal decorations, and then set fire to them.They tortured bishops and clergy with the hope of{10}obtaining treasure. The names of some of thevictims of their ferocity are preserved. Mansuetus,Bishop of Utica, was burnt alive; Papinianus,Bishop of Vite, was laid upon red-hot plates ofiron. This was near upon the time when the{15}third General Council was assembling at Ephesus,which, from the insecure state of the roads, andthe universal misery which reigned among them,the African bishops were prevented fromattending. The Clergy, the religious brotherhoods, the{20}holy virgins, were scattered all over the country.The daily sacrifice was stopped, the sacramentscould not be obtained, the festivals of the Churchpassed unnoticed. At length, only three citiesremained unvisited by the general{25}desolation,—Carthage, Hippo, and Cirtha.

Hippo was the see of St. Austin, thenseventy-four years of age (forty almost of which had beenpassed in ministerial labors), and warned, bythe law of nature, of the approach of dissolution.It was as if the light of prosperity and peacewere fading away from the African Church, assank the bodily powers of its great earthlyornament and stay. At this time, when the terrors{5}of the barbaric invasion spread on all sides, abishop wrote to him to ask whether it was allowablefor the ruler of a Church to leave the scene of hispastoral duties in order to save his life.Different opinions had heretofore been expressed on{10}this question. In Augustine's own countryTertullian had maintained that flight was unlawful,but he was a Montanist when he so wrote. Onthe other hand, Cyprian had actually fled, andhad defended his conduct when questioned by{15}the clergy of Rome. His contemporaries,Dionysius of Alexandria, and Gregory of Neocæsarea,had fled also; as had Polycarp before them, andAthanasius after them.

Athanasius also had to defend his flight, and he{20}defended it, in a work still extant, thus: First,he observes, it has the sanction of numerousScripture precedents. Thus, in the instance ofconfessors under the old covenant, Jacob fledfrom Esau, Moses from Pharao, David from Saul;{25}Elias concealed himself from Achab three years,and the sons of the prophets were hid by Abdiasin a cave from Jezebel. In like manner underthe Gospel, the disciples hid themselves for fearof the Jews, and St. Paul was let down in a basket{30}over the wall at Damascus. On the other hand,no instance can be adduced of overboldness andheadstrong daring in the saints of Scripture.But our Lord Himself is the chief exemplar offleeing from persecution. As a child in arms Hehad to flee into Egypt. When He returned, He{5}still shunned Judea, and retired to Nazareth.After raising Lazarus, on the Jews seeking Hislife, "He walked no more openly among them,"but retreated to the neighborhood of the desert.When they took up stones to cast at Him, He{10}hid Himself; when they attempted to cast Himdown headlong, He made His way through them;when He heard of the Baptist's death, He retiredacross the lake into a desert place, apart. If itbe said that He did so, because His time was not{15}yet come, and that when it was come, Hedelivered up Himself, we must ask, in reply, how aman can know that his time is come, so as tohave a right to act as Christ acted? And sincewe do not know, we must have patience; and,{20}till God by His own act determines the time, wemust "wander in sheepskins and goatskins,"rather than take the matter into our own hands;as even Saul, the persecutor, was left by Davidin the hands of God, whether He would "strike{25}him, or his day should come to die, or he shouldgo down to battle and perish."

If God's servants, proceeds Athanasius, haveat any time presented themselves before theirpersecutors, it was at God's command: thus Elias{30}showed himself to Achab; so did the prophetfrom Juda, to Jeroboam; and St. Paul appealedto Cæsar. Flight, so far from implyingcowardice, requires often greater courage than not toflee. It is a greater trial of heart. Death is anend of all trouble; he who flees is ever expecting{5}death, and dies daily. Job's life was not to betouched by Satan, yet was not his fortitudeshown in what he suffered? Exile is full ofmiseries. The after-conduct of the saints showedthey had not fled for fear. Jacob, on his{10}death-bed, contemned death, and blessed each of thetwelve Patriarchs; Moses returned, andpresented himself before Pharao; David was avaliant warrior; Elias rebuked Achab andOchazias; Peter and Paul, who had once hid{15}themselves, offered themselves to martyrdom atRome. And so acceptable was the previousflight of these men to Almighty God, that weread of His showing them some special favorduring it. Then it was that Jacob had the{20}vision of Angels; Moses saw the burning bush;David wrote his prophetic Psalms; Elias raisedthe dead, and gathered the people on MountCarmel. How would the Gospel ever have beenpreached throughout the world, if the Apostles{25}had not fled? And, since their time, those, too,who have become martyrs, at first fled; or, if theyadvanced to meet their persecutors, it was bysome secret suggestion of the Divine Spirit. But,above all, while these instances abundantly{30}illustrate the rule of duty in persecution, and thetemper of mind necessary in those who observeit, we have that duty itself declared in a plainprecept by no other than our Lord: "When theyshall persecute you in this city," He says, "fleeinto another;" and "let them that are in Judea{5}flee unto the mountains."

Thus argues the great Athanasius, living inspirit with the saints departed, while full oflabor and care here on earth. For thearguments on the other side, let us turn to a writer,{10}not less vigorous in mind, but less subdued intemper. Thus writes Tertullian on the samesubject, then a Montanist, a century and a halfearlier: Nothing happens, he says, withoutGod's will. Persecution is sent by Him, to put{15}His servants to the test; to divide between goodand bad: it is a trial; what man has any rightto interfere? He who gives the prize, alone canassign the combat. Persecution is more thanpermitted, it is actually appointed by Almighty{20}God. It does the Church much good, as leadingChristians to increased seriousness while it lasts.It comes and goes at God's ordering. Satancould not touch Job, except so far as God gavepermission. He could not touch the Apostles,{25}except as far as an opening was allowed in thewords, "Satan hath desired to have you, but Ihave prayed for thee," Peter, "and thou, beingonce converted, confirm thy brethren." Wepray, "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver{30}us from evil;" why, if we may deliver ourselves?Satan is permitted access to us, either forpunishment, as in Saul's case, or for our chastisement.Since the persecution comes from God, we maynot lawfully avoid it, nor can we avoid it. Wecannot, because He is all powerful; we must not,{5}because He is all good. We should leave thematter entirely to God. As to the command offleeing from city to city, this was temporary. Itwas intended to secure the preaching of theGospel to the nations. While the Apostles preached{10}to the Jews,—till they had preached to theGentiles,—they were to flee; but one might aswell argue, that we now are not to go "into theway of the Gentiles," but to confine ourselvesto "the lost sheep of the house of Israel," as that{15}we are now to "flee from city to city." Nor,indeed, was going from city to city a flight; it wasa continued preaching; not an accident, but arule: whether persecuted or not, they were to goabout; and before they had gone through the{20}cities of Israel, the Lord was to come. Thecommand contemplated only those very cities.If St. Paul escaped out of "Damascus by night,yet afterwards, against the prayers of the disciplesand the prophecy of Agabus, he went up to{25}Jerusalem. Thus the command to flee did not lasteven through the lifetime of the Apostles; and,indeed, why should God introduce persecution,if He bids us retire from it? This is imputinginconsistency to His acts. If we want texts to{30}justify our not fleeing, He says, "Whoso shallconfess Me before men, I will confess him beforeMy Father." "Blessed are they that sufferpersecution;" "He that shall persevere to the end,he shall be saved;" "Be not afraid of them thatkill the body;" "Whosoever does not carry his{5}cross and come after Me, cannot be My disciple."How are these texts fulfilled when a man flees.Christ, who is our pattern, did not more thanpray, "If it be possible, let this chalice pass:"we, too, should both stay and pray as He did.{10}And it is expressly told us, that "We also oughtto lay down our lives for the brethren." Again, itis said, "Perfect charity casteth out fear;" hewho flees, fears; he who fears, "is not perfectedin charity." The Greek proverb is sometimes{15}urged, "He who flees, will fight another day;"yes, and he may flee another day, also. Again,if bishops, priests, and deacons flee, why mustthe laity stay? or must they flee also? "Thegood shepherd," on the contrary, "layeth down{20}his life for his sheep"; whereas, the bad shepherd"seeth the wolf coming, and leaveth the sheep,and fleeth." At no time, as Jeremiah, Ezekiel,and Zechariah tell us, is the flock in greaterdanger of being scattered than when it loses its{25}shepherd. Tertullian ends thus: "This doctrine, mybrother, perhaps appears to you hard; nay,intolerable. But recollect that God has said, 'Hethat can take, let him take it;' that is, he whoreceives it not, let him depart. He who fears to{30}suffer cannot belong to Him who has suffered.He who does not fear to suffer is perfect in love,that is, of God. Many are called, few are chosen.Not he who would walk the broad way is soughtout by God, but he who walks the narrow."Thus the ingenious and vehement Tertullian.{5}

III

With these remarks for and against flight inpersecution, we shall be prepared to listen toAugustine on the subject; I have said, it wasbrought under his notice by a brother bishop,with reference to the impending visitation of the{10}barbarians. His answer happily is preserved tous, and extracts from it shall now be set beforethe reader.

"To his Holy Brothers and Fellow-bishopHonoratus, Augustine sends Health in the Lord

"I thought the copy of my letter to our brotherQuodvultdeus, which I sent to you, would have been{15}sufficient, dear brother, without the task you put on meof counseling you on the proper course to pursue underour existing dangers. It was certainly a short letter;yet I included every question which it was necessary toask and answer, when I said that no persons were{20}hindered from retiring to such fortified places as they wereable and desirous to secure; while, on the other hand, wemight not break the bonds of our ministry, by whichthe love of Christ has engaged us not to desert the Church,where we are bound to serve. The following is what I{25}laid down in the letter I refer to: 'It remains, then,'I say, 'that, though God's people in the place where weare be ever so few, yet, if it does stay, we, whose ministrationis necessary to its staying, must say to the Lord,Thou art our strong rock and place of defense.'

"But you tell me that this view is not sufficient foryou, from an apprehension lest we should be runningcounter to our Lord's command and example, to flee{5}from city to city. Yet is it conceivable that He meantthat our flocks, whom He bought with His own blood,should be deprived of that necessary ministrationwithout which they cannot live? Is He a precedent forthis, who was carried in flight into Egypt by His parents{10}when but a child, before He had formed Churches whichwe can talk of His leaving? Or, when St. Paul was letdown in a basket through a window, lest the enemyshould seize him, and so escaped his hands, was the Churchof that place bereft of its necessary ministration, seeing{15}there were other brethren stationed there to fulfill whatwas necessary? Evidently it was their wish that he,who was the direct object of the persecutors' search,should preserve himself for the sake of the Church.Let then, the servants of Christ, the ministers of His{20}word and sacraments, do in such cases as He enjoinedor permitted. Let such of them, by all means, flee fromcity to city, as are special objects of persecution; sothat they who are not thus attacked desert not theChurch, but give meat to those their fellow-servants,{25}who they know cannot live without it. But in a casewhen all classes—I mean bishops, clergy, andpeople—are in some common danger, let not those who need theaid of others be deserted by those whom they need. Eitherlet one and all remove into some fortified place, or, if{30}any are obliged to remain, let them not be abandonedby those who have to supply their ecclesiastical necessity,so that they may survive in common, or suffer in commonwhat their Father decrees they should undergo."

Then he makes mention of the argument of a{35}certain bishop, that "if our Lord has enjoinedupon us flight, in persecutions which may ripeninto martyrdom, much more is it necessary toflee from barren sufferings in a barbarian andhostile invasion," and he says, "this is true andreasonable, in the case of such as have no{5}ecclesiastical office to tie them"; but he continues:

"Why should men make no question about obeyingthe precept of fleeing from city to city, and yet haveno dread of 'the hireling who seeth the wolf coming, andfleeth, because he careth not for the sheep'? Why do{10}they not try to reconcile (as they assuredly can) thesetwo incontrovertible declarations of our Lord, one ofwhich suffers and commands flight, the other arraignsand condemns it? And what other mode is there ofreconciling them than that which I have above laid down?{15}viz., that we, the ministers of Christ, who are under thepressure of persecution, arethenat liberty to leave ourposts, when no flock is left for us to serve; or again,when, though there be a flock, yet there are others tosupply our necessary ministry, who have not the same{20}reason for fleeing,—as in the case of St. Paul; or,again, of the holy Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria,who was especially sought after by the emperorConstantius, while the Catholic people, who remainedtogether in Alexandria, were in no measure deserted by the{25}other ministers. But when the people remain, and theministers flee, and the ministration is suspended, whatis that but the guilty flight of hirelings, who care not forthe sheep? For then the wolf will come,—not man, butthe devil, who is accustomed to persuade such believers{30}to apostasy, who are bereft of the daily ministration ofthe Lord's Body; and by your, not knowledge, butignorance of duty, the weak brother will perish, for whomChrist died.

"Let us only consider, when matters come to an{35}extremity of danger, and there is no longer any meansof escape, how persons flock together to the Church, ofboth sexes, and all ages, begging for baptism, orreconciliation, or even for works of penance, and one andall of them for consolation, and the consecration and{5}application of the sacraments. Now, if ministers arewanting, what ruin awaits those, who depart from thislife unregenerate or unabsolved! Consider the griefof their believing relatives, who will not have them aspartakers with themselves in the rest of eternal life;{10}consider the anguish of the whole multitude, nay, thecursings of some of them, at the absence of ministrationand ministers.

"It may be said, however, that the ministers of Godought to avoid such imminent perils, in order to{15}preserve themselves for the profit of the Church for moretranquil times. I grant it where others are present tosupply the ecclesiastical ministry, as in the case ofAthanasius. How necessary it was to the Church, howbeneficial, that such a man should remain in the flesh, the{20}Catholic faith bears witness, which was maintainedagainst the Arians by his voice and his love. But whenthere is a common danger, and when there is ratherreason to apprehend lest a man should be thought toflee, not from purpose of prudence, but from dread of{25}dying, and when the example of flight does more harmthan the service of living does good, it is by no meansto be done. To be brief, holy David withdrew himselffrom the hazard of war, lest perchance he should 'quenchthe light of Israel,' at the instance of his people, not on{30}his own motion. Otherwise, he would have occasionedmany imitators of an inactivity which they had in thatcase ascribed, not to regard for the welfare of others,but to cowardice."

Then he goes on to a further question, what is{35}to be done in a case where all ministers are likelyto perish, unless some of them take to flight? orwhen persecution is set on foot only with the viewof reaching the ministers of the Church? Thisleads him to exclaim:

"O, that there may be then a quarrel between God's{5}ministers,whoare to remain, andwhoto flee, lest theChurch should be deserted, whether by all fleeing or alldying! Surely there will ever be such a quarrel, whereeach party burns in its own charity, yet indulges thecharity of the other. In such a difficulty, the lot seems{10}the fairest decision, in default of others. God judgesbetter than man in perplexities of this sort; whether itbe His will to reward the holier among them with thecrown of martyrdom, and to spare the weak, or again,to strengthen the latter to endure evil, removing those{15}from life whom the Church of God can spare the better.Should it, however, seem inexpedient to castlots,—a measure for which I cannot bring precedent,—atleast, let no one's flight be the cause of the Church'slosing those ministrations which, in such dangers, are{20}so necessary and so imperative. Let no one makehimself an exception, on the plea of having some particulargrace, which gives him a claim to life, and therefore toflight.

"It is sometimes supposed that bishops and clergy,{25}remaining at their posts in dangers of this kind, misleadtheir flocks into staying, by their example. But it iseasy for us to remove this objection or imputation, byfrankly telling them not to be misled by our remaining.'We are remaining for your sake,' we must say, 'lest you{30}should fail to obtain such ministration, as we know tobe necessary to your salvation in Christ. Make yourescape, and you will then set us free.' The occasion forsaying this is when there seems some real advantage inretiring to a safer position. Should all or some make{35}answer, 'We are in His hands from whose anger no onecan flee anywhere; whose mercy every one may findeverywhere, though he stir not, whether some necessarytie detains him, or the uncertainty of safe escape detershim'; most undoubtedly such persons are not to beleft destitute of Christian ministrations.{5}

"I have written these lines, dearest brother, in truth,as I think, and in sure charity, by way of reply, since youhave consulted me; but not as dictating, if, perchance,you may find some better view to guide you. However,better we cannot do in these perils than pray the Lord{10}our God to have mercy upon us."—Ep.228.

The luminous judgment, the calm faith, andthe single-minded devotion which this letterexhibits, were fully maintained in the conduct ofthe far-famed writer, in the events which{15}followed. It was written on the first entrance ofthe Vandals into Africa, about two years beforethey laid siege to Hippo; and during thisinterval of dreadful suspense and excitement, as wellas of actual suffering, amid the desolation of the{20}Church around him, with the prospect of his ownpersonal trials, we find this unwearied teachercarrying on his works of love by pen, and wordof mouth,—eagerly, as knowing his time wasshort, but tranquilly, as if it were a season of{25}prosperity....

His life had been for many years one of greatanxiety and discomfort, the life of one dissatisfiedwith himself, and despairing of finding the truth.Men of ordinary minds are not so circumstanced{30}as to feel the misery of irreligion. That miseryconsists in the perverted and discordant actionof the various faculties and functions of the soul,which have lost their legitimate governing power,and are unable to regain it, except at the hands{5}of their Maker. Now the run of irreligious mendo not suffer in any great degree from thisdisorder, and are not miserable; they have neithergreat talents nor strong passions; they have notwithin them the materials of rebellion in such{10}measure as to threaten their peace. They followtheir own wishes, they yield to the bent of themoment, they act on inclination, not on principle,but their motive powers are neither strong norvarious enough to be troublesome. Their minds{15}are in no sense under rule; but anarchy is not intheir case a state of confusion, but of deadness;not unlike the internal condition as it is reportedof eastern cities and provinces at present, inwhich, though the government is weak or null,{20}the body politic goes on without any greatembarrassment or collision of its members one withanother, by the force of inveterate habit. It isvery different when the moral and intellectualprinciples are vigorous, active, and developed.{25}Then, if the governing power be feeble, all thesubordinates are in the position of rebels in arms;and what the state of a mind is under suchcircumstances, the analogy of a civil community willsuggest to us. Then we have before us the{30}melancholy spectacle of high aspirations withoutan aim, a hunger of the soul unsatisfied, and anever ending restlessness and inward warfare ofits various faculties. Gifted minds, if notsubmitted to the rightful authority of religion,become the most unhappy and the most mischievous.{5}They need both an object to feed upon, and thepower of self-mastery; and the love of theirMaker, and nothing but it, supplies both the oneand the other. We have seen in our own day, inthe case of a popular poet, an impressive instance{10}of a great genius throwing off the fear of God,seeking for happiness in the creature, roamingunsatisfied from one object to another, breakinghis soul upon itself, and bitterly confessing andimparting his wretchedness to all around him.{15}I have no wish at all to compare him to St.Augustine; indeed, if we may say it withoutpresumption, the very different termination of their trialseems to indicate some great difference in theirrespective modes of encountering it. The one{20}dies of premature decay, to all appearance, ahardened infidel; and if he is still to have a name,will live in the mouths of men by writings at onceblasphemous and immoral: the other is a Saintand Doctor of the Church. Each makes{25}confessions, the one to the saints, the other to thepowers of evil. And does not the difference ofthe two discover itself in some measure, even toour eyes, in the very history of their wanderingsand pinings? At least, there is no appearance in{30}St. Augustine's case of that dreadful haughtiness,sullenness, love of singularity, vanity, irritability,and misanthropy, which were too certainly thecharacteristics of our own countryman.Augustine was, as his early history shows, a man ofaffectionate and tender feelings, and open and{5}amiable temper; and, above all, he sought for someexcellence external to his own mind, instead ofconcentrating all his contemplations on himself.

But let us consider what his misery was; itwas that of a mind imprisoned, solitary, and wild{10}with spiritual thirst; and forced to betake itselfto the strongest excitements, by way of relievingitself of the rush and violence of feelings, of whichthe knowledge of the Divine Perfections was thetrue and sole sustenance. He ran into excess,{15}not from love of it, but from this fierce fever ofmind. "I sought what I might love,"[28]he saysin his Confessions, "in love with loving, and safetyI hated, and a way without snares. For withinme was a famine of that inward food, Thyself,{20}my God; yet throughout that famine I was nothungered, but was without any longing forincorruptible sustenance, not because filled therewith,but the more empty, the more I loathed it. Forthis cause my soul was sickly and full of sores; it{25}miserably cast itself forth, desiring to be scrapedby the touch of objects of sense."—iii. I.

[28]Most of these translations are from the Oxford edition of 1838.

"O foolish man that I then was," he says elsewhere,"enduring impatiently the lot of man! So I fretted,sighed, wept, was distracted; had neither rest norcounsel. For I bore about a shattered and bleedingsoul, impatient of being borne by me, yet where to reposeit I found not; not in calm groves, nor in games andmusic, nor in fragrant spots, nor in curious banquetings,{5}nor in indulgence of the bed and the couch, nor, finally, inbooks or poetry found it repose. All things looked ghastly,yea, the very light. In groaning and tears alone foundI a little refreshment. But when my soul was withdrawnfrom them, a huge load of misery weighed me down.{10}To Thee, O Lord, it ought to have been raised, for Theeto lighten; I knew it, but neither could, nor would;the more, since when I thought of Thee, Thou wast notto me any solid or substantial thing. For Thou wert notThyself, but a mere phantom, and my error was my God.{15}If I offered to discharge my load thereon, that it mightrest, it glided through the void, and came rushing downagainst me; and I had remained to myself a haplessspot, where I could neither be, nor be from thence. Forwhither should my heart flee from my heart? whither{20}should I flee from myself? whither not follow myself?And yet I fled out of my country; for so should mineeyes look less forhim, where they were not wont to seehim."—iv. 12.

He is speaking in this last sentence of a friend he{25}had lost, whose death-bed was very remarkable,and whose dear familiar name he apparently hasnot courage to mention. "He had grown from achild with me," he says, "and we had been bothschoolfellows and playfellows." Augustine had{30}misled him into the heresy which he had adoptedhimself, and when he grew to have more and moresympathy in Augustine's pursuits, the latter unitedhimself to him in a closer intimacy. Scarcely hadhe thus given him his heart, when God took him.{35}

"Thou tookest him," he says, "out of this life, when hehad scarce completed one whole year of my friendship,sweet to me above all sweetness in that life of mine.A long while, sore sick of a fever, he lay senseless in thedews of death, and being given over, he was baptized{5}unwitting; I, meanwhile little regarding, or presumingthat his soul would retain rather what it had receivedof me than what was wrought on his unconscious body."

The Manichees, it should be observed, rejectedbaptism. He proceeds:{10}

"But it proved far otherwise; for he was refreshedand restored. Forthwith, as soon as I could speak withhim (and I could as soon as he was able, for I never lefthim, and we hung but too much upon each other), Iessayed to jest with him, as though he would jest with{15}me at that baptism, which he had received, whenutterly absent in mind and feeling, but had now understoodthat he had received. But he shrunk from me, as froman enemy; and with a wonderful and sudden freedombade me, if I would continue his friend, forbear such{20}language to him. I, all astonished and amazed,suppressed all my emotions till he should grow well, and hishealth were strong enough for me to deal with him as Iwould. But he was taken away from my madness, thatwith Thee he might be preserved for my comfort: a few{25}days after, in my absence, he was attacked again byfever, and so departed."—iv. 8.

From distress of mind Augustine left his nativeplace, Thagaste, and came to Carthage, where hebecame a teacher in rhetoric. Here he fell in{30}with Faustus, an eminent Manichean bishop anddisputant, in whom, however, he wasdisappointed; and the disappointment abated hisattachment to his sect, and disposed him to lookfor truth elsewhere. Disgusted with the licensewhich prevailed among the students at Carthage,{5}he determined to proceed to Rome, anddisregarding and eluding the entreaties of his mother,Monica, who dreaded his removal from his owncountry, he went thither. At Rome he resumedhis professions; but inconveniences as great,{10}though of another kind, encountered him in thatcity; and upon the people of Milan sending for arhetoric reader, he made application for theappointment, and obtained it. To Milan then hecame, the city of St. Ambrose, in the year of our{15}Lord 385.

Ambrose, though weak in voice, had thereputation of eloquence; and Augustine, who seemsto have gone with introductions to him, and waswon by his kindness of manner, attended his{20}sermons with curiosity and interest. "I listened,"he says, "not in the frame of mind which becameme, but in order to see whether his eloquenceanswered, what was reported of it: I hung on hiswords attentively, but of the matter I was but an{25}unconcerned and contemptuous hearer."—v. 23.His impression of his style of preaching is worthnoticing: "I was delighted with the sweetnessof his discourse, more full of knowledge, yet inmanner less pleasurable and soothing, than that{30}of Faustus." Augustine was insensibly moved:he determined on leaving the Manichees, andreturning to the state of a catechumen in theCatholic Church, into which he had been admittedby his parents. He began to eye and muse uponthe great bishop of Milan more and more, and tried{5}in vain to penetrate his secret heart, and toascertain the thoughts and feelings which swayed him.He felt he did not understand him. If therespect and intimacy of the great could makea man happy, these advantages he perceived{10}Ambrose to possess; yet he was not satisfied thathe was a happy man. His celibacy seemed adrawback: what constituted his hidden life? orwas he cold at heart? or was he of a famishedand restless spirit? He felt his own malady, and{15}longed to ask him some questions about it. ButAmbrose could not easily be spoken with. Thoughaccessible to all, yet that very circumstancemade it difficult for an individual, especially onewho was not of his flock, to get a private{20}interview with him. When he was not taken up withthe Christian people who surrounded him, hewas either at his meals or engaged in privatereading. Augustine used to enter, as all personsmight, without being announced; but after{25}staying awhile, afraid of interrupting him, hedeparted again. However, he heard his expositionsof Scripture every Sunday, and gradually madeprogress.

He was now in his thirtieth year, and since he{30}was a youth of eighteen had been searching aftertruth; yet he was still "in the same mire, greedy ofthings present," but finding nothing stable.

"To-morrow," he said to himself, "I shall find it; itwill appear manifestly, and I shall grasp it: lo, Faustusthe Manichee will come and clear everything! O you{5}great men, ye academics, is it true, then, that nocertainty can be attained for the ordering of life? Nay,let us search diligently, and despair not. Lo, things inthe ecclesiastical books are not absurd to us now, whichsometimes seemed absurd, and may be otherwise taken{10}and in a good sense. I will take my stand where, as achild, my parents placed me, until the clear truth befound out. But where shall it be sought, or when?Ambrose has no leisure; we have no leisure to read;where shall we find even the books? where, or when,{15}procure them? Let set times be appointed, andcertain hours be ordered for the health of our soul. Greathope has dawned; the Catholic faith teaches not whatwe thought; and do we doubt to knock, that the restmay be opened? The forenoons, indeed, our scholars{20}take up; what do we during the rest of our time? whynot this? But if so, when pay we court to our greatfriend, whose favors we need? when compose what wemay sell to scholars? when refresh ourselves, unbendingour minds from this intenseness of care?{25}

"Perish everything: dismiss we these emptyvanities; and betake ourselves to the one search for truth!Life is a poor thing, death is uncertain; if it surprisesus, in what state shall we depart hence? and when shallwe learn what here we have neglected? and shall we not{30}rather suffer the punishment of this negligence? Whatif death itself cut off and end all care and feeling?Then must this be ascertained. But God forbid this!It is no vain and empty thing, that the excellent dignityof the Christian faith has overspread the whole world.{35}Never would such and so great things be wrought forus by God, if with the body the soul also came to anend. Wherefore delay then to abandon worldly hopes,and give ourselves wholly to seek after God and theblessed life?..."

Finding Ambrose, though kind and accessible,{5}yet reserved, he went to an aged man namedSimplician, who, as some say, baptized St.Ambrose, and eventually succeeded him in hissee. He opened his mind to him, andhappening in the course of his communications to{10}mention Victorinus's translation of some Platonicworks, Simplician asked him if he knew thatperson's history. It seems he was a professor ofrhetoric at Rome, was well versed in literature andphilosophy, had been tutor to many of the{15}senators, and had received the high honor of a statuein the Forum. Up to his old age he hadprofessed, and defended with his eloquence, the oldpagan worship. He was led to read the HolyScriptures, and was brought, in consequence, to{20}a belief in their divinity. For a while he did notfeel the necessity of changing his profession; helooked upon Christianity as a philosophy, heembraced it as such, but did not propose to joinwhat he considered the Christian sect, or, as{25}Christians would call it, the Catholic Church.He let Simplician into his secret; but wheneverthe latter pressed him to take the step, he wasaccustomed to ask, "whether walls made aChristian." However, such a state could not{30}continue with a man of earnest mind: the leavenworked; at length he unexpectedly called uponSimplician to lead him to church. He wasadmitted a catechumen, and in due time baptized,"Rome wondering, the Church rejoicing." Itwas customary at Rome for the candidates for{5}baptism to profess their faith from a raised placein the church, in a set form of words. An offerwas made to Victorinus, which was not unusualin the case of bashful and timid persons, to makehis profession in private. But he preferred to{10}make it in the ordinary way. "I was publicenough," he made answer, "in my profession ofrhetoric, and ought not to be frightened whenprofessing salvation." He continued the schoolwhich he had before he became a Christian, till{15}the edict of Julian forced him to close it. Thisstory went to Augustine's heart, but it did notmelt it. There was still the struggle of two wills,the high aspiration and the habitual inertness.His conversion took place in the summer of 386.{20}

He gives an account of the termination of theconflict he underwent:

"At length burst forth a mighty storm, bringinga mighty flood of tears; and to indulge it to the fulleven unto cries, in solitude, I rose up from Alypius, ...{25}who perceived from my choked voice how it was withme. He remained where we had been sitting, in deepastonishment. I threw myself down under a fig tree, Iknow not how, and allowing my tears full vent, offeredup to Thee the acceptable sacrifice of my streaming eyes.{30}And I cried out to this effect: 'And Thou, O Lord,how long, how long, Lord, wilt Thou be angry?Forever? Remember not our old sins!' for I felt that theywere my tyrants. I cried out, piteously, 'How long?how long? to-morrow and to-morrow? why notnow?{5}why not in this very hour put an end to this my vileness?'While I thus spoke, with tears, in the bitter contritionof my heart, suddenly I heard a voice, as if from a housenear me, of a boy or girl chanting forth again and again,'TAKE UP AND READ, TAKE UP AND READ!' Changing{10}countenance at these words, I began intently to thinkwhether boys used them in any game, but could notrecollect that I had ever heard them. I left weeping androse up, considering it a divine intimation to open theScriptures and read what first presented itself. I had{15}heard that Antony had come in during the reading of theGospel, and had taken to himself the admonition, 'Go,sell all that thou hast,' etc., and had turned to Thee atonce, in consequence of that oracle. I had left St.Paul's volume where Alypius was sitting, when I rose{20}thence. I returned thither, seized it, opened, and readin silence the following passage, which first met my eyes,'Not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering andimpurities, not in contention and envy, but put ye on theLord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh in{25}its concupiscences.' I had neither desire nor need toread farther. As I finished the sentence, as though thelight of peace had been poured into my heart, all theshadows of doubt dispersed. Thus hast Thou convertedme to Thee, so as no longer to seek either for wife or{30}other hope of this world, standing fast in that rule offaith in which Thou so many years before hadst revealedme to my mother."—viii. 26-30.

The last words of this extract relate to a dreamwhich his mother had had some years before,{35}concerning his conversion. On his first turningManichee, abhorring his opinions, she would notfor a while even eat with him, when she had thisdream, in which she had an intimation that whereshe stood, there Augustine should one day bewith her. At another time she derived great{5}comfort from the casual words of a bishop, who,when importuned by her to converse with herson, said at length with some impatience, "Gothy ways, and God bless thee, for it is not possiblethat the son of these tears should perish!"{10}would be out of place, and is perhaps unnecessary,to enter here into the affecting and well-knownhistory of her tender anxieties and perseveringprayers for Augustine. Suffice it to say, she sawthe accomplishment of them; she lived till{15}Augustine became a Catholic; and she died in her wayback to Africa with him. Her last words were,"Lay this body anywhere; let not the care of itin any way distress you; this only I ask, thatwherever you be, you remember me at the Altar{20}of the Lord."

"May she," says her son, in dutiful remembrance ofher words, "rest in peace with her husband, before andafter whom she never had any; whom she obeyed, withpatience bringing forth fruit unto Thee, that she might{25}win him also unto Thee. And inspire, O Lord my God,inspire Thy servants, my brethren,—Thy sons, mymasters,—whom, in heart, voice, and writing I serve,that so many as read these confessions, may at Thy altarremember Monica, Thy handmaid, with Patricius, her{30}sometime husband, from whom Thou broughtest me intothis life; how, I know not. May they with pious affectionremember those who were my parents in thistransitory light,—my brethren under Thee, our Father,in our Catholic Mother,—my fellow-citizens in theeternal Jerusalem, after which Thy pilgrim people sighfrom their going forth unto their return: that so, her{5}last request of me may in the prayers of many receivea fulfillment, through my confessions, more abundantthan through my prayers."—ix. 37.

Introductory

I confess to a delight in reading the lives, anddwelling on the characters and actions, of theSaints of the first ages, such as I receive from nonebesides them; and for this reason, because weknow so much more about them than about most{5}of the Saints who come after them. People arevariously constituted; what influences one doesnot influence another. There are persons ofwarm imaginations, who can easily picture tothemselves what they never saw. They can at{10}will see Angels and Saints hovering over themwhen they are in church; they see theirlineaments, their features, their motions, theirgestures, their smile or their grief. They can gohome and draw what they have seen, from the{15}vivid memory of what, while it lasted, was sotransporting. I am not one of such; I am touchedby my five senses, by what my eyes behold andmy ears hear. I am touched by what I readabout, not by what I myself create. As faith{20}need not lead to practice, so in me mereimagination does not lead to devotion. I gain morefrom the life of our Lord in the Gospels than froma treatisede Deo. I gain more from three versesof St. John than from the three points of ameditation. I like a Spanish crucifix of painted woodmore than one from Italy, which is made of gold.I am more touched by the Seven Dolors than bythe Immaculate Conception; I am more devout{5}to St. Gabriel than to one of Isaiah's seraphim.I love St. Paul more than one of those firstCarmelites, his contemporaries, whose names and actsno one ever heard of; I feel affectionately towardsthe Alexandrian Dionysius, I do homage to St.{10}George. I do not say that my way is better thananother's; but it is my way, and an allowableway. And it is the reason why I am so speciallyattached to the Saints of the third and fourthcentury, because we know so much about them.{15}This is why I feel a devout affection for St.Chrysostom. He and the rest of them havewritten autobiography on a large scale; theyhave given us their own histories, their thoughts,words, and actions, in a number of goodly folios,{20}productions which are in themselves some of theirmeritorious works....

The Ancient Saints have left behind them justthat kind of literature which more than any otherrepresents the abundance of the heart, which{25}more than any other approaches to conversation;I mean correspondence. Why is it that we feelan interest in Cicero which we cannot feel inDemosthenes or Plato? Plato is the very typeof soaring philosophy, and Demosthenes of{30}forcible eloquence; Cicero is something more thanan orator and a sage; he is not a mere ideality, heis a man and a brother; he is one of ourselves.We do not merely believe it, or infer it, but wehave the enduring and living evidence ofit—how? In his letters. He can be studied,{5}criticised if you will; but still dwelt upon andsympathized with also. Now the case of the AncientSaints is parallel to that of Cicero. We have theirletters in a marvelous profusion. We haveabove 400 letters of St. Basil's; above 200 of{10}St. Augustine's. St. Chrysostom has left usabout 240; St. Gregory Nazianzen the samenumber; Pope St. Gregory as many as 840....

A Saint's writings are to me his real "Life";and whatis calledhis "Life" is not the outline{15}of an individual, but either of theauto-saintorof a myth. Perhaps I shall be asked what Imean by "Life." I mean a narrative whichimpresses the reader with the idea of moral unity,identity, growth, continuity, personality. When{20}a Saint converses with me, I am conscious of thepresence of one active principle of thought, oneindividual character, flowing on and into thevarious matters which he discusses, and thedifferent transactions in which he mixes. It is{25}what no memorials can reach, however skillfullyelaborated, however free from effort or study,however conscientiously faithful, howeverguaranteed by the veracity of the writers. Whycannot art rival the lily or the rose? Because the{30}colors of the flower are developed and blendedby the force of an inward life; while on the otherhand, the lights and shades of the painter arediligently laid on from without. A magnifyingglass will show the difference. Nor will itimprove matters, though not one only, but a dozen{5}good artists successively take part in the picture;even if the outline is unbroken, the coloring ismuddy. Commonly, what is called "the Life,"is little more than a collection of anecdotes broughttogether from a number of independent quarters;{10}anecdotes striking, indeed, and edifying, butvaluable in themselves rather than valuable as partsof a biography; valuable whoever was thesubject of them, not valuable as illustrating aparticular Saint. It would be difficult to mistake{15}for each other a paragraph of St. Ambrose, or ofSt. Jerome, or of St. Augustine; it would be veryeasy to mistake a chapter in the life of one holymissionary or nun for a chapter in the life ofanother.{20}

An almsgiving here, an instance of meeknessthere, a severity of penance, a round of religiousduties,—all these things humble me, instructme, improve me; I cannot desire anythingbetter of their kind; but they do not necessarily{25}coalesce into the image of a person. From suchworks I do but learn to pay devotion to anabstract and typical perfection under a certainparticular name; I do not know more of the realSaint who bore it than before. Saints, as other{30}men, differ from each other in this, that themultitude of qualities which they have incommon are differently combined in each of them.This forms one great part of their personality.One Saint is remarkable for fortitude; not thathe has not other heroic virtues byconcomitance,{5}as it may be called, but by virtue of that one giftin particular he has won his crown. Another isremarkable for patient hope, another forrenunciation of the world. Such a particular virtuemay be said to give form to all the rest which are{10}grouped round it, and are molded and modifiedby means of it. Thus it is that often what isright in one would be wrong in another; and, infact, the very same action is allowed or chosenby one, and shunned by another, as being{15}consistent or inconsistent with their respectivecharacters,—pretty much as in the combination ofcolors, each separate tint takes a shade fromthe rest, and is good or bad from its company.The whole gives a meaning to the parts; but it{20}is difficult to rise from the parts to the whole.When I read St. Augustine or St. Basil, I holdconverse with a beautiful grace-illumined soul,looking out into this world of sense, and leaveningit with itself; when I read a professed life of him,{25}I am wandering in a labyrinth of which I cannotfind the center and heart, and am but conductedout of doors again when I do my best to penetratewithin.

This seems to me, to tell the truth, a sort of{30}pantheistic treatment of the Saints. I ask somethingmore than to stumble upon thedisjectamembraof what ought to be a living whole. Itake but a secondary interest in books whichchop up a Saint into chapters of faith, hope,charity, and the cardinal virtues. They are too{5}scientific to be devotional. They have theirgreat utility, but it is not the utility which theyprofess. They do not manifest a Saint, theymince him into spiritual lessons. They arerightly called spiritual reading, that is just what{10}they are, and they cannot possibly be anythingbetter; but they are not anything else. Theycontain a series of points of meditation onparticular virtues, made easier because those pointsare put under the patronage and the invocation{15}of a Saint. With a view to learning realdevotion to him, I prefer (speaking for myself) to haveany one action or event of his life drawn outminutely, with his own comments upon it, thana score of virtues, or of acts of one virtue, strung{20}together in as many sentences. Now, in theancient writings I have spoken of, certaintransactions are thoroughly worked out. We know allthat happened to a Saint on such or such anoccasion, all that was done by him. We have a view{25}of his character, his tastes, his natural infirmities,his struggles and victories over them, which inno other way can be attained. And therefore itis that, without quarreling with the devotion ofothers, I give the preference to my own.{30}

Here another great subject opens upon us,when I ought to be bringing these remarks toan end; I mean the endemic perennial fidgetwhich possesses us about giving scandal; factsare omitted in great histories, or glosses are putupon memorable acts, because they are thought{5}not edifying, whereas of all scandals suchomissions, such glosses, are the greatest. But I amgetting far more argumentative than I thoughtto be when I began; so I lay my pen down, andretire into myself.{10}

John of Antioch, from his sanctity and hiseloquence called Chrysostom, was approachingsixty years of age, when he had to deliver himselfup to the imperial officers, and to leaveConstantinople for a distant exile. He had been the great{15}preacher of the day now for nearly twenty years;first at Antioch, then in the metropolis of theEast; and his gift of speech, as in the instance ofthe two great classical orators before him, was tobe his ruin. He had made an Empress his enemy,{20}more powerful than Antipater,—as passionate,if not so vindictive, as Fulvia. Nor was this all;a zealous Christian preacher offends notindividuals merely, but classes of men, and much moreso when he is pastor and ruler too, and has to{25}punish as well as to denounce. Eudoxia, theEmpress, might be taken off suddenly,—asindeed she was taken off a few weeks after theSaint arrived at the place of exile, which she personally,in spite of his entreaties, had marked outfor him; but her death did but serve to increasethe violence of the persecution directed againsthim. She had done her part in it, perhaps shemight have even changed her mind in his favor;{5}probably the agitation of a bad conscience was,in her critical condition, the cause of her death.She was taken out of the way; but her partisans,who had made use of her, went on vigorouslywith the evil work which she had begun. When{10}Cucusus would not kill him, they sent him on histravels anew, across a far wilder country than hehad already traversed, to a remote town on theeastern coast of the Euxine; and he sank underthis fresh trial.{15}

The Euxine! that strange mysterious sea,which typifies the abyss of outer darkness, asthe blue Mediterranean basks under the smile ofheaven in the center of civilization and religion.The awful, yet splendid drama of man's history{20}has mainly been carried on upon theMediterranean shores; while the Black Sea has ever beenon the very outskirts of the habitable world,and the scene of wild unnatural portents; withlegends of Prometheus on the savage Caucasus,{25}of Medea gathering witch herbs in the moistmeadows of the Phasis, and of Iphigeniasacrificing the shipwrecked stranger in Taurica; andthen again, with the more historical, yet not moregrateful visions of barbarous tribes, Goths, Huns,{30}Scythians, Tartars, flitting over the steppes andwastes which encircle its inhospitable waters.To be driven from the bright cities and sunnyclime of Italy or Greece to such a region, wasworse than death; and the luxurious Romanactually preferred death to exile. The suicide{5}of Gallus, under this dread doom, is well known;Ovid, too cowardly to be desperate, drained outthe dregs of a vicious life on the cold marshesbetween the Danube and the sea. I need scarcelyallude to the heroic Popes who patiently lived on{10}in the Crimea, till a martyrdom, in which theyhad not part but the suffering, released them.

But banishment was an immense evil in itself.Cicero, even though he had liberty of person, thechoice of a home, and the prospect of a return,{15}roamed disconsolate through the cities of Greece,because he was debarred access to thesenate-house and forum. Chrysostom had his ownrostra, his owncuria; it was the Holy Temple,where his eloquence gained for him victories not{20}less real, and more momentous, than thedetection and overthrow of Catiline. Great as washis gift of oratory, it was not by the fertility ofhis imagination, or the splendor of his dictionthat he gained the surname of "Mouth of Gold."{25}We shall be very wrong if we suppose that fineexpressions, or rounded periods, or figures ofspeech, were the credentials by which he claimedto be the first doctor of the East. His oratoricalpower was but the instrument by which he{30}readily, gracefully, adequately expressed—expressedwithout effort and with felicity—thekeen feelings, the living ideas, the earnestpractical lessons which he had to communicate to hishearers. He spoke, because his heart, his head,were brimful of things to speak about. His{5}elocution corresponded to that strength andflexibility of limb, that quickness of eye, hand, andfoot, by which a man excels in manly games orin mechanical skill. It would be a great mistake,in speaking of it, to ask whether it was Attic or{10}Asiatic, terse or flowing, when its distinctivepraise was that it was natural. His unrivaledcharm, as that of every really eloquent man, liesin his singleness of purpose, his fixed grasp of hisaim, his noble earnestness.{15}

A bright, cheerful, gentle soul; a sensitiveheart, a temperament open to emotion andimpulse; and all this elevated, refined, transformedby the touch of heaven,—such was St. JohnChrysostom; winning followers, riveting{20}affections, by his sweetness, frankness, and neglectof self. In his labors, in his preaching, hethought of others only. "I am always inadmiration of that thrice-blessed man," says an ablecritic,[29]"because he ever in all his writings puts{25}before him as his object, to be useful to hishearers; and as to all other matters, he eithersimply put them aside, or took the least possiblenotice of them. Nay, as to his seeming ignorantof some of the thoughts of Scripture, or careless of{30}entering into its depths, and similar defects, allthis he utterly disregarded in comparison of theprofit of his hearers."

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