Edition
Masquer
Confessiones
Caput 40
Ubi non mecum ambulasti, veritas, docens, quid caveam et quid appetam, cum ad te referrem inferiora visa mea, quae potui, teque consulerem? lustravi mundum foris sensu, quo potui, et adtendi vitam corporis mei de me sensusque ipsos meos. inde ingressus sum in recessus memoriae meae, multiplices amplitudines plenas miris modis copiarum innumerabilium, et consideravi et expavi, et nihil eorum discernere potui sine te, et nihil eorum te esse inveni. nec ego ipse inventor, qui peragravi omnia et distinguere et pro suis quaeque dignitatibus aestimare conatus sum, excipiens alia nutantibus sensibus et interrogans, alia mecum conmixta sentiens, ipsosque nuntios dinoscens atque dinumerans, iamque in memoriae latis opibus alia pertractans, alia recondens, alia eruens: nec ego ipse, cum haec agerem, id est vis mea, qua id agebam, nec ipsa eras tu, quia lux es tu permanens, quam de omnibus consulebam, an essent, quid essent, quanti pendenda essent: et audiebam docentem ac iubentem. et saepe istuc facio; hoc me delectat, et ab actionibus necessitatis, quantum relaxari possum, ad istam voluptatem refugio. neque in his omnibus, quae percurro consulens te, invenio tutum locum animae meae nisi in te, quo colligantur sparsa mea nec a te quicquam recedat ex me. et aliquando intromittis me in affectum multum inusitatum introrsus ad nescio quam dulcedinem, quae si perficiatur in me, nescio quid erit, quod vita ista non erit. sed reccido in haec aerumnosis ponderibus et resorbeor solitis, et teneor et multum fleo, sed multum teneor. tantum consuetudinis sarcina digna est! hic esse valeo nec volo, illic volo nec valeo, miser utrubique.
Traduction
Masquer
The Confessions of St. Augustin In Thirteen Books
Chapter XL.--The Only Safe Resting-Place for the Soul is to Be Found in God.
65. Where hast Thou not accompanied me, O Truth, 1 teaching me both what to avoid and what to desire, when I submitted to Thee what I could perceive of sublunary things, and asked Thy counsel? With my external senses, as I could, I viewed the world, and noted the life which my body derives from me, and these my senses. Thence I advanced inwardly into the recesses of my memory,--the manifold rooms, wondrously full of multitudinous wealth; and I considered and was afraid, and could discern none of these things without Thee, and found none of them to be Thee. Nor was I myself the discoverer of these things,--I, who went over them all, and laboured to distinguish and to value everything according to its dignity, accepting some things upon the report of my senses, and questioning about others which I felt to be mixed up with myself, distinguishing and numbering the reporters themselves, and in the vast storehouse of my memory investigating some things, laying up others, taking out others. Neither was I myself when I did this (that is, that ability of mine whereby I did it), nor was it Thou, for Thou art that never-failing light which I took counsel of as to them all, whether they were what they were, and what was their worth; and I heard Thee teaching and commanding me. And this I do often; this is a delight to me, and, as far as I can get relief from necessary duties, to this gratification do I resort. Nor in all these which I review when consulting Thee, find I a secure place for my soul, save in Thee, into whom my scattered members may be gathered together, and nothing of me depart from Thee. 2 And sometimes Thou dost introduce me to a most rare affection, inwardly, to an inexplicable sweetness, which, if it should be perfected in me, I know not to what point that life might not arrive. But by these wretched weights 3 of mine do I relapse into these things, and am sucked in by my old customs, and am held, and sorrow much, yet am much held. To such an extent does the burden of habit press us down. In this way I can be, but will not; in that I will, but cannot,--on both ways miserable.