In Memory There are Also Images of Things Which are Absent.

Chapter XV.—In Memory There are Also Images of Things Which are Absent.

Caput XV.

23. But whether by images or no, who can well affirm? For I name a stone, I name the sun, and the things themselves are not present to my senses, but their images are near to my memory. I name some pain of the body, yet it is not present when there is no pain; yet if its image were not in my memory, I should be ignorant what to say concerning it, nor in arguing be able to distinguish it from pleasure. I name bodily health when sound in body; the thing itself is indeed present with me, but unless its image also were in my memory, I could by no means call to mind what the sound of this name signified. Nor would sick people know, when health was named, what was said, unless the same image were retained by the power of memory, although the thing itself were absent from the body. I name numbers whereby we enumerate; and not their images, but they themselves are in my memory. I name the image of the sun, and this, too, is in my memory. For I do not recall the image of that image, but itself, for the image itself is present when I remember it. I name memory, and I know what I name. But where do I know it, except in the memory itself? Is it also present to itself by its image, and not by itself?

23. Sed utrum per imagines an non, quis facile dixerit? Nomino quippe lapidem, nomino solem, cum res ipsae non adsunt sensibus meis; in memoria sane mea praesto sunt imagines earum. Nomino dolorem corporis, nec mihi adest dum nihil dolet; nisi tamen adesset imago eius in memoria mea, nescirem quid dicerem nec eum in disputando a voluptate discernerem. Nomino salutem corporis cum salvus sum corpore; adest mihi quidem res ipsa. Verum tamen nisi et imago eius inesset in memoria mea, nullo modo recordarer quid huius nominis significaret sonus, nec aegrotantes agnoscerent salute nominata quid esset dictum, nisi eadem imago vi memoriae teneretur, quamvis ipsa res abesset a corpore. Nomino numeros quibus numeramus; en adsunt in memoria mea non imagines eorum, sed ipsi. Nomino imaginem solis, et haec adest in memoria mea, neque enim imaginem imaginis eius, sed ipsam recolo; ipsa mihi reminiscenti praesto est. Nomino memoriam et agnosco quod nomino. Et ubi agnosco nisi in ipsa memoria? Num et ipsa per imaginem suam sibi adest ac non per se ipsam?

Chapter XVI.—The Privation of Memory is Forgetfulness.

Caput XVI.

24. When I name forgetfulness, and know, too, what I name, whence should I know it if I did not remember it? I do not say the sound of the name, but the thing which it signifies which, had I forgotten, I could not know what that sound signified. When, therefore, I remember memory, then is memory present with itself, through itself. But when I remember forgetfulness, there are present both memory and forgetfulness,—memory, whereby I remember, forgetfulness, which I remember. But what is forgetfulness but the privation of memory? How, then, is that present for me to remember, since, when it is so, I cannot remember? But if what we remember we retain in memory, yet, unless we remembered forgetfulness, we could never at the hearing of the name know the thing meant by it, then is forgetfulness retained by memory. Present, therefore, it is, lest we should forget it; and being so, we do forget. Is it to be inferred from this that forgetfulness, when we remember it, is not present to the memory through itself, but through its image; because, were forgetfulness present through itself, it would not lead us to remember, but to forget? Who will now investigate this? Who shall understand how it is?

24. Quid, cum oblivionem nomino atque itidem agnosco quod nomino, unde agnoscerem nisi meminissem? Non eundem sonum nominis dico, sed rem quam significat. Quam si oblitus essem, quid ille valeret sonus agnoscere utique non valerem. Ergo cum memoriam memini, per se ipsam sibi praesto est ipsa memoria. Cum vero memini oblivionem, et memoria praesto est et oblivio, memoria qua meminerim, oblivio quam meminerim. Sed quid est oblivio nisi privatio memoriae? Quomodo ergo adest ut eam meminerim, quando cum adest meminisse non possum? At si quod meminimus memoria retinemus, oblivionem autem nisi meminissemus, nequaquam possemus audito isto nomine rem quae illo significatur agnoscere, memoria retinetur oblivio. Adest ergo ne obliviscamur, quae cum adest, obliviscimur. An ex hoc intellegitur non per se ipsam inesse memoriae, cum eam meminimus, sed per imaginem suam, quia, si per se ipsam praesto esset oblivio, non ut meminissemus, sed ut oblivisceremur, efficeret? Et hoc quis tandem indagabit? Quis comprehendet quomodo sit?

25. Truly, O Lord, I labour therein, and labour in myself. I am become a troublesome soil that requires overmuch labour. For we are not now searching out the tracts of heaven, or measuring the distances of the stars, or inquiring about the weight of the earth. It is I myself—I, the mind—who remember. It is not much to be wondered at, if what I myself am not be far from me. But what is nearer to me than myself? And, behold, I am not able to comprehend the force of my own memory, though I cannot name myself without it. For what shall I say when it is plain to me that I remember forgetfulness? Shall I affirm that which I remember is not in my memory? Or shall I say that forgetfulness is in my memory with the view of my not forgetting? Both of these are most absurd. What third view is there? How can I assert that the image of forgetfulness is retained by my memory, and not forgetfulness itself, when I remember it? And how can I assert this, seeing that when the image of anything is imprinted on the memory, the thing itself must of necessity be present first by which that image may be imprinted? For thus do I remember Carthage; thus, all the places to which I have been; thus, the faces of men whom I have seen, and things reported by the other senses; thus, the health or sickness of the body. For when these objects were present, my memory received images from them, which, when they were present, I might gaze on and reconsider in my mind, as I remembered them when they were absent. If, therefore, forgetfulness is retained in the memory through its image, and not through itself, then itself was once present, that its image might be taken. But when it was present, how did it write its image on the memory, seeing that forgetfulness by its presence blots out even what it finds already noted? And yet, in whatever way, though it be incomprehensible and inexplicable, yet most certain I am that I remember also forgetfulness itself, whereby what we do remember is blotted out.

25. Ego certe, domine, laboro hic et laboro in me ipso. Factus sum mihi terra difficultatis et sudoris nimii. Neque enim nunc scrutamur plagas caeli aut siderum intervalla dimetimur vel terrae libramenta quaerimus. Ego sum qui memini, ego animus. Non ita mirum si a me longe est quidquid ego non sum: quid autem propinquius me ipso mihi? Et ecce memoriae meae vis non comprehenditur a me, cum ipsum me non dicam praeter illam. Quid enim dicturus sum, quando mihi certum est meminisse me oblivionem? An dicturus sum non esse in memoria mea quod memini? An dicturus sum ad hoc inesse oblivionem in memoria mea, ut non obliviscar? Utrumque absurdissimum est. Quid illud tertium? Quo pacto dicam imaginem oblivionis teneri memoria mea, non ipsam oblivionem, cum eam memini? Quo pacto et hoc dicam, quandoquidem cum imprimitur rei cuiusque imago in memoria, prius necesse est ut adsit res ipsa, unde illa imago possit imprimi? Sic enim Carthaginis memini, sic omnium locorum quibus interfui, sic facies hominum quas vidi, et ceterorum sensuum nuntiata, sic ipsius corporis salutem sive dolorem: cum praesto essent ista, cepit ab eis imagines memoria, quas intuerer praesentes et retractarem animo, cum illa et absentia reminiscerer. Si ergo per imaginem suam, non per se ipsam, in memoria tenetur oblivio, ipsa utique aderat, ut eius imago caperetur. Cum autem adesset, quomodo imaginem suam in memoria conscribebat, quando id etiam quod iam notatum invenit praesentia sua delet oblivio? Et tamen quocumque modo, licet sit modus iste incomprehensibilis et inexplicabilis, etiam ipsam oblivionem meminisse me certus sum, qua id quod meminerimus obruitur.

Chapter XVII.—God Cannot Be Attained Unto by the Power of Memory, Which Beasts and Birds Possess.

Caput XVII.

26. Great is the power of memory; very wonderful is it, O my God, a profound and infinite manifoldness; and this thing is the mind, and this I myself am. What then am I, O my God? Of what nature am I? A life various and manifold, and exceeding vast. Behold, in the numberless fields, and caves, and caverns of my memory, full without number of numberless kinds of things, either through images, as all bodies are; or by the presence of the things themselves, as are the arts; or by some notion or observation, as the affections of the mind are, which, even though the mind doth not suffer, the memory retains, while whatsoever is in the memory is also in the mind: through all these do I run to and fro, and fly; I penetrate on this side and that, as far as I am able, and nowhere is there an end. So great is the power of memory, so great the power of life in man, whose life is mortal. What then shall I do, O Thou my true life, my God? I will pass even beyond this power of mine which is called memory—I will pass beyond it, that I may proceed to Thee, O Thou sweet Light. What sayest Thou to me? Behold, I am soaring by my mind towards Thee who remainest above me. I will also pass beyond this power of mine which is called memory, wishful to reach Thee whence Thou canst be reached, and to cleave unto Thee whence it is possible to cleave unto Thee. For even beasts and birds possess memory, else could they never find their lairs and nests again, nor many other things to which they are used; neither indeed could they become used to anything, but by their memory. I will pass, then, beyond memory also, that I may reach Him who has separated me from the four-footed beasts and the fowls of the air, making me wiser than they. I will pass beyond memory also, but where shall I find Thee, O Thou truly good and assured sweetness? But where shall I find Thee? If I find Thee without memory, then am I unmindful of Thee. And how now shall I find Thee, if I do not remember Thee?

26. Magna vis est memoriae, nescio quid horrendum, deus meus, profunda et infinita multiplicitas. Et hoc animus est, et hoc ego ipse sum. Quid ergo sum, deus meus? Quae natura sum? Varia, multimoda vita et immensa vehementer. Ecce in memoriae meae campis et antris et cavernis innumerabilibus atque innumerabiliter plenis innumerabilium rerum generibus, sive per imagines, sicut omnium corporum, sive per praesentiam, sicut artium, sive per nescio quas notiones vel notationes, sicut affectionum animi (quas et cum animus non patitur, memoria tenet, cum in animo sit quidquid est in memoria), per haec omnia discurro et volito hac illac, penetro etiam quantum possum, et finis nusquam. Tanta vis est memoriae, tanta vitae vis est in homine vivente mortaliter! Quid igitur agam, tu vera mea vita, deus meus? Transibo et hanc vim meam quae memoria vocatur, transibo eam ut pertendam ad te, dulce lumen. Quid dicis mihi? Ecce ego ascendens per animum meum ad te, qui desuper mihi manes, transibo et istam vim meam quae memoria vocatur, volens te attingere unde attingi potes, et inhaerere tibi unde inhaereri tibi potest. Habent enim memoriam et pecora et aves, alioquin non cubilia nidosve repeterent, non alia multa quibus adsuescunt; neque enim et adsuescere valerent ullis rebus nisi per memoriam. Transibo ergo et memoriam, ut attingam eum qui separavit me a quadrupedibus et a volatilibus caeli sapientiorem me fecit. Transibo et memoriam, ut ubi te inveniam, vere bone, secura suavitas, ut ubi te inveniam? Si praeter memoriam meam te invenio, immemor tui sum. Et quomodo iam inveniam te, si memor non sum tui?

Chapter XVIII.—A Thing When Lost Could Not Be Found Unless It Were Retained in the Memory.

Caput XVIII.

27. For the woman who lost her drachma, and searched for it with a lamp, unless she had remembered it, would never have found it. For when it was found, whence could she know whether it were the same, had she not remembered it? I remember to have lost and found many things; and this I know thereby, that when I was searching for any of them, and was asked, “Is this it?” “Is that it?” I answered “No,” until such time as that which I sought were offered to me. Which had I not remembered,—whatever it were,—though it were offered me, yet would I not find it, because I could not recognise it. And thus it is always, when we search for and find anything that is lost. Notwithstanding, if anything be by accident lost from the sight, not from the memory,—as any visible body,—the image of it is retained within, and is searched for until it be restored to sight; and when it is found, it is recognised by the image which is within. Nor do we say that we have found what we had lost unless we recognise it; nor can we recognise it unless we remember it. But this, though lost to the sight, was retained in the memory.

27. Perdiderat enim mulier dragmam et quaesivit eam cum lucerna et, nisi memor eius esset, non inveniret eam. Cum enim esset inventa, unde sciret utrum ipsa esset, si memor eius non esset? Multa memini me perdita quaesisse atque invenisse. Inde istuc scio, quia, cum quaererem aliquid eorum et diceretur mihi, 'num forte hoc est?' 'Num forte illud?', tamdiu dicebam, 'non est,' donec id offerretur quod quaerebam. Cuius nisi memor essem, quidquid illud esset, etiamsi mihi offerretur non invenirem, quia non agnoscerem. Et semper ita fit, cum aliquid perditum quaerimus et invenimus. Verum tamen si forte aliquid ab oculis perit, non a memoria, veluti corpus quodlibet visibile, tenetur intus imago eius et quaeritur, donec reddatur aspectui. Quod cum inventum fuerit, ex imagine quae intus est recognoscitur. Nec invenisse nos dicimus quod perierat, si non agnoscimus, nec agnoscere possumus, si non meminimus; sed hoc perierat quidem oculis, memoria tenebatur.

Chapter XIX.—What It is to Remember.

Caput XIX.

28. But how is it when the memory itself loses anything, as it happens when we forget anything and try to recall it? Where finally do we search, but in the memory itself? And there, if perchance one thing be offered for another, we refuse it, until we meet with what we seek; and when we do, we exclaim, “This is it!” which we should not do unless we knew it again, nor should we recognise it unless we remembered it. Assuredly, therefore, we had forgotten it. Or, had not the whole of it slipped our memory, but by the part by which we had hold was the other part sought for; since the memory perceived that it did not revolve together as much as it was accustomed to do, and halting, as if from the mutilation of its old habit, demanded the restoration of that which was wanting. For example, if we see or think of some man known to us, and, having forgotten his name, endeavour to recover it, whatsoever other thing presents itself is not connected with it; because it was not used to be thought of in connection with him, and is consequently rejected, until that is present whereon the knowledge reposes fittingly as its accustomed object. And whence, save from the memory itself, does that present itself? For even when we recognise it as put in mind of it by another, it is thence it comes. For we do not believe it as something new, but, as we recall it, admit what was said to be correct. But if it were entirely blotted out of the mind, we should not, even when put in mind of it, recollect it. For we have not as yet entirely forgotten what we remember that we have forgotten. A lost notion, then, which we have entirely forgotten, we cannot even search for.

28. Quid, cum ipsa memoria perdit aliquid, sicut fit cum obliviscimur et quaerimus ut recordemur, ubi tandem quaerimus nisi in ipsa memoria? Et ibi si aliud pro alio forte offeratur, respuimus donec illud occurrat quod quaerimus. Et cum occurrit, dicimus, 'hoc est'; quod non diceremus nisi agnosceremus, nec agnosceremus nisi meminissemus. Certe ergo obliti fueramus. An non totum exciderat, sed ex parte quae tenebatur pars alia quaerebatur, quia sentiebat se memoria non simul volvere quod simul solebat, et quasi detruncata consuetudine claudicans reddi quod deerat flagitabat? Tamquam si homo notus sive conspiciatur oculis sive cogitetur et nomen eius obliti requiramus, quidquid aliud occurrerit non conectitur, quia non cum illo cogitari consuevit ideoque respuitur donec illud adsit, ubi simul adsuefacta notitia non inaequaliter adquiescat. Et unde adest nisi ex ipsa memoria? Nam et cum ab alio commoniti recognoscimus, inde adest. Non enim quasi novum credimus, sed recordantes approbamus hoc esse quod dictum est. Si autem penitus aboleatur ex animo, nec admoniti reminiscimur. Neque enim omni modo adhuc obliti sumus quod vel oblitos nos esse meminimus. Hoc ergo nec amissum quaerere poterimus, quod omnino obliti fuerimus.

Chapter XX.—We Should Not Seek for God and the Happy Life Unless We Had Known It.

Caput XX.

29. 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 liveth by Thee. How, then, do I seek a happy life, seeing that it is not mine till I can say, “It is enough!” in that place where I ought to say it? How do I seek it? Is it by remembrance, as though I had forgotten it, knowing too that I had forgotten it? or, longing to learn it as a thing unknown, which either I had never known, or had so forgotten it as not even to remember that I had forgotten it? Is not a happy life the thing that all desire, and is there any one who altogether desires it not? But where did they acquire the knowledge of it, that they so desire it? Where have they seen it, that they so love it? Truly we have it, but how I know not. Yea, there is another way in which, when any one hath it, he is happy; and some there be that are happy in hope. These have it in an inferior kind to those that are happy in fact; and yet are they better off than they who are happy neither in fact nor in hope. And even these, had they it not in some way, would not so much desire to be happy, which that they do desire is most certain. How they come to know it, I cannot tell, but they have it by some kind of knowledge unknown to me, who am in much doubt as to whether it be in the memory; for if it be there, then have we been happy once; whether all individually, or as in that man who first sinned, in whom also we all died, and from whom we are all born with misery, I do not now ask; but I ask whether the happy life be in the memory? For did we not know it, we should not love it. We hear the name, and we all acknowledge that we desire the thing; for we are not delighted with the sound only. For when a Greek hears it spoken in Latin, he does not feel delighted, for he knows not what is spoken; but we are delighted, as he too would be 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 so earnestly to obtain. It is then known unto all, and could they with one voice be asked whether they wished to be happy, without doubt they would all answer that they would. And this could not be unless the thing itself, of which it is the name, were retained in their memory.

29. Quomodo ergo te quaero, domine? Cum enim te, deum meum, quaero, vitam beatam quaero. Quaeram te ut vivat anima mea. Vivit enim corpus meum de anima mea et vivit anima mea de te. Quomodo ergo quaero vitam beatam? Quia non est mihi donec dicam, 'sat, est illic.' Ubi oportet ut dicam quomodo eam quaero, utrum per recordationem, tamquam eam oblitus sim oblitumque me esse adhuc teneam, an per appetitum discendi incognitam, sive quam numquam scierim sive quam sic oblitus fuerim ut me nec oblitum esse meminerim. Nonne ipsa est beata vita quam omnes volunt, et omnino qui nolit nemo est? Ubi noverunt eam, quod sic volunt eam? Ubi viderunt, ut amarent eam? Nimirum habemus eam nescio quomodo. Et est alius quidam modus quo quisque, cum habet eam, tunc beatus est, et sunt qui spe beati sunt. Inferiore modo isti habent eam quam illi qui iam re ipsa beati sunt, sed tamen meliores quam illi qui nec re nec spe beati sunt. Qui tamen etiam ipsi, nisi aliquo modo haberent eam, non ita vellent beati esse: quod eos velle certissimum est. Nescio quomodo noverunt eam ideoque habent eam in nescio qua notitia, de qua satago, utrum in memoria sit, quia, si ibi est, iam beati fuimus aliquando, utrum singillatim omnes, an in illo homine qui primus peccavit, in quo et omnes mortui sumus et de quo omnes cum miseria nati sumus, non quaero nunc, sed quaero utrum in memoria sit beata vita. Neque enim amaremus eam nisi nossemus. Audimus nomen hoc et omnes rem ipsam nos appetere fatemur; non enim sono delectamur. Nam hoc cum latine audit graecus, non delectatur, quia ignorat quid dictum sit; nos autem delectamur, sicut etiam ille si graece hoc audierit, quoniam res ipsa nec graeca nec latina est, cui adipiscendae graeci latinique inhiant ceterarumque linguarum homines. Nota est igitur omnibus, qui una voce si interrogari possent utrum beati esse vellent, sine ulla dubitatione velle responderent. Quod non fieret, nisi res ipsa, cuius hoc nomen est, eorum memoria teneretur.

Chapter XXI.—How a Happy Life May Be Retained in the Memory.

Caput XXI.

30. But is it so as one who has seen Carthage remembers it? No. For a happy life is not visible to the eye, because it is not a body. Is it, then, as we remember numbers? No. For he that hath these in his knowledge strives not to attain further; but a happy life we have in our knowledge, and, therefore, do we love it, while yet we wish further to attain it that we may be happy. Is it, then, as we remember eloquence? No. For although some, when they hear this name, call the thing to mind, who, indeed, are not yet eloquent, and many who wish to be so, whence it appears to be in their knowledge; yet have these by their bodily perceptions noticed that others are eloquent, and been delighted with it, and long to be so,—although they would not be delighted save for some interior knowledge, nor desire to be so unless they were delighted,—but a happy life we can by no bodily perception make experience of in others. Is it, then, as we remember joy? It may be so; for my joy I remember, even when sad, like as I do a happy life when I am miserable. Nor did I ever with perception of the body either see, hear, smell, taste, or touch my joy; but I experienced it in my mind when I rejoiced; and the knowledge of it clung to my memory, so that I can call it to mind sometimes with disdain and at others with desire, according to the difference of the things wherein I now remember that I rejoiced. For even from unclean things have I been bathed with a certain joy, which now calling to mind, I detest and execrate; at other times, from good and honest things, which, with longing, I call to mind, though perchance they be not nigh at hand, and then with sadness do I call to mind a former joy.

30. Numquid ita ut meminit Carthaginem qui vidit? Non. Vita enim beata non videtur oculis, quia non est corpus. Numquid sicut meminimus numeros? Non. Hos enim qui habet in notitia, non adhuc quaerit adipisci, vitam vero beatam habemus in notitia ideoque amamus et tamen adhuc adipisci eam volumus, ut beati simus. Numquid sicut meminimus eloquentiam? Non. Quamvis enim et hoc nomine audito recordentur ipsam rem, qui etiam nondum sunt eloquentes multique esse cupiant (unde apparet eam esse in eorum notitia), tamen per corporis sensus alios eloquentes animadverterunt et delectati sunt et hoc esse desiderant, quamquam nisi ex interiore notitia non delectarentur, neque hoc esse vellent nisi delectarentur. Beatam vero vitam nullo sensu corporis in aliis experimur. Numquid sicut meminimus gaudium? Fortasse ita. Nam gaudium meum etiam tristis memini sicut vitam beatam miser, neque umquam corporis sensu gaudium meum vel vidi vel audivi vel odoratus sum vel gustavi vel tetigi, sed expertus sum in animo meo quando laetatus sum, et adhaesit eius notitia memoriae meae, ut id reminisci valeam, aliquando cum aspernatione, aliquando cum desiderio, pro earum rerum diversitate de quibus me gavisum esse memini. Nam et de turpibus gaudio quodam perfusus sum, quod nunc recordans detestor atque exsecror, aliquando de bonis et honestis, quod desiderans recolo, tametsi forte non adsunt, et ideo tristis gaudium pristinum recolo.

31. Where and when, then, did I experience my happy life, that I should call it to mind, and love and long for it? Nor is it I alone or a few others who wish to be happy, but truly all; which, unless by certain knowledge we knew, we should not wish with so certain a will. But how is this, that if two men be asked whether they would wish to serve as soldiers one, it may be, would reply that he would, the other that he would not; but if they were asked whether they would wish to be happy, both of them would unhesitatingly say that they would; and this one would wish to serve, and the other not, from no other motive but to be happy? Is it, perchance, that as one joys in this, and another in that, so do all men agree in their wish for happiness, as they would agree, were they asked, in wishing to have joy,—and this joy they call a happy life? Although, then, one pursues joy in this way, and another in that, all have one goal, which they strive to attain, namely, to have joy. This life, being a thing which no one can say he has not experienced, it is on that account found in the memory, and recognised whenever the name of a happy life is heard.

31. Ubi ergo et quando expertus sum vitam meam beatam, ut recorder eam et amem et desiderem? Nec ego tantum aut cum paucis, sed beati prorsus omnes esse volumus. Quod nisi certa notitia nossemus, non tam certa voluntate vellemus. Sed quid est hoc? Quod si quaeratur a duobus utrum militare velint, fieri possit ut alter eorum velle se, alter nolle respondeat. Si autem ab eis quaeratur utrum esse beati velint, uterque se statim sine ulla dubitatione dicat optare, nec ob aliud velit ille militare, nec ob aliud iste nolit, nisi ut beati sint. Num forte quoniam alius hinc, alius inde gaudet? Ita se omnes beatos esse velle consonant, quemadmodum consonarent si hoc interrogarentur, se velle gaudere, atque ipsum gaudium vitam beatam vocant. Quod etsi alius hinc, alius illinc adsequitur, unum est tamen quo pervenire omnes nituntur, ut gaudeant. Quae quoniam res est quam se expertum non esse nemo potest dicere, propterea reperta in memoria recognoscitur quando beatae vitae nomen auditur.

Chapter XXII.—A Happy Life is to Rejoice in God, and for God.

Caput XXII.

32. Let it be far, O Lord,—let it be far from the heart of Thy servant who confesseth unto Thee; let it be far from me to think myself happy, be the joy what it may. For there is a joy which is not granted to the “wicked,” but to those who worship Thee thankfully, whose joy Thou Thyself art. And the happy life is this,—to rejoice unto Thee, in Thee, and for Thee; this it is, and there is no other. But those who think there is another follow after another joy, and that not the true one. Their will, however, is not turned away from some shadow of joy.

32. Absit, domine, absit a corde servi tui qui confitetur tibi, absit ut, quocumque gaudio gaudeam, beatum me putem. Est enim gaudium quod non datur impiis, sed eis qui te gratis colunt, quorum gaudium tu ipse es. Et ipsa est beata vita, gaudere ad te, de te, propter te: ipsa est et non est altera. Qui autem aliam putant esse, aliud sectantur gaudium neque ipsum verum. Ab aliqua tamen imagine gaudii voluntas eorum non avertitur.