Letter X.
(a.d. 389.)
To Nebridius Augustin Sends
Greeting,
1. No question of yours ever kept me so disturbed
while reflecting upon it, as the remark which I read in your last
letter, in which you chide me for being indifferent as to making
arrangements by which it may be possible for us to live together. A
grave charge, and one which, were it not unfounded, would be most
perilous. But since satisfactory reasons seem to prove that we can
live as we would wish to do better here than at Carthage, or even
in the country, I am wholly at a loss, my dear Nebridius, what to
do with you. Shall such a conveyance as may best suit your state of
health be sent from us to you? Our friend Lucinianus informs me
that you can be carried without injury in a palanquin. But I
consider, on the other hand, how your mother, who could not bear
your absence from her when you were in health, will be much less
able to bear it when you are ill. Shall I myself then come to you? This I cannot do, for there are some here who cannot accompany me, and whom I would think it a crime for me to leave. For you already can pass your time agreeably when left to the resources of our own mind; but in their case the object of present efforts is that they may attain to this. Shall I go and come frequently, and so be now with you, now with them? But this is neither to live together, nor to live as we would wish to do. For the journey is not a short one, but so great at least that the attempt to perform it frequently would prevent our gaining the wished-for leisure. To this is added the bodily weakness through which, as you know, I cannot accomplish what I wish, unless I cease wholly to wish what is beyond my strength.
2. To occupy one’s thoughts throughout life
with journeyings which you cannot perform tranquilly and easily, is
not the part of a man whose thoughts are engaged with that last
journey which is called death, and which alone, as you understand, really deserves serious consideration. God has indeed granted to some few men whom He has ordained to bear rule over churches, the capacity of not only awaiting calmly, but even desiring eagerly, that last journey, while at the same time they can meet without disquietude the toils of those other journeyings; but I do not believe that either to those who are urged to accept such duties through desire for worldly honour, or to those who, although occupying a private station, covet a busy life, so great a boon is given as that amid bustle and agitating meetings, and journeyings hither and thither, they should acquire that familiarity with death which we seek: for both of these classes had it in their power to seek edification in retirement. Or if this be not true, I am, I shall not say the most foolish of all men, but at least the most indolent, since I find it impossible, without the aid of such an interval of relief from care and toil, to taste and relish that only real good. Believe me, there is need of much withdrawal of oneself from the tumult of the things which are passing away, in order that there may be formed in man, not through insensibility, not through presumption, not through vainglory, not through superstitious blindness, the ability to say, “I fear nought.” By this means also is attained that enduring joy with which no pleasurable excitement found elsewhere is in any degree to be compared.