The Greeks would have called this appearance
Hermes, even in this guise Odysseus met him in the oak wood of Circe's
Isle. But Augustine was not yet in his mother's faith; he still taught
and studied rhetoric, contending for its prizes, but declining to be
aided by a certain wizard of his acquaintance. He had entered as a
competitor for a "Tragicall poeme," but was too sportsmanlike to seek
victory by art necromantic. Yet he followed after Astrologers, because
they used no sacrifices, and did not pretend to consult spirits. Even
the derision of his dear friend Nebridius could not then move him from
those absurd speculations. His friend died, and "his whole heart was
darkened;" "mine eyes would be looking for him in all places, but they
found him not, and I hated all things because they told me no news of
him." He fell into an extreme weariness of life, and no less fear of
death. He lived but by halves; having lost _dimidium animae suae_, and
yet dreaded death, "Lest he might chance to have wholy dyed whome I
extremely loved." So he returned to Carthage for change, and sought
pleasure in other friendships; but "Blessed is the man that loves Thee
and his friend in Thee and his enemy for Thee. For he only never loseth
a dear friend to whom all men are dear, for His sake, who is never lost."
Here, on the margin of the old book, beside these thoughts, so beautiful
if so helpless, like all words, to console, some reader long dead has
written:--
"Pray for your poor servant, J.
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