The Confessions of Saint Augustine | Page 6

and of all things changeable,
the springs abide in Thee unchangeable: and in Thee live the eternal reasons of all things
unreasoning and temporal. Say, Lord, to me, Thy suppliant; say, all-pitying, to me, Thy
pitiable one; say, did my infancy succeed another age of mine that died before it? was it
that which I spent within my mother's womb? for of that I have heard somewhat, and
have myself seen women with child? and what before that life again, O God my joy, was
I any where or any body? For this have I none to tell me, neither father nor mother, nor
experience of others, nor mine own memory. Dost Thou mock me for asking this, and bid
me praise Thee and acknowledge Thee, for that I do know?
I acknowledge Thee, Lord of heaven and earth, and praise Thee for my first rudiments of
being, and my infancy, whereof I remember nothing; for Thou hast appointed that man
should from others guess much as to himself; and believe much on the strength of weak
females. Even then I had being and life, and (at my infancy's close) I could seek for signs
whereby to make known to others my sensations. Whence could such a being be, save
from Thee, Lord? Shall any be his own artificer? or can there elsewhere be derived any
vein, which may stream essence and life into us, save from thee, O Lord, in whom
essence and life are one? for Thou Thyself art supremely Essence and Life. For Thou art
most high, and art not changed, neither in Thee doth to-day come to a close; yet in Thee
doth it come to a close; because all such things also are in Thee. For they had no way to
pass away, unless Thou upheldest them. And since Thy years fail not, Thy years are one
to-day. How many of ours and our fathers' years have flowed away through Thy "to-day,"
and from it received the measure and the mould of such being as they had; and still others
shall flow away, and so receive the mould of their degree of being. But Thou art still the
same, and all things of tomorrow, and all beyond, and all of yesterday, and all behind it,
Thou hast done to-day. What is it to me, though any comprehend not this? Let him also
rejoice and say, What thing is this? Let him rejoice even thus! and be content rather by
not discovering to discover Thee, than by discovering not to discover Thee.
Hear, O God. Alas, for man's sin! So saith man, and Thou pitiest him; for Thou madest
him, but sin in him Thou madest not. Who remindeth me of the sins of my infancy? for in
Thy sight none is pure from sin, not even the infant whose life is but a day upon the earth.
Who remindeth me? doth not each little infant, in whom I see what of myself I remember
not? What then was my sin? was it that I hung upon the breast and cried? for should I
now so do for food suitable to my age, justly should I be laughed at and reproved. What I
then did was worthy reproof; but since I could not understand reproof, custom and reason

forbade me to be reproved. For those habits, when grown, we root out and cast away.
Now no man, though he prunes, wittingly casts away what is good. Or was it then good,
even for a while, to cry for what, if given, would hurt? bitterly to resent, that persons free,
and its own elders, yea, the very authors of its birth, served it not? that many besides,
wiser than it, obeyed not the nod of its good pleasure? to do its best to strike and hurt,
because commands were not obeyed, which had been obeyed to its hurt? The weakness
then of infant limbs, not its will, is its innocence. Myself have seen and known even a
baby envious; it could not speak, yet it turned pale and looked bitterly on its
foster-brother. Who knows not this? Mothers and nurses tell you that they allay these
things by I know not what remedies. Is that too innocence, when the fountain of milk is
flowing in rich abundance, not to endure one to share it, though in extremest need, and
whose very life as yet depends thereon? We bear gently with all this, not as being no or
slight evils, but because they will disappear as years increase; for, though tolerated now,
the very same tempers are utterly intolerable when found in riper years.
Thou, then, O Lord my God, who gavest life to this my infancy, furnishing thus with
senses (as we see) the frame Thou gavest, compacting