Confessions
By
BOOK 11, Chapters
X-XXXI
CHAPTER
X
12. Now, are not those
still full of their old carnal nature[429]
who ask us: "What was God doing before he made heaven and earth? For if
he was idle," they say, "and doing nothing, then why did he not
continue in that state forever--doing nothing, as he had always done? If any
new motion has arisen in God, and a new will to form a creature, which he had
never before formed, how can that be a true eternity in which an act of will
occurs that was not there before? For the will of God is not a created thing,
but comes before the creation--and this is true because nothing could be
created unless the will of the Creator came before it. The will of God,
therefore, pertains to his very Essence. Yet if anything has arisen in the Essence
of God that was not there before, then that Essence cannot truly be called
eternal. But if it was the eternal will of God that the creation should come
to be, why, then, is not the creation itself also from eternity?"[430]
CHAPTER
XI
13. Those who say these
things do not yet understand thee, O Wisdom of God, O Light of souls. They do
not yet understand how the things are made that are made by and in thee. They
endeavor to comprehend eternal things, but their heart still flies about in
the past and future motions of created things, and is still unstable. Who
shall hold it and fix it so that it may come to rest for a little; and then,
by degrees, glimpse the glory of that eternity which abides forever; and
then, comparing eternity with the temporal process in which nothing abides,
they may see that they are incommensurable? They would see that a long time
does not become long, except from the many separate events that occur in its
passage, which cannot be simultaneous. In the Eternal, on the other hand,
nothing passes away, but the whole is simultaneously present. But no temporal
process is wholly simultaneous. Therefore, let it[431]
see that all time past is forced to move on by the incoming future; that all
the future follows from the past; and that all, past and future, is created
and issues out of that which is forever present. Who will hold the heart of
man that it may stand still and see how the eternity which always stands
still is itself neither future nor past but expresses itself in the times
that are future and past? Can my hand do this, or can the hand of my mouth
bring about so difficult a thing even by persuasion? CHAPTER
XII
14. How, then, shall I
respond to him who asks, "What was God doing before he made heaven and
earth?" I do not answer, as a certain one is reported to have done
facetiously (shrugging off the force of the question). "He was preparing
hell," he said, "for those who pry too deep." It is one thing
to see the answer; it is another to laugh at the questioner--and for myself I
do not answer these things thus. More willingly would I have answered,
"I do not know what I do not know," than cause one who asked a deep
question to be ridiculed--and by such tactics gain praise for a worthless
answer. Rather, I say that thou,
our God, art the Creator of every creature. And if in the term "heaven
and earth" every creature is included, I make bold to say further:
"Before God made heaven and earth, he did not make anything at all. For
if he did, what did he make unless it were a creature?" I do indeed wish
that I knew all that I desire to know to my profit as surely as I know that
no creature was made before any creature was made. CHAPTER
XIII
15. But if the roving
thought of someone should wander over the images of past time, and wonder
that thou, the Almighty God, the All-creating and All-sustaining, the
Architect of heaven and earth, didst for ages unnumbered abstain from so
great a work before thou didst actually do it, let him awake and consider
that he wonders at illusions. For in what temporal medium could the
unnumbered ages that thou didst not make pass by, since thou art the Author
and Creator of all the ages? Or what periods of time would those be that were
not made by thee? Or how could they have already passed away if they had not
already been? Since, therefore, thou art the Creator of all times, if there
was any time before thou madest heaven and earth, why is it said that thou
wast abstaining from working? For thou madest that very time itself, and
periods could not pass by before thou madest the whole temporal procession.
But if there was no time before heaven and earth, how, then, can it be asked,
"What wast thou doing then?" For there was no "then" when
there was no time. 16. Nor dost thou precede
any given period of time by another period of time. Else thou wouldst not
precede all periods of time. In the eminence of thy ever-present eternity,
thou precedest all times past, and extendest beyond all future times, for
they are still to come--and when they have come, they will be past. But
"Thou art always the Selfsame and thy years shall have no end."[432]
Thy years neither go nor come; but ours both go and come in order that all
separate moments may come to pass. All thy years stand together as one, since
they are abiding. Nor do thy years past exclude the years to come because thy
years do not pass away. All these years of ours shall be with thee, when all
of them shall have ceased to be. Thy years are but a day, and thy day is not
recurrent, but always today. Thy "today" yields not to tomorrow and
does not follow yesterday. Thy "today" is eternity. Therefore, thou
didst generate the Coeternal, to whom thou didst say, "This day I have
begotten thee."[433]
Thou madest all time and before all times thou art, and there was never a
time when there was no time. CHAPTER
XIV
17. There was no time,
therefore, when thou hadst not made anything, because thou hadst made time
itself. And there are no times that are coeternal with thee, because thou
dost abide forever; but if times should abide, they would not be times. For what is time? Who can
easily and briefly explain it? Who can even comprehend it in thought or put
the answer into words? Yet is it not true that in conversation we refer to
nothing more familiarly or knowingly than time? And surely we understand it
when we speak of it; we understand it also when we hear another speak of it. What, then, is time? If
no one asks me, I know what it is. If I wish to explain it to him who asks
me, I do not know. Yet I say with confidence that I know that if nothing
passed away, there would be no past time; and if nothing were still coming,
there would be no future time; and if there were nothing at all, there would
be no present time. But, then, how is it that
there are the two times, past and future, when even the past is now no longer
and the future is now not yet? But if the present were always present, and
did not pass into past time, it obviously would not be time but eternity. If,
then, time present--if it be time--comes into existence only because it
passes into time past, how can we say that even this is, since the cause of
its being is that it will cease to be? Thus, can we not truly say that time is
only as it tends toward nonbeing? CHAPTER
XV
18. And yet we speak of a
long time and a short time; but never speak this way except of time past and
future. We call a hundred years ago, for example, a long time past. In like
manner, we should call a hundred years hence a long time to come. But we call
ten days ago a short time past; and ten days hence a short time to come. But
in what sense is something long or short that is nonexistent? For the past is
not now, and the future is not yet. Therefore, let us not say, "It is
long"; instead, let us say of the past, "It was long," and of
the future, "It will be long." And yet, O Lord, my Light, shall not
thy truth make mockery of man even here? For that long time past: was it long
when it was already past, or when it was still present? For it might have
been long when there was a period that could be long, but when it was past,
it no longer was. In that case, that which was not at all could not be long.
Let us not, therefore, say, "Time past was long," for we shall not
discover what it was that was long because, since it is past, it no longer
exists. Rather, let us say that "time present was long, because when it
was present it was long." For then it had not yet passed on so as not to
be, and therefore it still was in a state that could be called long. But
after it passed, it ceased to be long simply because it ceased to be. 19. Let us, therefore, O
human soul, see whether present time can be long, for it has been given you
to feel and measure the periods of time. How, then, will you answer me? Is a hundred years when
present a long time? But, first, see whether a hundred years can be present
at once. For if the first year in the century is current, then it is present
time, and the other ninety and nine are still future. Therefore, they are not
yet. But, then, if the second year is current, one year is already past, the
second present, and all the rest are future. And thus, if we fix on any
middle year of this century as present, those before it are past, those after
it are future. Therefore, a hundred years cannot be present all at once. Let us see, then, whether
the year that is now current can be present. For if its first month is
current, then the rest are future; if the second, the first is already past,
and the remainder are not yet. Therefore, the current year is not present all
at once. And if it is not present as a whole, then the year is not present.
For it takes twelve months to make the year, from which each individual month
which is current is itself present one at a time, but the rest are either
past or future. 20. Thus it comes out
that time present, which we found was the only time that could be called
"long," has been cut down to the space of scarcely a single day.
But let us examine even that, for one day is never present as a whole. For it
is made up of twenty-four hours, divided between night and day. The first of
these hours has the rest of them as future, and the last of them has the rest
as past; but any of those between has those that preceded it as past and
those that succeed it as future. And that one hour itself passes away in
fleeting fractions. The part of it that has fled is past; what remains is
still future. If any fraction of time be conceived that cannot now be divided
even into the most minute momentary point, this alone is what we may call
time present. But this flies so rapidly from future to past that it cannot be
extended by any delay. For if it is extended, it is then divided into past
and future. But the present has no extension[434]
whatever. Where, therefore, is that
time which we may call "long"? Is it future? Actually we do not say
of the future, "It is long," for it has not yet come to be, so as
to be long. Instead, we say, "It will be long." When will it be?
For since it is future, it will not be long, for what may be long is not yet.
It will be long only when it passes from the future which is not as yet, and
will have begun to be present, so that there can be something that may be
long. But in that case, time present cries aloud, in the words we have
already heard, that it cannot be "long." CHAPTER
XVI
21. And yet, O Lord, we
do perceive intervals of time, and we compare them with each other, and we
say that some are longer and others are shorter. We even measure how much
longer or shorter this time may be than that time. And we say that this time
is twice as long, or three times as long, while this other time is only just
as long as that other. But we measure the passage of time when we measure the
intervals of perception. But who can measure times past which now are no
longer, or times future which are not yet--unless perhaps someone will dare
to say that what does not exist can be measured? Therefore, while time is
passing, it can be perceived and measured; but when it is past, it cannot,
since it is not. CHAPTER
XVII
22. I am seeking the
truth, O Father; I am not affirming it. O my God, direct and rule me. Who is there who will
tell me that there are not three times--as we learned when boys and as we
have also taught boys--time past, time present, and time future? Who can say
that there is only time present because the other two do not exist? Or do
they also exist; but when, from the future, time becomes present, it proceeds
from some secret place; and when, from times present, it becomes past, it
recedes into some secret place? For where have those men who have foretold
the future seen the things foretold, if then they were not yet existing? For
what does not exist cannot be seen. And those who tell of things past could
not speak of them as if they were true, if they did not see them in their minds.
These things could in no way be discerned if they did not exist. There are
therefore times present and times past. CHAPTER
XVIII
23. Give me leave, O
Lord, to seek still further. O my Hope, let not my purpose be confounded. For
if there are times past and future, I wish to know where they are. But if I
have not yet succeeded in this, I still know that wherever they are, they are
not there as future or past, but as present. For if they are there as future,
they are there as "not yet"; if they are there as past, they are
there as "no longer." Wherever they are and whatever they are they
exist therefore only as present. Although we tell of past things as true,
they are drawn out of the memory--not the things themselves, which have
already passed, but words constructed from the images of the perceptions
which were formed in the mind, like footprints in their passage through the
senses. My childhood, for instance, which is no longer, still exists in time
past, which does not now exist. But when I call to mind its image and speak
of it, I see it in the present because it is still in my memory. Whether
there is a similar explanation for the foretelling of future events--that is,
of the images of things which are not yet seen as if they were already
existing--I confess, O my God, I do not know. But this I certainly do know:
that we generally think ahead about our future actions, and this
premeditation is in time present; but that the action which we premeditate is
not yet, because it is still future. When we shall have started the action
and have begun to do what we were premeditating, then that action will be in
time present, because then it is no longer in time future. 24. Whatever may be the
manner of this secret foreseeing of future things, nothing can be seen except
what exists. But what exists now is not future, but present. When, therefore,
they say that future events are seen, it is not the events themselves, for
they do not exist as yet (that is, they are still in time future), but perhaps,
instead, their causes and their signs are seen, which already do exist.
Therefore, to those already beholding these causes and signs, they are not
future, but present, and from them future things are predicted because they
are conceived in the mind. These conceptions, however, exist now, and those
who predict those things see these conceptions before them in time present. Let me take an example
from the vast multitude and variety of such things. I see the dawn; I predict
that the sun is about to rise. What I see is in time present, what I predict
is in time future--not that the sun is future, for it already exists; but its
rising is future, because it is not yet. Yet I could not predict even its
rising, unless I had an image of it in my mind; as, indeed, I do even now as
I speak. But that dawn which I see in the sky is not the rising of the sun
(though it does precede it), nor is it a conception in my mind. These two[435]
are seen in time present, in order that the event which is in time future may
be predicted. Future events, therefore,
are not yet. And if they are not yet, they do not exist. And if they do not
exist, they cannot be seen at all, but they can be predicted from things
present, which now are and are seen. CHAPTER
XIX
25. Now, therefore, O
Ruler of thy creatures, what is the mode by which thou teachest souls those
things which are still future? For thou hast taught thy prophets. How dost
thou, to whom nothing is future, teach future things--or rather teach things
present from the signs of things future? For what does not exist certainly
cannot be taught. This way of thine is too far from my sight; it is too great
for me, I cannot attain to it.[436]
But I shall be enabled by thee, when thou wilt grant it, O sweet Light of my
secret eyes. CHAPTER
XX
26. But even now it is
manifest and clear that there are neither times future nor times past. Thus
it is not properly said that there are three times, past, present, and
future. Perhaps it might be said rightly that there are three times: a time
present of things past; a time present of things present; and a time present
of things future. For these three do coexist somehow in the soul, for
otherwise I could not see them. The time present of things past is memory;
the time present of things present is direct experience; the time present of
things future is expectation.[437]
If we are allowed to speak of these things so, I see three times, and I grant
that there are three. Let it still be said, then, as our misapplied custom
has it: "There are three times, past, present, and future." I shall
not be troubled by it, nor argue, nor object--always provided that what is
said is understood, so that neither the future nor the past is said to exist
now. There are but few things about which we speak properly--and many more
about which we speak improperly--though we understand one another's meaning. CHAPTER
XXI
27. I have said, then,
that we measure periods of time as they pass so that we can say that this
time is twice as long as that one or that this is just as long as that, and
so on for the other fractions of time which we can count by measuring. So, then, as I was
saying, we measure periods of time as they pass. And if anyone asks me,
"How do you know this?", I can answer: "I know because we
measure. We could not measure things that do not exist, and things past and
future do not exist." But how do we measure present time since it has no
extension? It is measured while it passes, but when it has passed it is not
measured; for then there is nothing that could be measured. But whence, and
how, and whither does it pass while it is being measured? Whence, but from
the future? Which way, save through the present? Whither, but into the past?
Therefore, from what is not yet, through what has no length, it passes into
what is now no longer. But what do we measure, unless it is a time of some
length? For we cannot speak of single, and double, and triple, and equal, and
all the other ways in which we speak of time, except in terms of the length
of the periods of time. But in what "length," then, do we measure
passing time? Is it in the future, from which it passes over? But what does
not yet exist cannot be measured. Or, is it in the present, through which it
passes? But what has no length we cannot measure. Or is it in the past into
which it passes? But what is no longer we cannot measure. CHAPTER
XXII
28. My soul burns
ardently to understand this most intricate enigma. O Lord my God, O good
Father, I beseech thee through Christ, do not close off these things, both
the familiar and the obscure, from my desire. Do not bar it from entering
into them; but let their light dawn by thy enlightening mercy, O Lord. Of
whom shall I inquire about these things? And to whom shall I confess my
ignorance of them with greater profit than to thee, to whom these studies of
mine (ardently longing to understand thy Scriptures) are not a bore? Give me
what I love, for I do love it; and this thou hast given me. O Father, who
truly knowest how to give good gifts to thy children, give this to me. Grant
it, since I have undertaken to understand it, and hard labor is my lot until
thou openest it. I beseech thee, through Christ and in his name, the Holy of
Holies, let no man interrupt me. "For I have believed, and therefore do
I speak."[438]
This is my hope; for this I live: that I may contemplate the joys of my Lord.[439]
Behold, thou hast made my days grow old, and they pass away--and how I do not
know. We speak of this time and
that time, and these times and those times: "How long ago since he said
this?" "How long ago since he did this?" "How long ago
since I saw that?" "This syllable is twice as long as that single short
syllable." These words we say and hear, and we are understood and we
understand. They are quite commonplace and ordinary, and still the meaning of
these very same things lies deeply hid and its discovery is still to come. CHAPTER
XXIII
29. I once heard a
learned man say that the motions of the sun, moon, and stars constituted
time; and I did not agree. For why should not the motions of all bodies
constitute time? What if the lights of heaven should cease, and a potter's
wheel still turn round: would there be no time by which we might measure
those rotations and say either that it turned at equal intervals, or, if it
moved now more slowly and now more quickly, that some rotations were longer
and others shorter? And while we were saying this, would we not also be speaking
in time? Or would there not be in our words some syllables that were long and
others short, because the first took a longer time to sound, and the others a
shorter time? O God, grant men to see in a small thing the notions that are
common[440]
to all things, both great and small. Both the stars and the lights of heaven
are "for signs and seasons, and for days and years."[441]
This is doubtless the case, but just as I should not say that the circuit of
that wooden wheel was a day, neither would that learned man say that there
was, therefore, no time. 30. I thirst to know the
power and the nature of time, by which we measure the motions of bodies, and
say, for example, that this motion is twice as long as that. For I ask, since
the word "day" refers not only to the length of time that the sun
is above the earth (which separates day from night), but also refers to the
sun's entire circuit from east all the way around to east--on account of
which we can say, "So many days have passed" (the nights being
included when we say, "So many days," and their lengths not counted
separately)--since, then, the day is ended by the motion of the sun and by
his passage from east to east, I ask whether the motion itself is the day, or
whether the day is the period in which that motion is completed; or both? For
if the sun's passage is the day, then there would be a day even if the sun
should finish his course in as short a period as an hour. If the motion
itself is the day, then it would not be a day if from one sunrise to another
there were a period no longer than an hour. But the sun would have to go
round twenty-four times to make just one day. If it is both, then that could
not be called a day if the sun ran his entire course in the period of an
hour; nor would it be a day if, while the sun stood still, as much time
passed as the sun usually covered during his whole course, from morning to
morning. I shall, therefore, not ask any more what it is that is called a
day, but rather what time is, for it is by time that we measure the circuit
of the sun, and would be able to say that it was finished in half the period
of time that it customarily takes if it were completed in a period of only
twelve hours. If, then, we compare these periods, we could call one of them a
single and the other a double period, as if the sun might run his course from
east to east sometimes in a single period and sometimes in a double period. Let no man tell me,
therefore, that the motions of the heavenly bodies constitute time. For when
the sun stood still at the prayer of a certain man in order that he might
gain his victory in battle, the sun stood still but time went on. For in as
long a span of time as was sufficient the battle was fought and ended.[442]
I see, then, that time is
a certain kind of extension. But do I see it, or do I only seem to? Thou, O
Light and Truth, wilt show me. CHAPTER
XXIV
31. Dost thou command
that I should agree if anyone says that time is "the motion of a
body"? Thou dost not so command. For I hear that no body is moved but in
time; this thou tellest me. But that the motion of a body itself is time I do
not hear; thou dost not say so. For when a body is moved, I measure by time
how long it was moving from the time when it began to be moved until it
stopped. And if I did not see when it began to be moved, and if it continued
to move so that I could not see when it stopped, I could not measure the
movement, except from the time when I began to see it until I stopped. But if
I look at it for a long time, I can affirm only that the time is long but not
how long it may be. This is because when we say, "How long?", we
are speaking comparatively as: "This is as long as that," or,
"This is twice as long as that"; or other such similar ratios. But
if we were able to observe the point in space where and from which the body,
which is moved, comes and the point to which it is moved; or if we can
observe its parts moving as in a wheel, we can say how long the movement of
the body took or the movement of its parts from this place to that. Since,
therefore, the motion of a body is one thing, and the norm by which we
measure how long it takes is another thing, we cannot see which of these two
is to be called time. For, although a body is sometimes moved and sometimes
stands still, we measure not only its motion but also its rest as well; and
both by time! Thus we say, "It stood still as long as it moved,"
or, "It stood still twice or three times as long as it moved"--or
any other ratio which our measuring has either determined or imagined, either
roughly or precisely, according to our custom. Therefore, time is not the
motion of a body. CHAPTER
XXV
32. And I confess to
thee, O Lord, that I am still ignorant as to what time is. And again I
confess to thee, O Lord, that I know that I am speaking all these things in
time, and that I have already spoken of time a long time, and that "very
long" is not long except when measured by the duration of time. How,
then, do I know this, when I do not know what time is? Or, is it possible
that I do not know how I can express what I do know? Alas for me! I do not
even know the extent of my own ignorance. Behold, O my God, in thy presence I
do not lie. As my heart is, so I speak. Thou shalt light my candle; thou, O
Lord my God, wilt enlighten my darkness.[443]
CHAPTER
XXVI
33. Does not my soul most
truly confess to thee that I do measure intervals of time? But what is it
that I thus measure, O my God, and how is it that I do not know what I
measure? I measure the motion of a body by time, but the time itself I do not
measure. But, truly, could I measure the motion of a body--how long it takes,
how long it is in motion from this place to that--unless I could measure the
time in which it is moving? How, then, do I measure
this time itself? Do we measure a longer time by a shorter time, as we
measure the length of a crossbeam in terms of cubits?[444]
Thus, we can say that the length of a long syllable is measured by the length
of a short syllable and thus say that the long syllable is double. So also we
measure the length of poems by the length of the lines, and the length of the
line by the length of the feet, and the length of the feet by the length of
the syllable, and the length of the long syllables by the length of the short
ones. We do not measure by pages--for in that way we would measure space
rather than time--but when we speak the words as they pass by we say:
"It is a long stanza, because it is made up of so many verses; they are
long verses because they consist of so many feet; they are long feet because
they extend over so many syllables; this is a long syllable because it is
twice the length of a short one." But no certain measure of
time is obtained this way; since it is possible that if a shorter verse is
pronounced slowly, it may take up more time than a longer one if it is
pronounced hurriedly. The same would hold for a stanza, or a foot, or a
syllable. From this it appears to me that time is nothing other than
extendedness;[445]
but extendedness of what I do not know. This is a marvel to me. The
extendedness may be of the mind itself. For what is it I measure, I ask thee,
O my God, when I say either, roughly, "This time is longer than
that," or, more precisely, "This is twice as long as that." I
know that I am measuring time. But I am not measuring the future, for it is
not yet; and I am not measuring the present because it is extended by no
length; and I am not measuring the past because it no longer is. What is it,
therefore, that I am measuring? Is it time in its passage, but not time past
[praetereuntia tempora, non praeterita]? This is what I have been saying. CHAPTER
XXVII
34. Press on, O my mind,
and attend with all your power. God is our Helper: "it is he that hath
made us and not we ourselves."[446]
Give heed where the truth begins to dawn.[447]
Suppose now that a bodily voice begins to sound, and continues to sound--on
and on--and then ceases. Now there is silence. The voice is past, and there
is no longer a sound. It was future before it sounded, and could not be
measured because it was not yet; and now it cannot be measured because it is
no longer. Therefore, while it was sounding, it might have been measured
because then there was something that could be measured. But even then it did
not stand still, for it was in motion and was passing away. Could it, on that
account, be any more readily measured? For while it was passing away, it was
being extended into some interval of time in which it might be measured,
since the present has no length. Supposing, though, that it might have been
measured--then also suppose that another voice had begun to sound and is
still sounding without any interruption to break its continued flow. We can
measure it only while it is sounding, for when it has ceased to sound it will
be already past and there will not be anything there that can be measured.
Let us measure it exactly; and let us say how much it is. But while it is
sounding, it cannot be measured except from the instant when it began to
sound, down to the final moment when it left off. For we measure the time
interval itself from some beginning point to some end. This is why a voice
that has not yet ended cannot be measured, so that one could say how long or
how briefly it will continue. Nor can it be said to be equal to another voice
or single or double in comparison to it or anything like this. But when it is
ended, it is no longer. How, therefore, may it be measured? And yet we
measure times; not those which are not yet, nor those which no longer are,
nor those which are stretched out by some delay, nor those which have no
limit. Therefore, we measure neither times future nor times past, nor times
present, nor times passing by; and yet we do measure times. 35. Deus Creator omnium[448]:
this verse of eight syllables alternates between short and long syllables.
The four short ones--that is, the first, third, fifth, and seventh--are
single in relation to the four long ones--that is, the second, fourth, sixth,
and eighth. Each of the long ones is double the length of each of the short
ones. I affirm this and report it, and common sense perceives that this
indeed is the case. By common sense, then, I measure a long syllable by a
short one, and I find that it is twice as long. But when one sounds after
another, if the first be short and the latter long, how can I hold the short
one and how can I apply it to the long one as a measure, so that I can
discover that the long one is twice as long, when, in fact, the long one does
not begin to sound until the short one leaves off sounding? That same long
syllable I do not measure as present, since I cannot measure it until it is
ended; but its ending is its passing away. What is it, then, that I
can measure? Where is the short syllable by which I measure? Where is the
long one that I am measuring? Both have sounded, have flown away, have passed
on, and are no longer. And still I measure, and I confidently answer--as far
as a trained ear can be trusted--that this syllable is single and that
syllable double. And I could not do this unless they both had passed and were
ended. Therefore I do not measure them, for they do not exist any more. But I
measure something in my memory which remains fixed. 36. It is in you, O mind
of mine, that I measure the periods of time. Do not shout me down that it
exists [objectively]; do not overwhelm yourself with the turbulent flood of
your impressions. In you, as I have said, I measure the periods of time. I
measure as time present the impression that things make on you as they pass
by and what remains after they have passed by--I do not measure the things
themselves which have passed by and left their impression on you. This is
what I measure when I measure periods of time. Either, then, these are the
periods of time or else I do not measure time at all. What are we doing when we
measure silence, and say that this silence has lasted as long as that voice
lasts? Do we not project our thought to the measure of a sound, as if it were
then sounding, so that we can say something concerning the intervals of silence
in a given span of time? For, even when both the voice and the tongue are
still, we review--in thought--poems and verses, and discourse of various
kinds or various measures of motions, and we specify their time spans--how
long this is in relation to that--just as if we were speaking them aloud. If
anyone wishes to utter a prolonged sound, and if, in forethought, he has
decided how long it should be, that man has already in silence gone through a
span of time, and committed his sound to memory. Thus he begins to speak and
his voice sounds until it reaches the predetermined end. It has truly sounded
and will go on sounding. But what is already finished has already sounded and
what remains will still sound. Thus it passes on, until the present intention
carries the future over into the past. The past increases by the diminution
of the future until by the consumption of all the future all is past.[449]
CHAPTER
XXVIII
37. But how is the future
diminished or consumed when it does not yet exist? Or how does the past,
which exists no longer, increase, unless it is that in the mind in which all
this happens there are three functions? For the mind expects, it attends, and
it remembers; so that what it expects passes into what it remembers by way of
what it attends to. Who denies that future things do not exist as yet? But
still there is already in the mind the expectation of things still future.
And who denies that past things now exist no longer? Still there is in the
mind the memory of things past. Who denies that time present has no length,
since it passes away in a moment? Yet, our attention has a continuity and it
is through this that what is present may proceed to become absent. Therefore,
future time, which is nonexistent, is not long; but "a long future"
is "a long expectation of the future." Nor is time past, which is
now no longer, long; a "long past" is "a long memory of the
past." 38. I am about to repeat
a psalm that I know. Before I begin, my attention encompasses the whole, but
once I have begun, as much of it as becomes past while I speak is still
stretched out in my memory. The span of my action is divided between my
memory, which contains what I have repeated, and my expectation, which
contains what I am about to repeat. Yet my attention is continually present
with me, and through it what was future is carried over so that it becomes past.
The more this is done and repeated, the more the memory is enlarged--and
expectation is shortened--until the whole expectation is exhausted. Then the
whole action is ended and passed into memory. And what takes place in the
entire psalm takes place also in each individual part of it and in each
individual syllable. This also holds in the even longer action of which that
psalm is only a portion. The same holds in the whole life of man, of which
all the actions of men are parts. The same holds in the whole age of the sons
of men, of which all the lives of men are parts. CHAPTER
XXIX
39. But "since thy
loving-kindness is better than life itself,"[450]
observe how my life is but a stretching out, and how thy right hand has
upheld me in my Lord, the Son of Man, the Mediator between thee, the One, and
us, the many--in so many ways and by so many means. Thus through him I may
lay hold upon him in whom I am also laid hold upon; and I may be gathered up
from my old way of life to follow that One and to forget that which is
behind, no longer stretched out but now pulled together again--stretching
forth not to what shall be and shall pass away but to those things that are
before me. Not distractedly now, but intently, I follow on for the prize of
my heavenly calling,[451]
where I may hear the sound of thy praise and contemplate thy delights, which
neither come to be nor pass away. But now my years are
spent in mourning.[452]
And thou, O Lord, art my comfort, my eternal Father. But I have been torn
between the times, the order of which I do not know, and my thoughts, even
the inmost and deepest places of my soul, are mangled by various commotions
until I shall flow together into thee, purged and molten in the fire of thy
love. CHAPTER
XXX
40. And I will be
immovable and fixed in thee, and thy truth will be my mold. And I shall not
have to endure the questions of those men who, as if in a morbid disease,
thirst for more than they can hold and say, "What did God make before he
made heaven and earth?" or, "How did it come into his mind to make
something when he had never before made anything?" Grant them, O Lord,
to consider well what they are saying; and grant them to see that where there
is no time they cannot say "never." When, therefore, he is said
"never to have made" something--what is this but to say that it was
made in no time at all? Let them therefore see that there could be no time
without a created world, and let them cease to speak vanity of this kind. Let
them also be stretched out to those things which are before them, and
understand that thou, the eternal Creator of all times, art before all times
and that no times are coeternal with thee; nor is any creature, even if there
is a creature "above time." CHAPTER
XXXI
41. O Lord my God, what a
chasm there is in thy deep secret! How far short of it have the consequences
of my sins cast me? Heal my eyes, that I may enjoy thy light. Surely, if
there is a mind that so greatly abounds in knowledge and foreknowledge, to
which all things past and future are as well known as one psalm is well known
to me, that mind would be an exceeding marvel and altogether astonishing. For
whatever is past and whatever is yet to come would be no more concealed from
him than the past and future of that psalm were hidden from me when I was
chanting it: how much of it had been sung from the beginning and what and how
much still remained till the end. But far be it from thee, O Creator of the
universe, and Creator of our souls and bodies--far be it from thee that thou
shouldst merely know all things past and future. Far, far more wonderfully,
and far more mysteriously thou knowest them. For it is not as the feelings of
one singing familiar songs, or hearing a familiar song in which, because of
his expectation of words still to come and his remembrance of those that are
past, his feelings are varied and his senses are divided. This is not the way
that anything happens to thee, who art unchangeably eternal, that is, the
truly eternal Creator of minds. As in the beginning thou knewest both the
heaven and the earth without any change in thy knowledge, so thou didst make
heaven and earth in their beginnings without any division in thy action.[453]
Let him who understands this confess to thee; and let him who does not
understand also confess to thee! Oh, exalted as thou art, still the humble in
heart are thy dwelling place! For thou liftest them who are cast down and
they fall not for whom thou art the Most High.[454] Full
text of Confessions: http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/basis/confessions-bod.html |