Confessions
By St. Augustine
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 |