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eternal Creator and the Creation in time. Augustine ties together his memory
of his past life, his present experience, and his ardent desire to comprehend
the mystery of creation. This leads him to the questions of the mode and time
of creation. He ponders the mode of creation and shows that it was de
nihilo and involved no alteration in the being of God. He then considers
the question of the beginning of the world and time and shows that time and
creation are cotemporal. But what is time? To this Augustine devotes a brilliant
analysis of the subjectivity of time and the relation of all temporal process
to the abiding eternity of God. From this, he prepares to turn to a detailed
interpretation of Gen. 1:1, 2.
1. Is it possible, O Lord, that, since thou art in eternity,
thou art ignorant of what I am saying to thee? Or, dost
thou see in time an event at the time it occurs? If not,
then why am I recounting such a tale of things to thee?
Certainly not in order to acquaint thee with them through
me; but, instead, that through them I may stir up my own
love and the love of my readers toward thee, so that all
may say, "Great is the Lord and greatly to be praised."
I have said this before
and will say it again: "For love of thy love I do it." So
also we pray--and yet Truth tells us, "Your Father knoweth
what things you need before you ask him." Consequently, we lay bare our
feelings before thee, that, through our confessing to thee
our plight and thy mercies toward us, thou mayest go on
to free us altogether, as thou hast already begun; and that
we may cease to be wretched in ourselves and blessed in
thee--since thou hast called us to be poor in spirit, meek,
mourners, hungering and athirst for righteousness, merciful
and pure in heart.
Thus I have told thee many things, as I could find ability
and will to do so, since it was thy will in the first place
that I should confess to thee, O Lord my God--for "Thou
art good and thy mercy endureth forever."
2. But how long would it take for the voice of my pen to tell enough of thy
exhortations and of all thy terrors and comforts and leadings by which thou
didst bring me to preach thy Word and to administer thy sacraments to thy people?
And even if I could do this sufficiently, the drops of time are very precious to me and I have
for a long time been burning with the desire to meditate on thy law, and to
confess in thy presence my knowledge and ignorance of it--from the first streaks
of thy light in my mind and the remaining darkness, until my weakness shall
be swallowed up in thy strength. And I do not wish to see those hours drained
into anything else which I can find free from the necessary care of the body,
the exercise of the mind, and the service we owe to our fellow men--and what
we give even if we do not owe it.
3. O Lord my God, hear my prayer and let thy mercy attend my longing. It does
not burn for itself alone but longs as well to serve the cause of fraternal
love. Thou seest in my heart that this is so. Let me offer the service of my
mind and my tongue--and give me what I may in turn offer back to thee. For "I
am needy and poor"; thou art rich to all who call upon thee--thou who, in thy
freedom from care, carest for us. Trim away from my lips, inwardly and outwardly,
all rashness and lying. Let thy Scriptures be my chaste delight. Let me not
be deceived in them, nor deceive others from them. O Lord, hear and pity! O
Lord my God, light of the blind, strength of the weak--and also the light of
those who see and the strength of the strong--hearken to my soul and hear it
crying from the depths. Unless
thy ears attend us even in the depths, where should we go? To whom should we
is the day and the night is thine as well."
At thy bidding the moments fly by. Grant me in them, then, an interval for my
meditations on the hidden things of thy law, nor close the door of thy law against
us who knock. Thou hast not willed that the deep secrets of all those pages
should have been written in vain. Those forests are not without their stags
which keep retired within them, ranging and walking and feeding, lying down
and ruminating. Perfect me,
O Lord, and reveal their secrets to me. Behold, thy voice is my joy; thy voice
surpasses in abundance of delights. Give me what I love, for I do love it. And
this too is thy gift. Abandon not thy gifts and despise not thy "grass" which
thirsts for thee. Let me confess
to thee everything that I shall have found in thy books and "let me hear the
voice of thy praise." Let me drink from thee and "consider
the wondrous things out of thy law"--from
the very beginning, when thou madest heaven and earth, and thenceforward to
the everlasting reign of thy Holy City with thee.
4. O Lord, have mercy on me and hear my petition. For my prayer is not for earthly
things, neither gold nor silver and precious stones, nor gorgeous apparel, nor
honors and power, nor fleshly pleasures, nor of bodily necessities in this life
of our pilgrimage: all of these things are "added" to those who seek thy Kingdom
and thy righteousness.
Observe, O God, from whence comes my desire. The unrighteous
have told me of delights but not such as those in thy law,
O Lord. Behold, this is the spring of my desire. See, O
Father, look and see--and approve! Let it be pleasing in
thy mercy's sight that I should find favor with thee--that
the secret things of thy Word may be opened to me when I
knock. I beg this of thee by our Lord Jesus Christ, thy
Son, the Man of thy right hand, the Son of Man; whom thou
madest strong for thy purpose as Mediator between thee and
us; through whom thou didst seek us when we were not seeking
thee, but didst seek us so that we might seek thee; thy
Word, through whom thou madest all things, and me among
them; thy only Son, through whom thou hast called thy faithful
people to adoption, and me among them. I beseech it of thee
through him who sitteth at thy right hand and maketh intercession
for us, "in whom are hid all treasures of wisdom and knowledge."
It is he I seek in thy books. Moses wrote of him. He tells
us so himself; the Truth tells us so.
5. Let me hear and understand how in the beginning thou
madest heaven and earth.
Moses wrote of this; he wrote and passed on--moving from
thee to thee--and he is now no longer before me. If he were,
I would lay hold on him and ask him and entreat him solemnly
that in thy name he would open out these things to me, and
I would lend my bodily ears to the sounds that came forth
out of his mouth. If, however, he spoke in the Hebrew language,
the sounds would beat on my senses in vain, and nothing
would touch my mind; but if he spoke in Latin, I would understand
what he said. But how should I then know whether what he
said was true? If I knew even this much, would it be that
I knew it from him? Indeed, within me, deep inside the chambers
of my thought, Truth itself--neither Hebrew, nor Greek,
nor Latin, nor barbarian, without any organs of voice and
tongue, without the sound of syllables--would say, "He speaks
the truth," and I should be assured by this. Then I would
confidently say to that man of thine, "You speak the truth." However, since I cannot inquire
of Moses, I beseech thee, O Truth, from whose fullness he
spoke truth; I beseech thee, my God, forgive my sins, and
as thou gavest thy servant the gift to speak these things,
grant me also the gift to understand them.
6. Look around; there are the heaven and the earth. They
cry aloud that they were made, for they change and vary.
Whatever there is that has not been made, and yet has being,
has nothing in it that was not there before. This having
something not already existent is what it means to be changed
and varied. Heaven and earth thus speak plainly that they
did not make themselves: "We are, because we have been made;
we did not exist before we came to be so that we could have
made ourselves!" And the voice with which they speak is
simply their visible presence. It was thou, O Lord, who
madest these things. Thou art beautiful; thus they are beautiful.
Thou art good, thus they are good. Thou art; thus they are.
But they are not as beautiful, nor as good, nor as truly
real as thou their Creator art. Compared with thee, they
are neither beautiful nor good, nor do they even exist.
These things we know, thanks be to thee. Yet our knowledge
is ignorance when it is compared with thy knowledge.
7. But how didst thou make the heaven and the earth, and what was the
tool of such a mighty work as thine? For it was not like a human worker fashioning
body from body, according to the fancy of his mind, able somehow or other to
impose on it a form which the mind perceived in itself by its inner eye (yet
how should even he be able to do this, if thou hadst not made that mind?). He
imposes the form on something already existing and having some sort of being,
such as clay, or stone or wood or gold or such like (and where would these things
come from if thou hadst not furnished them?). For thou madest his body for the
artisan, and thou madest the mind which directs the limbs; thou madest the matter
from which he makes anything; thou didst create the capacity by which he understands
his art and sees within his mind what he may do with the things before him;
thou gavest him his bodily sense by which, as if he had an interpreter, he may
communicate from mind to matter what he proposes to do and report back to his
mind what has been done, that the mind may consult with the Truth which presideth
over it as to whether what is done is well done.
All these things praise thee, the Creator of them all. But
how didst thou make them? How, O God, didst thou make the
heaven and earth? For truly, neither in heaven nor on earth
didst thou make heaven and earth--nor in the air nor in
the waters, since all of these also belong to the heaven
and the earth. Nowhere in the whole world didst thou make
the whole world, because there was no place where it could
be made before it was made. And thou didst not hold anything
in thy hand from which to fashion the heaven and the earth, for where couldst thou have gotten
what thou hadst not made in order to make something with
it? Is there, indeed, anything at all except because thou
art? Thus thou didst speak and they were made, and by thy Word thou didst make
8. But how didst thou speak? Was it in the same manner in
which the voice came from the cloud saying, "This is my
For that voice sounded forth and died away; it began and
ended. The syllables sounded and passed away, the second
after the first, the third after the second, and thence
in order, till the very last after all the rest; and silence
after the last. From this it is clear and plain that it
was the action of a creature, itself in time, which sounded
that voice, obeying thy eternal will. And what these words
were which were formed at that time the outer ear conveyed
to the conscious mind, whose inner ear lay attentively open
to thy eternal Word. But it compared those words which sounded
in time with thy eternal word sounding in silence and said:
"This is different; quite different! These words are far
below me; they are not even real, for they fly away and
pass, but the Word of my God remains above me forever."
If, then, in words that sound and fade away thou didst say
that heaven and earth should be made, and thus madest
heaven and earth, then there was already some kind of corporeal
creature before heaven and earth by whose motions
in time that voice might have had its occurrence in time.
But there was nothing corporeal before the heaven and the
earth; or if there was, then it is certain that already,
without a time-bound voice, thou hadst created whatever
it was out of which thou didst make the time-bound voice
by which thou didst say, "Let the heaven and the earth be
made!" For whatever it was out of which such a voice was
made simply did not exist at all until it was made by thee.
Was it decreed by thy Word that a body might be made from
which such words might come?
9. Thou dost call us, then, to understand the Word--the God who is God with
thee--which is spoken eternally and by which all things are spoken eternally.
For what was first spoken was not finished, and then something else spoken until
the whole series was spoken; but all things, at the same time and forever. For,
otherwise, we should have time and change and not a true eternity, nor a true
This I know, O my God, and I give thanks. I know, I confess
to thee, O Lord, and whoever is not ungrateful for certain
truths knows and blesses thee along with me. We know, O
Lord, this much we know: that in the same proportion as
anything is not what it was, and is what it was not, in
that very same proportion it passes away or comes to be.
But there is nothing in thy Word that passes away or returns
to its place; for it is truly immortal and eternal. And,
therefore, unto the Word coeternal with thee, at the same
time and always thou sayest all that thou sayest. And whatever
thou sayest shall be made is made, and thou makest nothing
otherwise than by speaking. Still, not all the things that
thou dost make by speaking are made at the same time and
10. Why is this, I ask of thee, O Lord my God? I see it
after a fashion, but I do not know how to express it, unless
I say that everything that begins to be and then ceases
to be begins and ceases when it is known in thy eternal
Reason that it ought to begin or cease--in thy eternal Reason
where nothing begins or ceases. And this is thy Word, which
is also "the Beginning," because it also speaks to us.
Thus, in the gospel, he spoke through the flesh; and this
sounded in the outward ears of men so that it might be believed
and sought for within, and so that it might be found in
the eternal Truth, in which the good and only Master teacheth
all his disciples. There, O Lord, I hear thy voice,
the voice of one speaking to me, since he who teacheth us
speaketh to us. But he that doth not teach us doth not really
speak to us even when he speaketh. Yet who is it that teacheth
us unless it be the Truth immutable? For even when we are
instructed by means of the mutable creation, we are thereby
led to the Truth immutable. There we learn truly as we stand
and hear him, and we rejoice greatly "because of the bridegroom's
restoring us to the source whence our being comes. And therefore,
unless the Beginning remained immutable, there would then
not be a place to which we might return when we had wandered
away. But when we return from error, it is through our gaining
knowledge that we return. In order for us to gain knowledge
he teacheth us, since he is the Beginning, and speaketh
11. In this Beginning, O God, thou hast made heaven and
earth--through thy Word, thy Son, thy Power, thy Wisdom,
thy Truth: all wondrously speaking and wondrously creating.
Who shall comprehend such things and who shall tell of it?
What is it that shineth through me and striketh my heart
without injury, so that I both shudder and burn? I shudder
because I am unlike it; I burn because I am like it. It
is Wisdom itself that shineth through me, clearing away
my fog, which so readily overwhelms me so that I faint in
it, in the darkness and burden of my punishment. For my
strength is brought down in neediness, so that I cannot
endure even my blessings until thou, O Lord, who hast been
gracious to all my iniquities, also healest all my infirmities--for
it is thou who "shalt redeem my life from corruption, and
crown me with loving-kindness and tender mercy, and shalt
satisfy my desire with good things so that my youth shall
be renewed like the eagle's."
For by this hope we are saved, and through patience we await
thy promises. Let him that is able hear thee speaking to
his inner mind. I will cry out with confidence because of
thy own oracle, "How wonderful are thy works, O Lord; in
wisdom thou hast made them all."
And this Wisdom is the Beginning, and in that Beginning
thou hast made heaven and earth.
12. Now, are not those still full of their old carnal nature 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?"
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 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?
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.
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." 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."
Thou madest all time and before all times thou art, and
there was never a time when there was no time.
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
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?
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 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."
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.
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.
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
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 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.
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.
But I shall be enabled by thee, when thou wilt grant it,
O sweet Light of my secret eyes.
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.
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
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
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.
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." This is my hope; for this I live:
that I may contemplate the joys of my Lord.
Behold, thou hast made my days grow old, and they pass away--and how I do not
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.
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
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."
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
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.
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.
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.
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
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? 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;
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.
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."
Give heed where the truth begins to dawn.
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:
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.
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.
39. But "since thy loving-kindness is better than life itself," 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, 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.
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.
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."
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.
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.