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- confessions
- text
- therefore then it might, then, lo, suppose another voice hath begun
to sound, and still soundeth in one continued tenor without any
interruption; let us measure it while it sounds; seeing when it hath
left sounding, it will then be past, and nothing left to be measured;
let us measure it verily, and tell how much it is. But it sounds still,
nor can it be measured but from the instant it began in, unto the end
it left in. For the very space between is the thing we measure, namely,
from some beginning unto some end. Wherefore, a voice that is not yet
ended, cannot be measured, so that it may be said how long, or short it
is; nor can it be called equal to another, or double to a single, or the
like. But when ended, it no longer is. How may it then be measured? And
yet we measure times; but yet neither those which are not yet, nor those
which no longer are, nor those which are not lengthened out by some
pause, nor those which have no bounds. We measure neither times to come,
nor past, nor present, nor passing; and yet we do measure times.
"Deus Creator omnium," this verse of eight syllables alternates between
short and long syllables. The four short then, the first, third, fifth,
and seventh, are but single, in respect of the four long, the second,
fourth, sixth, and eighth. Every one of these to every one of those,
hath a double time: I pronounce them, report on them, and find it so,
as one's plain sense perceives. By plain sense then, I measure a long
syllable by a short, and I sensibly find it to have twice so much; but
when one sounds after the other, if the former be short, the latter
long, how shall I detain the short one, and how, measuring, shall I
apply it to the long, that I may find this to have twice so much; seeing
the long does not begin to sound, unless the short leaves sounding? And
that very long one do I measure as present, seeing I measure it not
till it be ended? Now his ending is his passing away. What then is it I
measure? where is the short syllable by which I measure? where the long
which I measure? Both have sounded, have flown, passed away, are no
more; and yet I measure, and confidently answer (so far as is presumed
on a practised sense) that as to space of time this syllable is but
single, that double. And yet I could not do this, unless they were
already past and ended. It is not then themselves, which now are not,
that I measure, but something in my memory, which there remains fixed.
It is in thee, my mind, that I measure times. Interrupt me not, that
is, interrupt not thyself with the tumults of thy impressions. In thee
I measure times; the impression, which things as they pass by cause in
thee, remains even when they are gone; this it is which still present,
I measure, not the things which pass by to make this impression. This
I measure, when I measure times. Either then this is time, or I do not
measure times. What when we measure silence, and say that this silence
hath held as long time as did that voice? do we not stretch out our
thought to the measure of a voice, as if it sounded, that so we may be
able to report of the intervals of silence in a given space of time? For
though both voice and tongue be still, yet in thought we go over poems,
and verses, and any other discourse, or dimensions of motions, and
report as to the spaces of times, how much this is in respect of that,
no otherwise than if vocally we did pronounce them. If a man would utter
a lengthened sound, and had settled in thought how long it should be, he
hath in silence already gone through a space of time, and committing
it to memory, begins to utter that speech, which sounds on, until it be
brought unto the end proposed. Yea it hath sounded, and will sound; for
so much of it as is finished, hath sounded already, and the rest will
sound. And thus passeth it on, until the present intent conveys over
the future into the past; the past increasing by the diminution of the
future, until by the consumption of the future, all is past.
But how is that future diminished or consumed, which as yet is not? or
how that past increased, which is now no longer, save that in the mind
which enacteth this, there be three things done? For it expects, it
considers, it remembers; that so that which it expecteth, through
that which it considereth, passeth into that which it remembereth. Who
therefore denieth, that things to come are not as yet? and yet, there is
in the mind an expectation of things to come. And who denies past things
to be now no longer? and yet is there still in the mind a memory of
things past. And who denieth the present time hath no space, because it
passeth away in a moment? and yet our consideration continueth, through
which that which shall be present proceedeth to become absent. It is not
then future time, that is long, for as yet it is not: but a long future,
is "a long expectation of the future," nor is it time past, which now is
not, that is long; but a long past, is "a long memory of the past."
I am about to repeat a Psalm that I know. Before I begin, my expectation
is extended over the whole; but when I have begun, how much soever of
it I shall separate off into the past, is extended along my memory; thus
the life of this action of mine is divided between my memory as to what
I have repeated, and expectation as to what I am about to repeat; but
"consideration" is present with me, that through it what was future, may
be conveyed over, so as to become past. Which the more it is done again
and again, so much the more the expectation being shortened, is the
memory enlarged: till the whole expectation be at length exhausted, when
that whole action being ended, shall have passed into memory. And this
which takes place in the whole Psalm, the same takes place in each
several portion of it, and each several syllable; the same holds in that
longer action, whereof this Psalm may be part; the same holds in the
whole life of man, whereof all the actions of man are parts; the same
holds through the whole age of the sons of men, whereof all the lives of
men are parts.
But because Thy loving-kindness is better than all lives, behold, my
life is but a distraction, and Thy right hand upheld me, in my Lord the
Son of man, the Mediator betwixt Thee, The One, and us many, many also
through our manifold distractions amid many things, that by Him I may
apprehend in Whom I have been apprehended, and may be re-collected from
my old conversation, to follow The One, forgetting what is behind, and
not distended but extended, not to things which shall be and shall
pass away, but to those things which are before, not distractedly but
intently, I follow on for the prize of my heavenly calling, where I may
hear the voice of Thy praise, and contemplate Thy delights, neither
to come, nor to pass away. But now are my years spent in mourning. And
Thou, O Lord, art my comfort, my Father everlasting, but I have been
severed amid times, whose order I know not; and my thoughts, even
the inmost bowels of my soul, are rent and mangled with tumultuous
varieties, until I flow together into Thee, purified and molten by the
fire of Thy love.
And now will I stand, and become firm in Thee, in my mould, Thy truth;
nor will I endure the questions of men, who by a penal disease thirst
for more than they can contain, and say, "what did God before He made
heaven and earth?" Or, "How came it into His mind to make any thing,
having never before made any thing?" Give them, O Lord, well to
bethink themselves what they say, and to find, that "never" cannot be
predicated, when "time" is not. This then that He is said "never to have
made"; what else is it to say, than "in 'no time' to have made?" Let
them see therefore, that time cannot be without created being, and cease
to speak that vanity.