On the Words "Let Us Make Man in Our Image and Likeness

which the Word grants to man the participation? For in the universal and transcendent Word, every idea of good exists naturally in itself, and all is one whole. And who shall deliver me from the mingled and ambivalent taste of that tree? For it is by no means hidden from those with sharper vision, what that "all" is, the fruit of which is life, and again, what that mixed thing is, the end of which is death. For He who generously set forth the enjoyment of the whole, by a certain word and providence also keeps man away from the participation of things that are common ^A to both. And it seems to me fitting to take the great David and the wise Solomon as teachers for the explanation of this Word. For both reckon that the grace of permitted delight is one, the Good itself, which is also the "all" of good. David says, "Delight thyself in the Lord," while Solomon names Wisdom herself, who is the Lord, the tree of life. Therefore, the same is the "all" tree as the tree of life, the eating of which the Word grants to him who was fashioned according to God. But there is set against this tree another tree, the eating of which is a knowledge of good and evil, not that it bears as fruit each of those things signified by the opposite in part, but that it brings forth a certain confused and mixed fruit, blended with opposite qualities, the eating of which the Author of life forbids, but the serpent counsels, that he might prepare the entrance for death. And he becomes a persuasive counselor, adorning the fruit with a certain beauty and pleasure, so that it might be looked upon with delight, and might over-stimulate the appetite for its taste.

CAPUT XX.

What life was in paradise, and what the forbidden tree is.

What then is that which holds the knowledge of good and evil mingled together, and is adorned with the pleasures of the senses? Shall I depart far from the truth if I conjecture, using my understanding of what is known as ^B an occasion for contemplation? For I think that "knowledge" is not here understood by Scripture as scientific knowledge, but I discover a certain distinction in scriptural usage between knowledge and discernment. For the Apostle says that to discern knowledgeably the good from the evil is a mark of a more perfect state, and of senses that have been exercised; ^C wherefore he also issues a command to prove all things, and says that to discern is the property of the spiritual man. But "knowledge" does not everywhere signify science and information, as the word itself seems to denote, but a certain affection of the soul toward that which is pleasing to us; as, "The Lord knew those who were his"; and to Moses He says, "I have known thee above all"; and concerning those convicted of wickedness, He who knows all things says, "I never knew you." Therefore, the tree from which

^A the fruit of promiscuous knowledge is gathered, is among those things which are forbidden. And that fruit is mixed by means of contraries, having the serpent as an advocate for itself, perhaps for this reason: that evil does not lie out naked, appearing by itself according to its own nature. For otherwise wickedness would be ineffectual, joined to no good that might draw the deceived one toward desire for it. But as it is, the nature of evil is somehow mixed, having destruction in the depths, hidden like some snare, while in the appearance it presents a kind of fantasy of the good. To the greedy, the luster of material wealth seems good; but greed becomes the root of all evils. And who would have slipped into the foul mire of intemperance, if one who is dragged down by this bait toward the passion did not think pleasure to be something good and desirable? In the same way, the other sins also, though they conceal certain ruin, seem at first to be desirable, and insinuate themselves into the minds of the imprudent as something good. ^B Since, therefore, the greater part of mankind judges that to be good which delights the senses—and since there is a homonymy between what is and what seems to be good—for this reason, the desire directed toward evil as if toward the good was named by Scripture "the knowledge of good and evil," interpreting a certain disposition and blending of this knowledge. It is neither absolutely evil, because it is garlanded with the good, nor purely good, because evil is hidden underneath; but it says that the fruit of the forbidden tree is mixed by both, the tasting of which it declared to lead those who touched it unto death, shouting the doctrine aloud, so to speak, that the truly good is simple and uniform by nature, estranged from all duplicity and any combination of mutually opposed things. But evil is varied and disguised, appearing to be one thing, but being found through experience to be another; it is the knowledge—that is to say, the reception through experience—that becomes the beginning and basis of death and corruption. For this reason the serpent displays the wicked fruit of sin, not by showing the evil as it was by nature in an open manner (for the man would not have been deceived by an obviously manifest evil); but having made it appear attractive for a time, and having infused a certain pleasure according to the senses into the taste, it appeared plausible ^C to the woman, as Scripture says: "And the woman saw," it says, "that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes to behold, and fair to look upon; and taking of its fruit, she ate." And that eating became the mother of death to men. This, therefore, is that mixed fruit-bearing, with the discourse clearly interpreting the understanding of why that tree was named "of the knowledge of good and evil"—namely, that according to the wickedness of poisons blended with honey, insofar as it sweetens the sense, it seems to be good, but insofar as it destroys the one who touches it, it becomes the ultimate of all evil. Since, therefore, the wicked poison had worked against the life of the human being, then the ^D

fruit: for the Holy Scriptures clearly declare in what sense they called this the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. For indeed, just as poisons mixed with honey are pleasant to the senses because of their sweetness, and are thus deemed a good thing, yet they kill the one who uses them, and are therefore considered the most extreme of all evils. This poison, then, as soon as it assailed human life, caused that noble work and name of man—and thus the image of the divine nature—to put on, as the Prophet says, the likeness of vanity. Therefore, the image must now be referred to those parts in us that are more excellent. Whatever things are troublesome and sad in life must, of course, be far removed from the likeness of the divine nature. ^A

CHAPTER XXI

That the resurrection from the dead is to be expected not so much because of the prediction of the Holy Scriptures as because of the necessary order of things.

But in truth, the strength of evil is not such that it can overcome the power of the good, nor is our nature's imprudence either superior or more constant than the wisdom of God. For it cannot be that what is changed and altered by turns should be more firm and durable than that which is always disposed in the same way and is fixed and stable in the good; for the counsel of God holds its immutability perpetually in all things: but our nature, being subject to change, does not even persist constantly in evil. For that which is always moving, if it makes its progress toward the good, because of the infinity of the object which it tries, as it were, to traverse, never ceases to reach forward. For it will find no end of the good it seeks, such that, having grasped it, it might ever cease from its motion. ^B But if it should turn its course toward the opposite, when it has finished the path of evil and arrived at the ultimate measure of evil, then that perpetual motion of the impulse, finding no rest by nature, must, when it has run through the interval of evil, necessarily turn its motion back toward the good. For since evil is in no way infinite, but is bounded by certain definite limits, it must necessarily follow that the extremity of evil is succeeded by the good. And thus, as has been said, the perpetual motion of our nature will at last return to the path of the good, being corrected by the memory of our previous distresses, so that we may take every care not to fall again into similar miseries. We shall therefore dwell again at some time in the course of the good, since it is certain that the nature of evil is bounded by certain necessary limits. For just as those who are learned in the things above us tell us that the whole universe is full of light, and they affirm that darkness occurs from the shadow of the earthly body turning itself away from the sun, when indeed, behind it, according to the shape of the round body, the shadow is enclosed in the likeness of a cone. For the sun, being many times larger than the earth, embraces it on all sides with its rays, and at the extremity of the cone joins together the junctures of the light, so that, by way of hypothesis, if one could have the power to traverse the measure of distance into which the shadow extends, he would by all means be in the light, which is not interrupted by the darkness; ^C so, I think, we should also conceive of ourselves: that having passed through the limit of evil, when we have arrived at the extreme ^D

and we have passed the boundary of evil, and have come to the furthest shadow of sin, then we shall surely live in the light again, when the nature of good, compared to the magnitude of evil, surpasses it by infinite degrees. Wherefore we shall again be sent into the possession of paradise; we shall again enjoy that wood, which is even the wood of life. The excellence of the image and the dignity of the dominion shall be restored to us. I do not speak of dominion over those things which are subjected to men for the use of this life, but I establish that there is another kind of kingdom to be expected by us, the whole account of which is among those things that cannot be told by speaking. ^A

Chapter XXII. Refutation of those who object: Why has the human race not already been raised from death long ago, and why is the resurrection awaited after certain intervals of time, if indeed it is to be thought a good thing?

^B Let us hold fast to the continuous sequence of the things being explained. For perhaps someone, with his mind lifted on the wings of sweetest hope, will think it a heavy and grievous thing that those goods are not immediately attained, which far exceed human sense and understanding, and will deem the intermediate delay of time, whereby we are kept from the enjoyment of the most longed-for thing, to be vehemently unwelcome. But let no one be afflicted for this reason, or take it ill in a childish manner that the enjoyment of pleasant things is deferred for a short interval. For since all things are governed by certain reason and wisdom, it is absolutely necessary to confess that none of the things that happen occur without reason, and that the wisdom which is in that reason is at work. But what, you will ask, is this reason, on account of which the change from this sad life does not happen into the desirable life, but is deferred to certain definite spaces of time, and this burdensome life in the body awaits the end of the completion of all things, so that then, as if liberated from a certain bridle and made, as it were, its own master, it might run its course toward the blessed life that is free from all diseases? Whether our discourse in this exposition is consistent with the truth, Truth itself clearly understands; to me, however, that which comes to mind is of this kind. I repeat, therefore, first what was indicated above: “Let us make,” says God, “man after our image and likeness; and God made man, and after the image of God He made him.” Hitherto the image of God in the whole human nature must be understood to be absolute and perfect in its own numbers. But Adam had not yet been made; for Adam, according to the etymology of the name, signifies ^C “earth-born,” ^D as those skilled in the Hebrew tongue hand down. Therefore the Apostle, excellently educated in his native language, calls the man made from the earth “dusty,” as it were turning the term “Adam” into the Greek language. Man, therefore, was made according to the image of God, namely, the whole nature of men, that divine work. And he was made by the omnipotent wisdom of God not as a part of the whole, but as the entire fullness of the nature at once. He who has encompassed all the ends saw—as Scripture says, which says, “In His hand are the ends of the earth”—He saw, knowing all things even before their creation, [containing...]

to what number the human race would have to be multiplied in the individual instances. And since He observed our inclination toward the worse in our formation, and that we would voluntarily fall away from the equal honor we shared with the angels, and attach ourselves to communion with the lowly, for this reason He mingled something of the irrational with His own image. For there is no difference of male and female in the divine and blessed nature; but by transferring to man the peculiarity of the irrational structure, He did not bestow the multiplication upon our race while it was in the high state of its creation. For He did not add the power to increase and multiply to man at the time He made him in His image, but when He had ^B distinguished him by the difference of male and female, then He says: “Increase and multiply, and fill the earth.” For such a thing is not characteristic of the divine nature, but of the irrational, just as the history indicates by recounting that these things were said by God first to the irrational creatures; so that if He had added to man the power through this voice to increase before He had imposed upon our nature the difference of male and female, we would not have had need of that kind of birth through which the irrational creatures are born.

Now, this having been foreseen by the prognostic energy, as the fullness of men was destined to pass into life through a more animal-like generation, God, who governs all things with a certain order and sequence, since He made this kind of generation absolutely necessary for humanity because of the inclination of our nature toward the low, which He saw before it came to be, who sees the future as clearly as the present—for this reason He also ^C foresaw a time commensurate with the formation of men, so that the extension of time might be completed in correspondence with the passage of the determined souls, and that then the flowing motion of time might stand still, when the human race should no longer be produced through it; and when the generation of men is completed, time should end together with its conclusion, and thus the reconstitution of the whole should take place, and by the change of the whole, the human element should also be exchanged from the corruptible and earthy to that which is impassible and eternal. And this, it seems to me, the divine Apostle also understood, when he foretold through his Epistle to the Corinthians the sudden cessation of time and the reversal of things that were previously moving, in which he says: “Behold, I tell you a mystery: We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in an atom, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.” ^D For when the fullness of human nature, as I suppose, had reached its end according to the foreknown measure, because there would no longer be anything lacking to the number of souls nor any further need for increase, he taught that the interchange of existing things would take place in an indivisible point of time, naming that indivisible—

^A and ultimate limit of time—so that there is no longer any possibility of reaching that final and topmost peak of the age, since no part of the summit remains, nor of undergoing that periodic change through death—but only if the trumpet of the resurrection were to sound, awakening the dead, and suddenly transforming those left behind in life, in the likeness of those changed by the resurrection, toward incorruption, so that the weight of the flesh no longer presses downward nor pins the heavy mass to the earth, but being raised on high it traverses the very air. For the Apostle added: "We shall be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we shall always be with the Lord." Therefore, let one await the time that of necessity extends along with the growth of humanity. For even the patriarchs around Abraham had the desire to see those good things, and did not cease seeking the heavenly fatherland, as the Apostle says; but nonetheless they are still in the state of hoping for the grace, God having foreseen something better concerning us, according to the voice of Paul: "Lest," he says, "they should be made perfect without us."

If, therefore, those who preceded us by many ages bear this delay willingly, seeing the good things only by faith and hope, and embracing them, as the Apostle testifies, since they placed the certainty of the enjoyment of the things hoped for in the trustworthiness of Him who promised—what must perform those of us, the majority, for whom perhaps there is not even the hope of the better things arising from our past lives? Even the soul of the Prophet failed from intense desire, and he confesses this passionate love through the psalmody, saying that his soul longs and fails to be in the courts of the Lord, even if he were to be thrown among the lowest; as it is a greater and more preferable thing to be the lowest in those places than to have the first rank in the tents of sinners throughout life. Nevertheless, he endured the delay, while calling that life blessed, and preferring a brief participation in it to thousands of years. "Better," he says, "is one day in thy courts than thousands," yet he was not vexed by the necessary ordering of things, and deemed it sufficient for the blessedness of men to hold the good things by hope. Wherefore he says at the end of the psalmody: "O Lord God of hosts, blessed is the man who puts his hope in Thee." Therefore, we too should not be distressed concerning the brief delay of the things hoped for, but should make it our care that we ^C do not become excluded from the things hoped for. For just as if someone were to announce to those who are less experienced that the gathering of fruits will take place at the season of harvest, and that the storehouses will be full, and the table full of food in the season of abundance; one would be foolish to hasten the arrival of the time ^D

since it is necessary first to sow the seed and with great industry to prepare the fruits yourselves. The time indeed will arrive, whether you wish it or not, when the order of things requires it. But the arrival of that time will find ^A in a different state the man who has managed with diligence to prepare for himself a rich store of fruits, compared with him who has been left by the hour devoid of any preparation. Thus I think, since it is evident to all through the divine proclamation that the time of this change will come, that we should not busy ourselves with the times (for He did not say it is for us to know the times and seasons), nor seek out any reasonings through which one might weaken the soul regarding the hope of the resurrection; but rather, leaning firmly upon the faith of the things hoped for, he should, through a good way of life, anticipate that future grace.

CHAPTER XXIII. That he who confesses that the world has an origin must necessarily also concede that it will have an end.

nature: how ^A can it be that matter was created by that which is entirely devoid of matter? And from that in which there are no dimensions, a nature which possesses all of these? For if we must believe that all things have proceeded from God, they surely came into being in an inexplicable way, existing within God himself. But if there was something "material" within Him, how can He be immaterial, possessing matter within Himself? Similarly, the same can be said of all other things through which the material nature is characterized. If quantity exists in God, how is God without quantity? If composite substance exists in Him, how is He simple, indivisible, and incomposite? Thus, reason ^B forces us to one of two conclusions: either we must confess that God consists of matter, since the matter of all things originated from Him; or, if one rejects this, we must maintain that God created matter outside of Himself, from which He then fashioned this universe. If, then, matter existed outside of God, it was undoubtedly something else other than God, coeternal with the Unbegotten in the sense of being beginningless; and thus two things are established which are both beginningless and unborn, recognized by reason as existing together—the one working with technical skill, the other receiving this scientific activity. And if, because of this necessity, anyone should suppose that matter lay before the Creator of all things from eternity, how much support will the Manichæans find for their own dogmas, seeing that they oppose a material ^C cause as being equally unbegotten to the good nature! Indeed, we believe that all things are from God, as we hear the sacred Scriptures affirming; yet how they were in God, since this exceeds the understanding of our reason, we do not think should be investigated, being persuaded that God is able to do all things—both to create something from nothing, and to imbue what is created with such qualities as He sees fit. From this it necessarily follows that just as we establish that the power of the divine will alone suffices for the creation of that which does not exist, so also, if we leave the restoration of things already created to the same power, we will believe nothing that is inconsistent with the truth. Although, perhaps, we might even be able to satisfy those who contend about matter in this way by an investigation of certain reasons, so that we might not appear to have wished to say nothing about it at all.

CAPUT XXIV. Refutation of those who say that matter and God are coeternal.

For the ^D opinion concerning matter, which maintains that it originated from that which is beyond nature and free from all matter, and which is grasped only by the intelligence of the mind, must not be removed from the number of those things which are investigated by reason. For all matter is endowed with certain qualities, and if it were to be stripped of these in reality, it could no longer be grasped by reason. While reason can indeed separate the different kinds of qualities from the underlying matter, the reason of the mind is a certain proper contemplation, not a physical action of the body. For instance, let there be proposed for our consideration some animal, or wood, or any other thing which has a material constitution; we have observed many things concerning the subject through intellectual division, each of which, in relation to the things considered with it,

lacks any real combination ^A. For the definition of color is one thing, that of weight is another, that of quantity is another, and that of the quality perceived by touch is yet another. Indeed, softness, the two-cubit measurement, and the rest of the things mentioned, are not associated with one another, nor with the body according to reason. For as regards each of these, its own distinctive definition is conceived, which shares nothing with any other quality viewed in the underlying subject. If, therefore, color is intelligible, and tangibility, quantity, and the rest of such properties are likewise intelligible, and if the removal of each of these from the underlying subject dissolves the whole definition of the body, it would be logical to conclude that it is the concurrence of these things that brings forth material nature. For just as there is no body in which color, figure, tangibility, extension, ^B weight, and the rest of the properties are not present—and yet each of these is not a body, but is found to be something else apart from the body according to its specific trait—so in reverse, wherever the aforementioned things concur, they bring about the bodily subsistence. But surely, if the understanding of these properties is intellectual, and the Divine is by nature intellectual, it is not inconsistent to say that these rational, formative principles for the genesis of bodies have subsisted from the incorporeal nature, with the intellectual nature establishing the intelligible powers, and the material nature bringing those things—by their concurrence with one another—into generation. But let these points be examined by us as matters on the side. We must return our argument ^C to the faith, through which we have accepted that the universe came into being from non-existence, and, having been taught by Scripture that it is to be transformed again into another state, we do not doubt.

CAPUT XXV.

How one who is even an outsider might be persuaded to believe in the Scripture which teaches concerning the resurrection.

But perhaps someone, looking at bodies that have been dissolved and measuring the Divine by the standard of his own power, says that the account of the resurrection is impossible, and that it is not possible for things that are currently moving to stop, nor for those not currently moving to be raised up. But let such a person make the trustworthiness of its proclamation ^D the first and greatest proof of the truth concerning the resurrection. For the conviction of those things that are said has its security from the outcome of the other things that have been foretold. For since the divine Scripture has set forth many and various accounts, it is possible for those who observe how the rest of the things said have fared—whether in falsehood or truth—to comprehend through them the doctrine concerning the resurrection. For if in other matters the accounts are proved false and straying from the truth, this too is by no means free of falsehood. But if all other things have experience as a witness to their truth, it would be logical to deem the prediction concerning the resurrection also as true through them. Therefore, let us bring to our memory one or another of those things which have been foretold—

divinely announced, and compare the outcome with the predictions, so that we may know by these things if the discourse looks toward the truth. Who is there who does not know how the Israelite nation once flourished in abundance of all things, even when it rose up against the other empires of the world? How splendid were the palaces at Jerusalem! The walls! The towers! What magnificence of the temple! It is clear that the disciples of the Lord themselves considered these things worthy of admiration. For, affected by a certain astonishment at the sight of them, they even invited the Lord to contemplation with these words, as is set forth in the sacred Gospel: "What manner of stones and what buildings are here!" But He points out to those who then admired the place, the desolation that was to be there and that the entire elegance of the structure was to perish in such a way that he predicted that not long after, nothing would remain of the things which were then seen. And at the time of His own passion, when some women following Him lamented that an unjust sentence had been passed against the innocent—for they did not yet discern the causes of the divine counsel by which these things were happening—He warned them not to lament His own lot, which it was not right to lament, but to defer their complaints and lamentations to that time which was truly destined for tears, when enemies would surround the city with a siege and would attack it; and because the Israelite nation would be overtaken by such miseries in a continuous series, that they would pronounce those happy who had brought forth no offspring. And I determine that by those words, in which He prophesies that at that time they would consider a barren womb happy, that great crime of the woman is indicated, who is said to have satiated herself with the flesh of her own son. Where, therefore, are those splendid palaces now? Where is the temple? Where are the walls? Where are the battlements of the towers? Where is the republic of the Israelites? Do we not see them scattered, I might almost say, throughout the entire world? Have not the palaces been overturned along with them? And to me, indeed, the Lord seems to have predicted these things not for the sake of the things themselves, since the hearers would have had no advantage from a prediction of things which they were destined to know for certain even by experience itself, though they had not been predicted, but so that from these things He might further instill a certain persuasion in their minds concerning far greater matters. For because the outcome of these things corresponded to the prediction, it demonstrates that the rest will also certainly come to pass. ^D For just as, if someone happens to be unskilled in agriculture when a farmer explains the power of seeds and does not have faith, the farmer thinks it sufficient for the indication of the truth to show the force and power in one grain of all those which the measure contains, and to promise that what he affirms of the one is also true of the others. For he who has seen that from one grain of wheat, or barley, or some other grain contained in a full measure, once cast into the clod, an ear of corn is born, it is necessary that he no longer doubt about the rest because of the one. Thus, the truth, corresponding in other divine oracles, also seems to win faith for this arcane doctrine concerning the resurrection. Although

^A the marvel concerning the resurrection was great and beyond belief, the Lord, beginning with the lower miracles, gradually accustomed our faith to the greater ones. For just as a mother, nursing her infant in a manner appropriate to its state, at first puts milk into its mouth through the nipple while it is soft and liquid; but when it is already teething and growing, she brings it bread—not rough and unprocessed, lest the soft and untrained gums be injured by the hardness of the food, but having softened it with her own teeth, making it proportionate and suitable to the strength of the one being nourished; then, as its strength increases by degrees, having accustomed the infant to softer things, she gradually brings it to firmer food—so also does the Lord, nourishing and nursing our human faint-heartedness as if it were an immature infant by means of miracles. First, he initiates the power of the resurrection during an incurable illness—a feat great in its accomplishment, yet not such that it would be deemed unbelievable when spoken of. For after rebuking the fever that was fiercely burning the mother-in-law of Simon, he wrought such a ^B change in the malady that she immediately had sufficient strength to serve those present, though she had been expected just before to die. Then, he adds a little to the power, and he raises the son of the royal official who was lying in an acknowledged danger (for so the history says, that he was about to die, with the father crying out: "Come down before the child dies!")—again performing [the rising] of one believed to have died, having accomplished the miracle with greater power, in that he did not even approach the place, but sent life from afar by the strength of a command. Again, by sequence, he ascends to higher miracles. For when he set out toward the daughter of the synagogue leader, he intentionally gave time to the journey, making public the healing of the woman with the flow of blood that had gone unnoticed, so that in that interval death might gain mastery over the sick girl. Now, therefore, just as the soul had been separated from the body, and while people were making an uproar with the mournful wail of those lamenting the calamity, he raises the girl back to life as if from sleep with a commanding word, in a way and by a sequence leading human weakness toward the greater thing. ^C Then, beyond these, he transcends with a miracle and by a higher power prepares the way for men toward faith in the resurrection. The Scripture records a certain city in Judea, Nain. There was in it an only son of a certain widow, no longer such a child as one might find among youths, but one already graduating from childhood to manhood. The narrative calls him a young man; the history relates many things in few. The narrative is a lamentation outright. A widow, it says, was the mother of the one who had died. You see the gravity of the calamity, how the account trag ^D icizes the pathos in few words. Rursus hoc etiam alio quodam miraculo superat, et potestate excelsiore viam hominibus struit, ut fore ex mortuis resurrectionem crederent. Proditum est enim sacris Litteris, Naim oppidum Judææ quoddam fuisse. In eo viduæ mulieri filius erat unicus, non jam amplius ætate puer, sed qui ex ephebis excessisset, et virorum in numero censeretur. Historia quidem sacra juvenem appellat: atque paucis ea profecto verbis multa complectitur: ipsa narratio tantum non lamentatio est. Erat, inquit mater ho-

of a man who had passed from life, a widowed woman. Do you see how heavy that affliction was? How tragically words not many in number declare a most sad matter? For what else do you think could be said, than that there was no hope left for her of bearing children, by which she could have consoled this sad event? She was, of course, a widow; there was no one to whom she could look except him who had already passed his final day on earth; and he was also an only child; anyone who does not wander in nature like an unknown guest understands how much evil there is in that. ^A When she brought this one alone into the light, she had experienced the pains of childbirth, to him alone she had offered her breasts; he alone cheered his mother at the table; he alone was as the material of all joy in the house, whether he played, or handled serious matters, or exercised his body, or was given to hilarity, or went out in public, or engaged in a struggle with someone, or was in a gathering of youths: nothing could be pleasant or excellent to the mother's eyes except him alone. He was already of a suitable age for taking a wife, being otherwise the stock of the whole family, the branch that would propagate posterity, the support of old age. Even the indication of age increases the mourning. For the very flower of beauty is signified to have withered when we say a youth is dead, whose beard had not yet grown to its proper thickness, but the first down had only just begun to bloom, as it were, with the beauty of his cheeks still showing their brightness. What do you think was the state of mind of that miserable woman who was losing such a son? It is necessary that her very vitals were consumed as if by some fire. ^B Therefore, she afflicted herself with bitter lamentation, when she embraced the corpse of the dead, and remained in mourning for as long as possible: she was by no means hastening to perform the rites for the deceased, but desiring to be sated with grief. Then it is added: that Jesus, when He had looked upon her, was moved by an inner stirring of the bowels to be touched with compassion for her. Therefore, when He had approached, He touched the bier: and immediately those who were carrying it stopped. There then to the dead man, He says, Young man, I say to you, arise. And in this way, restored to life, He gives him to his mother. Therefore, He restored life to this one who had been dead for no small interval, when he was all but buried. Which miracle is now greater than the former, although it was effected by the same command of speech. Indeed, the Lord proceeds to an even higher prodigy, so that we might rather approach the miracle of resurrection through manifest affections, which is otherwise difficult to believe. ^C A certain man, a friend and acquaintance of the Lord, was afflicted with illness, whose name was Lazarus. ^D Although he was dear to Him, the Lord did not wish to visit him, while He was far away from him: so that there might be enough of both place and opportunity for death in the absence of life, to effect that which is proper to it by the aid of disease. He indicates to the disciples what had happened to Lazarus while they were in Galilee: and also His journey to him, so that He might wake him as he lay. But they, fearful for their own affairs because of the ferocity of the Jews, judged that it would be grave and dangerous for them if they returned to Judea at such a time, and offered themselves to be slaughtered by murderers. Therefore, weaving delay from delay, they finally return late from Galilee. For the Lord's power was superior to their will. And so the disciples were led by Him, so that at Bethany the beginnings of the mystery concerning the resurrection, by which

hominis postremum decus. ^A Since all the customary funeral rites had been performed for the deceased, the body was hidden in the tomb. It had already swelled, as is natural, and was dissolving into decay, turning to liquid in the rot of the earth, and the body was necessarily falling apart. It was a loathsome sight, as nature was compelled to restore to life that which had already been dissolved into stench. At that point, the work of the universal resurrection, which is so hard to believe, was brought to proof by an even more manifest miracle. For it is not the case that someone is raised from a severe illness, nor is one who is drawing his last breath restored to life, nor is a child newly dead brought back to life, nor is a young man about to be carried to the tomb released from his bier; rather, a man of advanced age, dead, stale, already swollen and decomposed—to the point that even his own kin thought it unendurable for the Lord to approach the tomb because of the foul stench of the decaying body—was restored to life by a single call, and thereby ^B confirms the proclamation of the resurrection; that is, that which is awaited for the whole human race, we have learned by experience in a particular case.

For as the Apostle says, that at the time of the restoration of all things, the Lord himself will descend at a command, at the voice of the archangel, and will raise the dead to immortality by the trumpet-blast, so now, too, treating death as a kind of sleep, the one in the tomb, shaking off the weight and shedding the decay that had come upon his corpse, leaps forth from the tomb, whole and sound, not even hindered in his exit by the bands of the burial cloths that wrapped his feet and hands.

Are these things small in comparison to the proof of the resurrection of the dead? If you seek to have your judgment regarding this confirmed by other means, it does not seem to me to have been in vain that the Lord spoke to the citizens of Capernaum, as if he were putting words into the mouths of men, saying: "You will surely quote this proverb to me: 'Physician, heal yourself.'" For it was fitting that, having accustomed men to the wonder of the resurrection in other bodies, he should verify the word in the body he had taken from us. ^C You have seen the proclamation effectively declared and confirmed in others. Those who were about to die, the child who had just stopped living, the young man being carried to his tomb, and finally the corpse already putrefied—you saw all of them, at the command of a single voice, abandon death and return to life.

Do you seek also those who met death through wounds and blood, lest anyone think that in these cases the power of the life-giving force might be too weak to grant the grace? Look upon him whose hands were pierced with nails. Look upon him whose side was pierced by a spear. Pass your fingers through the marks of the nails. Insert your hand into the wound from the spear. You will surely estimate to what depth the point penetrated, ^D calculating the path inward by the breadth of the gash. For the wound that was wide enough to accommodate the entry of a human hand, how deep does it show the iron to have gone? If, therefore, he has been raised...

a violent thrust of a spear, you may form a conjecture. For how deeply must the iron have penetrated when the wound itself could receive a man's uncertain hand! Since, therefore, he has been raised from the dead, with no one, I suppose, gainsaying it, we may use these words of the Apostle: "How do some dare to say that there is no resurrection of the dead?" Since, then, it is clear that the Lord's prophecies regarding this are true, and that the event has corresponded to the rest of His oracles; and since He has declared that the resurrection will occur, not just in words but in deed itself, having brought some back to life through the resurrection, what remaining excuse have those who do not believe? Shall we, having said "Be steadfast" to those who are led astray by philosophy and vain deceit, merely content ourselves with simple confession and possess nothing more? Having learned in a few words through the Prophet the manner of the grace, where he says: "You shall take away their spirit, and they will fail, and return to their dust. You shall send forth Your Spirit, and they shall be created, and ^A you will renew the face of the earth." At that time, too, the Prophet adds that the Lord will take pleasure in His works, when wicked men are removed from the earth. For how could anyone be called by that name if the very reality were completely removed and abolished?

CHAPTER XXVI.

That the resurrection is not contrary to reason.

But there are some who, because of the weakness of human reasoning, are led to measure the divine power by our own standards, stating that what our mental capacity cannot grasp cannot be performed by God. For they bid us look to those who have long since died and been reduced to nothing, and whose bodies have been placed on pyres and burned. Their discourse objects to us the mention of carnivorous beasts, and even fish that have swallowed the flesh of shipwrecked men. They add that it happens that men, in turn, feed on these and, once digested, convert them into their own flesh. ^C They recite many such things, which are truly trivial and unworthy of the great power and authority of God, in order to overturn our doctrine of the resurrection. As if God were unable to restore to each person that which is his own, returning it to its former state by the same paths, as it were. But let us cut short their long-winded, inept, and sophistical declamations; let us acknowledge that the body of a man is resolved into those parts of which it consists, and that not only is the earth, according to the divine word, returned to the earth, but also that air and moisture betake themselves to the things of the same kind, with all the parts in us tending toward their kindred things—whether the human body is devoured by carnivorous birds, or by wild beasts, or by fish, or ^D finally, if it is placed on a pyre, reduced to smoke and ashes. In whatever place, however, we may posit the human body to be, it will certainly be established, I think, that it is undoubtedly contained within this world. Furthermore, the world is in the hand of God, as the divinely inspired voice teaches. If, therefore, you are not ignorant of anything that is in your own palm, do you suppose that your own power...

of discernment is of a higher order than God’s, as if He were not able to perceive the accuracy ^A of all things which His hand encompasses?

CHAPTER XXVII

That it is possible, when the human body is scattered into the elements of the universe, that what is proper to each individual is nevertheless restored from that commonality.

That it is possible for the human body, once dissolved into the elements of the universe, to be restored from that common store to each individual as their own.

But perhaps when you look at the elements of the universe, you think it very difficult for that which is proper to each individual body to flow back again from the common mass, once the spirit in us has been dispersed into the kindred element, and the heat, and moisture, and earthly parts have likewise become intermingled with the things of their own kind. Why, I pray, do you not reason from human examples, and conclude that this does not exceed the bounds of divine power? You have surely seen, ^B at some point in human settlements, a common herd of animals gathered together. Yet, when it is later distributed back to its owners, both the habit of returning to their homes and the marks imprinted upon them restore to each person their own. If you think of yourself in this same way, you will by no means stray from the truth. For since the soul, by a certain natural relationship and affection, pursues the body with which it once lived, there is in it a certain hidden affection or recognition, stemming from that former union, with nature as if imprinting marks upon each individual, so that the things we speak of are not confounded in that common mass, but a certain distinction of the individuals remains.

Since, therefore, the soul draws back to itself what is akin and proper to it, what toil is there, I ask you, for the divine power to prevent the intermingling ^C of things related to one another, when they are carried toward their own by a certain ineffable attraction of nature? For that certain signs of our composition remain with the soul even after dissolution, is shown by the dialogue in Hades, where the bodies had been consigned to the tomb, yet a certain bodily mark remained with the souls, by which Lazarus was recognized, and the rich man was not unknown. Therefore, it is nothing contrary to what is likely to believe that the dissolution of the bodies being raised occurs from the common back to the proper, especially by one who examines our nature with greater diligence. For we are not entirely subject to decay and change. ^D For otherwise, we would be entirely incomprehensible, having no stability by nature. But according to more accurate reasoning, part of what is in us stands firm, while part passes on through change. For the body is changed through growth and decrease, much like garments, putting on succeeding ages. Yet through every change, the form remains itself, unchanged, not departing from the marks once imprinted upon it by nature, but appearing through all the turns of the body with its own proper characteristics. Let us, however, exclude from this account the change caused by suffering, which happens to the form; for the deformity of sickness occupies the form like a strange mask.

^A that, when it is removed by the word [of God], just as in the case of the Syrian Naaman, or those mentioned in the Gospel, the form hidden by the affliction again appears in its own proper characteristics through the restoration of health. Therefore, to the God-like part of the soul, it is not that which flows and changes in the alteration that clings, but rather that which is permanent and unchanging in our composition. And since the various differences in temperament transform the qualitative characteristics of the form—and "temperament" is nothing other than the mixture of the elements (by "elements" we mean those things underlying the construction of the universe, from which the human body also consists)—of necessity, since the form remains in the soul like the impression of a seal, the elements that have been imprinted by the seal are not ignored by it. Rather, at the time of the reconstitution, it receives back into itself those things that will harmonize with the pattern of the form; and those things will certainly harmonize which were originally imprinted upon the form.

Therefore, it is not at all outside the bounds of probability that what is proper to each individual should return from the common store to the individual again. It is said that quicksilver, if poured out upon a flat, dusty surface, breaks up into fine globules and disperses into the earth, without mixing with any of the things it encounters. But if one were to collect again what has been widely dispersed, the particles of the same kind would, of their own accord, flow together, with no intervening substance capable of hindering this mixture. I believe that something of this kind must also be supposed concerning the human composition: that as soon as the signal is given by God, the capacity is granted for the parts to be united to their proper and kindred elements of their own accord, without any labor or difficulty being created for the Restorer of nature by these things. ^B Indeed, even in the things that grow from the earth, we do not see nature put to any labor, such as when wheat, or millet, or any other of the cereal or leguminous seeds ^C are converted into stalks, beards, and ears. For the nutriment appropriate to each seed is transferred from the common supply to the use of individuals by their own impulse, without any effort on the part of nature. If, therefore, there is a common moisture for all things that grow, and each of the things nourished by it draws out what is appropriate for its own increase, what is strange if, in the doctrine of the resurrection, it also happens that each of those rising again, just as in the case of seeds, draws to itself its own proper material? So that it is possible to learn from all these things that the proclamation of the resurrection contains nothing outside of those things known by experience. Yet we have remained silent about the most familiar of our own experiences: I mean the very first origin of our formation. For who does not know the miracle of nature, ^D what the maternal womb receives, and what it produces?

Do you not see how simple, in a certain way, and homogeneous is that which is deposited into the inward parts as the source of the body’s formation? And who can describe in words the variety of the structure that is being fashioned? Who, unless he had learned such a thing from the common nature, would deem it possible that what is small and, as it were, of no account, is the beginning of such a great thing? I speak of something great, not only looking at the formation of the body, but also—and this is more worthy of admiration—looking at the soul itself, and the things contemplated concerning it. ^A

CHAPTER XXVIII

For perhaps it would not be foreign to the discussion before us to examine the matter concerning the soul and the body which is debated everywhere in the churches. For it seems to some of the teachers of earlier memory, who wrote commentaries *On Principles*, that the souls of men exist as a kind of nation, living in a commonwealth of their own, long before their bodies. There, they say, examples of both vice and virtue are set before them. And those souls which are constantly devoted to the pursuit of virtue and what is honorable do not at all unite with bodies. But if they fall away from the enjoyment and fellowship of the good, then, they claim, they slide down into this life and are thus sent into bodies. ^C Others, on the contrary, adhering to the order of the creation of man as described by Moses, say that the soul is later in time than the body. For they recall that Moses says God first fashioned man by taking dust from the earth, and then imbued him with life through the inbreathing. And by this reasoning they attempt to prove that the flesh is more excellent than the soul, since the soul is inserted into flesh that has already been created. For they say that the soul was created for the sake of the body, so that the work of God might not be without breath and motion. But whatever is made for the sake of another thing is, without doubt, baser than that for the sake of which it is instituted. And they urge that there is a reasoning of this kind in the Gospel, when the soul is said to be ^D more than food, and the body more than clothing: for the latter were established for the sake of the former. For the soul was not made for the sake of food, nor were bodies prepared for the sake of clothing, but since these things already existed, those were devised for their use. Since, therefore, the argument is culpable in both these suppositions—both in that of those who invent the fable that souls live beforehand in a state of their own, and in that of those who imagine them to be formed after bodies—it would be necessary not to leave any of the things said in these doctrines unexamined. But to exercise the arguments from both sides with precision, and to expose all the absurdities inherent in these suppositions, would require a long time and much discourse; yet, as briefly as is possible, let us examine each of those points mentioned. For indeed, carefully, against the reasons

^A that are put forward, we shall again take up the subjects set before us. Those who dogmatize that the life of souls in the flesh is of a prior state, do not seem to me to be free from those Greek doctrines that have been mythologized among them concerning the migration of souls. For if anyone were to examine this accurately, he would find that their argument is, by necessity, dragged along into that which one of their wise men is said to have uttered, affirming that he himself was once a man, and then donned the body of a woman, and flew about with birds, and grew as a bush, and chose a life in the waters. He who says these things about himself, in my judgment, was far from the truth. For he prattled like frogs or daws, or in the folly of fishes or the insensibility of oaks, and propagated a doctrine worthy of such things, to say that one soul has passed through so many states. And the cause of such absurdity is the supposition that souls existed beforehand. ^B For from this starting point, the course of such a doctrine proceeds by consequence to the next and adjacent points, extending until it reaches such monstrosities. For if, through some vice, the soul has been torn away from the higher life, and after—as they say—having once tasted of bodily life, it becomes a man again—though it is admitted that the life in the flesh is entirely more prone to passion than the eternal and incorporeal one—it is a matter of necessity that anyone existing in such a life, in which there are more occasions for sinning, should become stained with more vices, and be more disposed to passion than before. But the passion of the human soul is its likeness to the irrational; and having become habituated to this, it flows down into a brutish nature. And once having entered upon the path of vice, even when it has come to be in an irrational creature, it never finds a stop in its progress toward evil. For the cessation of evil is the beginning of the impulse toward virtue; but virtue does not exist in irrational beings. Therefore, it will of necessity always be altered toward the worse, always proceeding toward what is more base, and always finding something worse than the nature in which it finds itself. And as the sensible has fallen below the rational, so also from this, the transition occurs toward that which is insensible. ^C But the argument, while proceeding thus far for them, even if it is carried outside the limits of truth, at least derives the absurd from the absurd by a certain sequence. But from this point on, their doctrine is woven from mere fables, with things that in no way cohere even with themselves. For it furthermore follows that the soul entirely perishes. For he who has once fallen, as it were, from that excellent state, will never be able to reach any goal in the course of his vices where he might subsequently rest; but because of the soul’s own affection toward diseases and perturbations, by nature ^D and because the argument for them, even if it is carried outside the limits of truth, at least derives the absurd from the absurd by a certain sequence. But from this point on, their doctrine is woven from mere fables, with things that in no way cohere even with themselves. For it furthermore follows that the soul entirely perishes. For he who has once fallen, as it were, from that excellent state, will never be able to reach any goal in the course of his vices where he might subsequently rest; but because of the soul’s own affection toward diseases and perturbations, it will move from the rational to the irrational; and from that, it will be transferred to the insensibility of plants; and to the insensible...

as the inanimate; and to this follows that which has no existence at all. Thus, by a general logical consequence, the soul will pass on into non-existence. Therefore, it will be impossible for it, by any necessity, to return to a better state. But furthermore, they bring the soul back from a shrub to a human being. Consequently, from these premises, they demonstrate that life in a shrub is more desirable than an incorporeal existence. For it has been demonstrated that the progress of the soul, which occurs toward the worse, proceeds according to probability toward what is lower. Now, the inanimate is lower than the nature that is destitute of sense—that to which the principle of their doctrine leads the soul by logical consequence. But since they do not desire this, or are shutting up the soul within the senseless, or if they should lead it up thence into human life, they will be proving the life of wood to be more desirable (as has been said) than the first state, if indeed the decline into vice occurred thence, and the return toward virtue happens from thence. Therefore, such an argument is shown to be headless and incomplete, which constructs the view that souls live by themselves ^B before life in the flesh, and are bound to bodies through vice. And as for those, indeed, who say that the soul is younger than the body, the absurdity has been set forth by what follows. Therefore, the argument from both sides is equally to be rejected. But I think our own doctrine should be set forth in truth by middle way of these assumptions. And this is: neither to suppose, according to the Greek deception, that souls—burdened by some vice of weightiness from accompanying the swiftness of the sphere's motion—fall down to the earth; nor, again, to say that the soul comes into being for the sake of the human being, as if he were a clay statue molded beforehand by the Word. For thus the intellectual nature would be proved to be more dishonorable than the clay formation.

Chapter XXIX.

That the principle of existence is one and the same for both soul and body, is proved.

But since the human being is one, he who consists of soul and body, we maintain that one and a common ^C principle of his constitution must be assumed, so that he may not be older and younger than himself, with the bodily part being prior in him, and the other part being subsequent. We maintain that, according to the foreknowing power of God—as has been argued a little before—the whole fullness of humanity subsisted beforehand, with the prophecy bearing witness to this, which says that God knows all things before their coming into being. But in the creation of each individual, we must not place one before the other, neither the soul before the body, nor the reverse; so that the human being may not be at variance with himself by being divided in time

^A For since our nature is understood, according to the apostolic teaching, as twofold—that is, the visible human being and the hidden one—if the one were to pre-exist and the other were to come later, the power of him who creates would be shown to be imperfect, not being sufficient for the entire work at a single stroke, but dividing the work and being occupied piecemeal with each of the halves. But just as we say that in a grain of wheat or in any other seed, the entire form of the ear—the grass, the stalk, the internodes, the fruit, the awns—is contained potentially (as we say), and yet we do not say that any of these pre-exists in the rationale of nature or is produced by the nature of the seed, but rather that the power inherent in the seed is manifested in a certain natural order, and not that another nature is introduced; by the same logic, we have assumed that human seed contains, at the first moment of its constitution, the power of human nature sown within it. It unfolds and becomes manifest as it proceeds toward perfection through a certain natural sequence, not receiving anything from without to serve as a beginning of perfection, but leading itself toward perfection through that sequence. Thus it is not correct to say that the soul is before the body, nor that the body is without the soul, but that there is one beginning for both: according to the higher rationale, it is founded upon the first counsel of God as upon a bedrock; but according to the other rationale, it is established in the beginnings of our birth. ^B For just as it is impossible to see the articulation of the limbs in what is deposited in the maternal womb for the conception of the body before it is formed, so neither is it possible to perceive the properties of the soul in the same before it advances to its operations. And just as no one would doubt that that same thing is fashioned into the various limbs and different viscera—with no external power entering in to accomplish this, but with the power naturally inherent in it applying itself to its own work and effect—in the same way we must think of the soul, that even if it offers no signs of itself through certain affections in the external and apparent part of the human being, it is nonetheless present. For the form of the future human being also exists potentially in the seed, and therefore lies hidden; because, being as it were brought into the light, it cannot be seen before the necessary order of things permits. So it is with the soul ^C in it, even if it does not appear; for it will finally be revealed when, with the body having increased through accretion, it shows itself by its own proper and naturally inherent operation. For since the power for conception is not separated from a dead body, but from one ensouled and living, it is therefore reasonable to think that what is emitted from a living body to initiate life is not dead and inanimate. For that which is in the flesh is indeed of itself something inanimate and dead. But mortality is nothing else than the privation of the soul. Yet no one, I suppose, would say, ^D

^A that that which is inanimate can be established as such by these things. If, however, anyone should seek a still clearer proof of that part—which is the starting point of the animal being fashioned—that it is endowed with life, it is possible to demonstrate this by other signs also, by which the living is distinguished from the dead. For we posit as a proof of life in human beings the fact that it is warm, active, and moving. But that which is cold and motionless in bodies signifies nothing else than death. Since, therefore, we perceive that this thing, regarding which we are speaking, is both warm and active, we conclude from these facts that it is not inanimate. Just as we say that in its bodily part it is not flesh, nor bones, nor hair, nor all those things which are observed in a human being, but rather that it is each of these in potentiality, though not yet appearing according to what is visible, so also in the case of the soul's part: we say that although the rational, the appetitive, ^B and the irascible faculties, and all that is observed concerning the soul, do not yet have their place in it, nevertheless, relative to the construction and completion of the body, the energies of the soul increase along with the underlying subject. For just as a human being, having achieved maturity in the larger things, has the energy of the soul clearly visible, so in the beginning of its formation, the soul manifests its energy that is suitable and proportionate to the present need, in that it constructs for itself, by means of the provided matter, its own fitting dwelling-place. For we do not consider it possible for the soul to be fitted into foreign structures, just as it is impossible for an impression in wax to be fitted to a different carving. For as the body advances from a very ^C tiny state toward perfection, so also the energy of the soul, being implanted proportionately to the underlying subject, increases and develops along with it. For in its first construction, the augmenting and nutritive faculty alone takes the lead, like a root hidden in the earth; for the smallness of that which receives it does not admit of anything greater. Then, when the plant has come into the light and shown its growth to the sun, the grace of perception blossoms. And when it has already matured and grown to a proportionate height, the rational faculty begins to shine forth like a fruit—not appearing all at once, but increasing through the perfection of the instrument ^D by careful development, producing fruit only as far as the capacity of the underlying subject allows. But if you seek the energies of the soul in the forming of the body, "Take heed to yourself," says Moses, and you will read the history of the works of the soul as in a book. For nature itself will narrate to you, more clearly than any speech, the varied activities of the soul within the body, both in the general structure and in the formation of its parts. But I think it superfluous to describe in speech the things that concern ourselves, as if we were recounting some foreign wonders. For who is there, looking at himself,

would desire to learn from another's discourse what his own nature is? For he who understands how we live, and has learned how apt the body is for all the activities proper to life, can also very easily estimate the work of the soul in the first formation of man. Thus also, it is clear ^A to those who are not unobservant that what is deposited in the workshop of nature for the planting, as it were, of a living being, is not dead and soulless when it is torn from the living body. For we do not entrust to the ground seeds of fruits or shoots of roots that have had the vital faculty implanted in them by nature extinguished; but only when they still preserve the proper power of those from which they have sprung—a power indeed hidden and concealed, yet entirely alive. And such a force is not drawn from the earth as something external (for otherwise dead wood would necessarily flourish by budding), but it is a power already implanted in things, which is merely brought out into the open through the earth, which supplies its own juice; from this the plant, being increased by root, bark, marrow, and the shoots of its branches, is finally fully formed in all its parts. For the same thing could not happen if no natural faculty had been implanted in it, by which, ^B having drawn to itself related and suitable nourishment from the surrounding parts, either a bush, or a tree, or an ear of corn, or any kind of sprout might be born.

CHAPTER XXX. A somewhat deeper contemplation of human bodily structure, briefly revisited from the perspective of medicine.

^C But indeed, each one of us, with nature herself as our mistress and guide, can accurately understand the structure of the body from what he sees and lives and perceives. Or one may take up the history of these matters, laboriously explained in books by men of great learning, and learn everything with precision. Some have investigated how the positioning of each individual part within us is arranged; others have explored the purpose for which all the members of the body were made, and have explained them to us, so that studious persons can now gain from their commentaries a rich knowledge of the human workmanship, lacking in no part. But if one should also desire to learn all these things from the doctrine proper to the assembly of God on earth, so that we may not seem to be in need of any external discipline ^D (since the law is proposed to the spiritual sheep, as the Lord says, that they should not listen to the voice of another except that of the shepherd), let us briefly discuss these matters as well. There are altogether three things in the nature of the body, for the sake of which the individual members have been made in us. For some were founded so that we might live; others, that we might live well; and others, so that there might be a perpetual succession of posterity in the human race. And those that are of such a kind that, if one were without them, man would not live, are comprised in three members: the brain, the heart, and the liver. As for those which are an addition of good things and a munificence of nature, granting to man a life of well-being, those are the organs of sensation. For things of that kind do not sustain life

^A that he does not see things which are, as it were, additions to our good, proceeding from the bountiful generosity of nature, which makes it so that a human being may live pleasantly? These are the instruments of the senses. For our life does not consist in them, since it is possible for a human being to live even when most of these are lost; but it is impossible, without the functions of these, to enjoy the pleasure of the things that are pleasant in human life. The third division proposed relates to the perpetuity of the species. Besides these, there are other members which likewise, along with the others, preserve the life of a human being and provide certain additions consonant with their nature, among which are the stomach and the lungs, of which the latter excites the heat of the heart by air-intake, while the former provides nourishment to the viscera. In this way, the whole structure of our body being divided, it is clearly to be seen that the faculty by which life is contained does not proceed from one member; but nature, having distributed the resources for our constitution among many parts, makes the contribution of each necessary to the whole. And so, those things also which nature has artfully fashioned for the safety and beauty of life are more numerous, and have great differences between them.

But I think that we ought first to distinguish briefly the primary principles of those things which contribute to our life’s constitution. Let the matter of the whole body, which is common to the individual limbs, be passed over in silence for the moment; for to our purpose, the general physiology will contribute nothing toward the particular examination. Since it is agreed by all that there is in us a share of all the elements considered in the world—of the hot and the cold, and of the other couplet understood as the moist and the dry—we must examine each in turn. ^B

We see, therefore, three administrative powers of life, of which the first cherishes the whole with its heat; the second moistens what has been heated with its moisture, so that by an equitable tempering of qualities opposed to one another, the animal is preserved in a certain mean, neither the moisture being withered away by the excess of heat, nor the heat being extinguished by the predominance of the moistening element. The third power holds together by its own agency, through a certain contribution and harmony, the distinct members with its own ligaments, joining them together most fittingly, and imparts to all the power of moving itself and the power of choice; when this is lacking, the end comes, and the part becomes as if dead, lacking the spirit that moves by choice. ^C

It would be worth the effort at this point to consider the artifice of nature in the very creation of the body. For since things that are hard and resistant do not admit the activities of the senses, as is to be seen in the bones of our body and in the plants of the earth—in which we understand a certain species of life, in that they grow and are nourished, yet the hardness of the underlying substance does not receive sensation—it was necessary for a certain wax-like structure to be placed under the activities of the senses, one capable of receiving the impression of the sensory forms, and yet not being confounded by an excessive moistness; for not ^D

^A should not the material being molded remain in the fluid state, neither resisting too much in the excess of its solidification—for that which does not yield makes no impression—nor being too soft, but possessing a mean between softness and hardness, so that the animal might not be deprived of the finest of nature’s operations, I mean sensory motion? Since, then, the soft and yielding, having no power from the solid, would have been entirely motionless and unarticulated, like the sea-lungs, for this reason nature blends with the body the hardness of bones. Having united these to one another through a fitting harmony and having tightened their joinings with the ligatures of the nerves, she thus grew around them flesh capable of receiving sensations, and being distributed over the surface, made it both more resistant to injury and more vigorous.

^B Having thus placed the whole weight of the body upon this solid nature of the bones, as upon certain load-bearing columns, she did not make the bone for the whole being as one undivided piece. For then man would have remained motionless and incapable of action, if he had been fashioned in such a state, like some tree remaining in one place, neither having the succession of the legs to advance motion forward, nor the utility of the hands available for life. But as it is, she engineered the organ to be capable of transition and action through this design, by instilling into the body the impulse and power for movements through the voluntary spirit that passes through the nerves. Hence comes the ministry of the hands, varied and manifold, and adaptable to every intent. Hence the rotations of the neck, the inclinations and elevations of the head, the activity of the jaws, the opening of the eyelids occurring simultaneously with a nod, and the movements of the remaining joints are performed as if by some machine, through certain nerves being pulled or relaxed. ^C But the power passing through these has a certain self-commanding impulse, acting in each instance through the voluntary spirit according to a certain economy of nature. The root and principle of the movements according to the nerves has been demonstrated to be the nervous membrane surrounding the brain. We no longer, therefore, deem it necessary to inquire minutely concerning the individual vital parts, since within this the motive energy has been shown.

That the brain contributes the greatest thing to life is clearly shown by what happens from the opposite. For if the membrane surrounding it suffers any wound or rupture, death immediately follows the injury, nature not being able to resist the wound even for a moment; just as when some foundation is pulled out, the whole building is shattered along with the part. Therefore, the part whose affliction makes the destruction of the entire animal evident, this must be acknowledged to hold the cause of life as its primary function. And since, in those who have departed from life, the heat implanted by nature having been extinguished, that which has been deadened...

ψύχεται, διὰ τοῦτο καὶ ἐν τῷ θερμῷ τὴν ζωτικὴν ^A αἰτίαν κατενοήσαμεν. Οὐ γὰρ ἐπιλελοιπότος τῆς νεκρότητος ἐπηκολούθησεν, ἀνάγκη πᾶσα τῇ παρουσίᾳ τούτου συνεστάναι τὸ ζῶον ὁμολογεῖσθαι. Τῆς δὲ τοιαύτης δυνάμεως οἷον πηγήν τινα καὶ ἀρχὴν τὴν καρδίαν κατενοήσαμεν, ἀφ’ ἧς αὐλοειδεῖς πόροι πολυσχιδῶς, ἄλλος ἐξ ἄλλου διαφυόμενοι, παντὶ τῷ σώματι τὸ πυρώδες καὶ θερμὸν διαχέουσι πνεῦμα. Ἐπεὶ δὲ πάντως καὶ τροφὴν ἔδει τινὰ τῷ θερμῷ συμπαρεῖναι παρὰ τῆς φύσεως· οὐ γὰρ ἐνδέχεται τὸ πῦρ ἐφ’ ἑαυτοῦ μένειν, μὴ διὰ τοῦ καταλλήλου τρεφόμενον· διὰ τοῦτο οἱ τοῦ αἵματος ὀχετοί, καθάπερ ἐκ πηγῆς τινος τοῦ ἤπατος ἀφορμηθέντες, τῷ θερμῷ πνεύματι πανταχῇ κατὰ τὸ σῶμα συμπαροδεύουσιν, ὡς ἂν μὴ μονωθὲν τοῦ ἑτέρου τὸ ἕτερον, διαφθείρῃ τὴν φύσιν, πάθος γενόμενον. Παιδευέτω τοῦτο τοὺς ἀταχτοῦντας περὶ τὸ ἴσον, διδαχθέντας παρὰ τῆς φύσεως, ὅτι ἡ πλεονεξία φθοροποιόν τι πάθος ἐστίν. Ἀλλ’ ἐπειδὴ μόνον ἀπροσδεές ἐστι τὸ θεῖον, ἡ δὲ ἀνθρωπίνη πτωχεία τῶν ἔξωθεν πρὸς τὴν ἰδίαν σύστασιν ἐπιδέεται, διὰ τοῦτο ταῖς τρισὶ ταύταις δυνάμεσι, δι’ ὧν ἔφαμεν ἅπαν οἰκονομεῖσθαι τὸ σῶμα, ἐπίῤῥυτον ἔξωθεν ἐπεισάγει τὴν ὕλην, διαφόροις εἰσόδοις τὸ κατάλληλον αὐταῖς εἰσοιχίζουσα. Τῇ μὲν γὰρ πηγῇ τοῦ αἵματος, ἥτις τὸ ἧπαρ ἐστι, τὴν διὰ τῆς τροφῆς χορηγίαν ὑπέθηκε. Τὸ γὰρ ἐπεισαγόμενον ἀεὶ διὰ ταύτης, τὰς τοῦ αἵματος πηγὰς βρύειν διὰ τοῦ ἤπατος παρασκευάζει, καθάπερ ἡ ἐπὶ τοῦ ὄρους χιὼν διὰ τῆς οἰκείας ἰκμάδος τὰς κατὰ τὴν ὑπώρειαν αὔξει πηγὰς, διὰ τοῦ βάθους τὸ οἰκεῖον ὑγρὸν ἐπὶ τὰς κάτω φλέβας συνθλίβουσα. ^B Τὸ δὲ ἐγκάρδιον πνεῦμα διὰ τοῦ γείτονος ἐπεισάγεται σπλάγχνου, ὃ καλεῖται μὲν πνεύμων, ἐστὶ δὲ τοῦ ἀέρος δοχεῖον, διὰ τῆς ἐγκειμένης ἀρτηρίας τῆς ἐπὶ τὸ στόμα διηκούσης, τὸ ἔξωθεν πνεῦμα ταῖς ἀναπνοαῖς ἐφελκόμενον. ῇ κατὰ τὸ μέσον ἡ καρδία ἐνειλημμένη, κατὰ μίμησιν τῆς τοῦ ἀεικινήτου πυρὸς ἐνεργείας, ἀδιαλείπτως καὶ αὐτὴ κινουμένη, οἷόν τι ποιοῦσιν ἐν τοῖς χαλκείοις αἱ φύσαι, ἕλκει τε πρὸς ἑαυτὴν ἐκ τοῦ παρακειμένου πνεύμονος πληροῦσα τῇ διαστολῇ τὰς κοιλότητας, καὶ τὸ πυρώδες ἑαυτῆς ἐκριπίζουσα, ταῖς ἐχομέναις ἀρτηρίαις ἐμπνεῖ. Καὶ τοῦτο ποιοῦσα οὐ διαλείπει, τὸ μὲν ἔξωθεν διὰ τῆς διαστολῆς εἰς τὰς ἰδίας κοιλότητας ἕλκουσα, τὸ δὲ παρ’ ἑαυτῆς διὰ τῆς συμπτώσεως ταῖς ἀρτηρίαις εἰσκρίνουσα. Ὅ μοι δοκεῖ καὶ τῆς αὐτομάτου ταύτης ἀναπνοῆς αἴτιον ἡμῖν γίνεσθαι. Πολλάκις γὰρ ὁ μὲν νοῦς ἄσχολός ἐστι πρὸς ἑτέρους ^C ἢ καὶ παντάπασιν ἠρεμεῖ, λυθέντος ἐν τῷ ὕπνῳ τοῦ σώματος, ἡ δὲ ἀναπνοὴ τοῦ ἀέρος οὐ διαλείπει, μηδ’ ὁτιοῦν συνεργούσης εἰς τοῦτο τῆς προαιρέσεως. Οἶμαι γάρ, ἐπειδὴ περιείληπται τῷ πνεύμονι ἡ καρδία, καὶ προσπέφυκεν αὐτῷ κατὰ τὸ ὀπίσθιον ἑαυτῆς μέρος, ταῖς ἰδίαις διαστολαῖς καὶ συμπτώσεσι συγκινοῦσα τὸ σπλάγχνον, τὴν τοῦ ἀέρος ὀλκήν τε καὶ ἐμπνοὴν ἐκμηχανᾶσθαι τῷ πνεύμονι. Ἀραιός γάρ τις ὢν καὶ πολύπορος, καὶ πάσας τὰς ἐν αὐτῷ κοιλότητας πρὸς τὸν πυθμένα τῆς ἀρτηρίας ἀνεστομω- ^D

the lung. For as it is something porous and full of holes, and all the cavities within it are flattened ^A when it contracts and collapses, the breath left in its hollows is necessarily squeezed out. But by withdrawing and opening up, in its distension it draws in air through the suction into the space that has been vacated. And this is the cause of this involuntary respiration, namely the inability of the igneous element to remain at rest. Since, then, it is proper to heat to produce motion, and we have understood the principle of this to be in the heart, the continuity of the movement in this part produces the uninterrupted impulse of the air and the breathing in through the lung. For this reason, also, when the igneous element is increased beyond nature, the panting becomes more frequent in those suffering from fever, as if the heart were hastening to extinguish the fire latent within it with fresher breath. ^B But since our nature is needy, and destitute of everything required for its own constitution, it lacks not only air and that breath which stirs the heat—which is continuously imported from without for the preservation of the animal—but it also possesses food as an acquired necessity to support the bulk of the body. For this reason it replenishes what is lacking with food and drink, having infused into the body a faculty of attracting what is absent and pushing away what is redundant; and in this matter, too, the heat of the heart provides no small assistance to nature. For since the heart, as has been indicated, is the most sovereign of the vital organs, being that which keeps the body warm with its heated breath, our Creator caused it to be active on all sides with the power of its agency, so that no part of it might be left idle and useless for the economy of the whole. For this reason, ^C lying behind the lung, through its perpetual motion, by drawing the organ toward itself, it widens the pores for the intake of air, and by relaxing, causes the trapped air to be exhaled again. But in its anterior part, it is attached to the chamber of the upper stomach, making it warm and causing it to be moved toward its own proper activities; not by stirring it for the intake of breath, but for the reception of appropriate nourishment. For the entrances for both breath and food are naturally near to each other; and as they run along the length one beside the other, they are matched at the top in such a way that they meet, and their pores terminate at a single opening, whence for the one, food, and for the other, breath, finds its entry. But in the depths, the connection of the joined passages does not remain ^D throughout. For the heart, lying in the middle between the stomach and the lung, imparts the faculties—to the one for respiration, to the other for nutrition. For it is natural for the igneous element to seek out the fuel that sustains it, which indeed also happens by necessity around the receptacle of food. For the more it is kindled by the proximity of the heat, the more greedily it attracts those things that nourish the heat; and this impulse is what we call appetite.

^A Yet even if the organ that contains the food has sufficiently grasped the material, the activity of the fire does not cease. Rather, as in a crucible, it melts the material, and having broken down and liquefied the solid components, it pours them, as if through a funnel, into the adjacent passages. Then, having separated the thicker from the pure, it leads the thin part through certain conduits to the ports of the liver, while it thrusts the earthy sediment of the food into the broader passages of the intestines; and by turning it through their winding contortions, it retains the food in the viscera for a time ^B so that, if it were not easily cast out through the straightness of the passage, it would immediately stir the animal to appetite, and man would never cease from this occupation, after the manner of the irrational nature.

Since the liver required the cooperation of this heat for the sanguification of the liquids, and since this organ is far removed from the heart in its position (for it was not possible, I think, for any principle and root that is a source of vital power to be cramped around the other principle), in order that nothing of the economy might be damaged by the distance of the heating substance, a nervous passage—which those skilled in these matters call an artery—has taken up the fiery spirit from the heart, and carries it to the liver; it is inserted into the liver somewhere near the entrance of the liquids and, having heated the moisture through the heat, it deposits something of the fire's kinship into the moisture, staining the appearance of the blood with a fiery color. ^C Then, from there, twin conduits, each container of its own pipe-like spirit and blood, setting out—so that the passage may be easy, the liquid moving along with the movement of the heat and being lightened—are scattered in many ways throughout the entire body, dividing into ten thousand beginnings and branches of ducts in every part.

When the two principles of vital powers are mixed together—the one sending heat throughout the body and the other sending moisture—they pay, as it were, a necessary tribute from their own resources to the power that is more sovereign in the vital economy. This is the power observed in the membranes and the brain, from which every movement of a joint, every contraction of muscles, and every voluntary spirit sent to the individual parts, make our earthen statue active and moving, as if by some mechanism. ^D For the purest part of the heat and the thinnest part of the moisture, having been united by a certain mixing and tempering of both powers, nourish and sustain the brain by means of vapors. From this, again, the supply from it, having been refined into the purest state, moistens the membrane enveloping the brain, which, extending from above downwards in a tube-like fashion through the consecutive vertebrae, and leading itself and the marrow contained within it, ends at the base of the spine; to all the joints of the bones and the connections and the beginnings of the muscles, it, like some charioteer, itself imparts the impulse and the power of each movement and rest.

^A For this reason, it seems to me that it deserves the safest guard; and in the head, it is encompassed by a double circuit of bone, while in the vertebrae, protected by the projections of the spines and the interlinked configuration of its joinings—by means of which it is preserved in total immunity, possessing safety through the guard that surrounds it.

Similarly, one might also conjecture with regard to the heart ^B that, just like a secure house, it has been fitted well on all sides, fortified by the most solid of bone circumferences. For at the back is the spine, secured on either side by the shoulder blades. On either flank, the placement of the ribs, enclosing the central part, ensures that it suffers no harm. In the front, the chest and the junction of the collarbones afford protection, so that in this way it might be safe on all sides against everything that might cause it trouble or even harm.

Just as in agriculture we see the earth being irrigated by rain or the infusion of channels (for let there be proposed to us a certain garden, in which there are various trees in the greatest number and every kind of species of things growing from the earth, which individually differ greatly in form, quality, and color: although so many things are nourished by the moisture of the same place, yet this power, irrigating everything with its own juice, is one and the same by nature, while the things themselves that are nourished transform the imbibed juice into diverse qualities. ^C For the very same juice becomes bitterness in wormwood, but in hemlock it is transformed into a deadly humor; and it becomes one thing in one plant and another in another—in saffron, in balsam, in poppy; for in some it acquires a hot quality, in others a cold one, in others a tempered one. In the laurel, in the fragrant reed, and in others of this kind, it has fragrance; in the fig and pear, sweetness. In the vine, it is transformed into a grape cluster and wine. It is also transformed into the juice of the apple, into the redness of the rose, into the splendid whiteness of the lily, into the blue of the violet, and into the purple color of the hyacinth. Finally, everything that the earth brings forth, although they come from one and the same moisture, are nonetheless rendered most diverse, whether you consider the form, the species, or the qualities of each).

A certain work of this kind, ^D and one most admirable, is observed in our field—that animate field, I say: the field of nature? Nay rather, of the very Lord of nature. Bones, cartilages, veins, arteries, nerves, ligaments, flesh, skin, fat, hair, muscles, nails, eyes, nostrils, ears, and all such things, in number nearly infinite, though distinguished from one another by diverse properties, are nonetheless nourished by one and the same species of food, according as their nature dictates; so that when the food is near each of the members, it is converted into the nature to which it has attached itself. If it is carried to the eye, it is tempered to the nature of the eye; and according as the various tunics in the eye are

^A distributed in a manner suitable to each. If it flows down toward the parts destined for hearing, it is mixed with the nature of the auditory faculty; and becoming lip, it becomes lip; it hardens in bone, and softens in the marrow; it is stretched out with the nerve, and is spread around the other parts at the surface; it penetrates into the nails, and is refined into the generation of hairs by the appropriate vapors. If through winding passages it should be brought forward, it produces curled and twisted hairs; but if the passage of the hair-producing vapors should be straight, it brings forth straight and stretched hairs. But our discourse has wandered far from the matters proposed, as it delves deeply into the works of nature, and attempts to describe how and from what elements the individual parts consist-both those things for living, and those for living well—and whatever other things we conceived of in our first division along with these. ^B For the proposition was to demonstrate the seminal cause of our constitution, that the soul is neither incorporeal, nor the body soulless; but that a living and ensouled animal is generated from the beginning from ensouled and living bodies, and that human nature, having received it, nurtures it as if by some food through its own powers; and that it is nourished in accordance with both parts, and has growth visible in each part correspondingly. For immediately from the beginning, through this technical and scientific formation, the power of the soul intertwined with it is revealed, appearing indeed rather dimly at the beginning, but successively shining forth with the perfection of the organ.

It is possible to see this in the case of stone-carvers. For it is proposed to the craftsman to represent the form of some animal in stone; and having proposed this, first he strikes off from the stone the material with which it is connatural; then, having cut away what is superfluous, he leads it forward in a certain way through the first outline by mimicry according to his design, so that ^C even a person ignorant of the objective of the art might conjecture what work he has intended. Again, working over it, he draws closer to the resemblance of the thing being sought. Then, having applied the perfect and exact form to the material, he carries the art to its completion; and what was a short while before a shapeless stone, is now a lion, or whatever it may chance to be that is made by the craftsman; not that the material has been changed into the form, but that the form has been artificially brought upon the material.

If we think of something similar also regarding the soul, we will not altogether stray from the truth. For the craftsman of all things, having taken from the connatural material the part that is of man, fashions, so to speak, a statue. And just as in the comparison proposed, the form of the stone is carved out by a light effort at first, which is rather dim at the beginning, but more perfect once the work is finished: so also in the carving of this our instrument, ^D according to the proportion of the subject matter, just as it is perfected, the soul also shines forth more and more, revealing itself as imperfect while that is still imperfect, and then perfect in the perfect. But it would have been perfect from the beginning, had not nature been curtailed by vice. Therefore, the [original state] toward the

^A association with an emotional and animal birth, did not cause the divine image to shine forth immediately in the creature, but leads man to perfection by a certain way and succession, through the material and more animal-like properties of the soul. The great Apostle teaches this doctrine in his epistle to the Corinthians, saying: "When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things." Not that a different soul enters the man than the one conceived of in the youth, by which the more childish mind is abolished ^B and the adult mind arises; but the same soul, in the one showing what is imperfect, and in the other demonstrating what is perfect. For just as we say that things that are born and grow are alive, and no one would call those that possess life and natural motion inanimate, yet it cannot be said that such life participates in a perfect soul. For the psychic activity that occurs in plants does not reach as far as sensory movements. Again, a certain psychic power added to irrational creatures ^C does not reach the goal, as it does not contain within itself the faculty of reason and intellect. For this reason we say that the true and perfect soul is human, recognized by its every activity. If anything else participates in life, we call it animate in a metaphorical sense, and not because the soul is perfect in such things, but rather that we see in them certain parts of psychic activity—which we have learned from the mystical account of Moses on the creation of man were added to man because of his affinity for the passions. ^D For this reason, Paul, advising those who wish to attain perfection, and suggesting the way by which they might obtain what they seek, says that it is necessary to put off the old man and put on the new, who is being renewed after the image of him who created him. But let us all return to that God-like grace in which God created man at the beginning, saying: "Let us make man in our image and likeness," to whom be glory and power for ages of ages. Amen.

In the words: Let us make man in our image and likeness.

OF OUR HOLY FATHER GREGORY OF NYSSA: On the words of Scripture, "Let us make man according to our image and likeness." ORATION I.

^A I come to pay the debt of exposition ^B to your ears, for which I have long been beholden as if by a pecuniary loan; the payment of which I have delayed, not through the fault of an ungrateful mind, but hindered by the infirmity of my body. It would indeed be unjust, after we have learned what pertains to the wild beasts, the swimming creatures, the beasts of the field, and the birds, and to the heaven and the things in heaven, and to the earth and the things that are upon the earth, not to have the things regarding our own generation also enlightened by the divinely-inspired Scripture. For just as our eyes, while they see things outside of themselves, do not see themselves, unless they look upon some smooth and solid surface, so that the gaze, being refracted and flowing back as if by a reflux, makes them see their own reflection; so too our mind, while seeing other things, does not see itself, unless it should apply itself to the Scriptures. For the light that is in them is reflected, and causes us to perceive and know ourselves. But because we neglect them, and do not care to know how we were made and constructed, it happens that we are ignorant of what or what kind of beings we are, and have no knowledge of those things which are within us, although they are the least, and the easiest and most ready of all things. And although many faculties have dedicated all their study to knowing the human body (for if you consider the medical art, you will easily observe how many things it has taught concerning the utility of its parts; how many things it has devised concerning our interior structure through dissections; how many hidden and secret paths it has laid open, so that it might investigate the unified concert and concord of the whole body, the ducts of the spirit and blood, the attraction of the soul, the dwelling place and seat of heat in the heart, the perpetual movement of the spirit in the pericardium, and other innumerable things), we are nevertheless ignorant of all these, inasmuch as we do not apply ourselves to such study, nor is there almost anyone who cares to know what he himself is. We can more easily know the heaven than ourselves. Therefore, do not despise the miracle that is in you. For as you think, you are small; but the Word, when it approaches, will find you great. For this reason, the wise David, knowing how to examine himself accurately, says, "I have been marvelously made,"

[Ps. CXXXVIII, 14]. From where is it possible to find knowledge of you by such a wonderful manner? From myself, "Marvelously was thy knowledge made from me." Recognizing the artifice of the Wisdom by which my body was constructed, from this small structure I perceived the great Creator. ^A "Let us make man in our image and likeness," [Gen. I, 26]. It has been shown recently, in passing, and sufficiently demonstrated who it is that speaks and to whom the word is addressed; and the Church possesses the proofs concerning these things, or rather, it possesses a faith firmer than any proof. "Let us make man." Begin from here to know yourself. Not yet in any other work was this voice recorded. Light came to be, but by a simple command of God saying, "Let there be light." The heaven, and it was heaven without consultation: the stars, and no deliberation preceded the stars: the sea, and the infinite waters arose at the voice of the one commanding. In the same manner all the races of fish, beasts, and whales, and the animals that swim and that fly, were made by the Word of God commanding. Here, not yet is there man, and counsel is held concerning man. He did not say, as in the case of the others: "Let man come to be."

Learn your price and your dignity. He did not cast forth your procreation by command and order, but there was counsel and deliberation in God, as to how such an animal might be brought into life. "Let us make," the wise one counsels, the artisan meditates. Is anything lacking to His art? By what difficulty was He compelled to counsel, that He might make His dear work absolute and perfect and refined? Is it perhaps to show you that you are perfect before God? Observe two persons; the one who speaks, and the other to whom the word is directed. Why, however, did He not say, "Make," but "Let us make man"? So that you might understand the command and authority: ^B so that, knowing the Father, you might not be ignorant of the Son, that you might know that the Father made through the Son, and the Son created by the Father's will; and that you might praise the Father in the Son, and the Son in the Holy Spirit. You have become their common work, so that you might worship and honor them equally, lest you divide veneration and worship, since you understand that the divinity is one. See the history by its form, and the theology by its power. "And God made man." "Let us make," He says, and "He made": ^C lest you believe in a manifold number of Gods. For if it were said that many made him, men could be led to heap up for themselves many multitudes of Gods. But now it is written, "Let us make," so that you may know the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit; and "God made man," so that you may unite the divinity, and know that it is one. ^D And I say one, not by unity of persons, but by power; so that when you approach to worship, you may praise and honor one God, and not be distracted into a multitude of Gods. He did not say, "The gods made man." But, "God made man." Proper is the hypostasis, or person, of the Father, proper that of the Son, proper that of the Holy Spirit. Why then are there not three Gods? Because there is one divinity. For the divinity which you see in the Father, the same you see in the Son. And the same as in the Son, you see in the Holy Spirit. Since the form in each is one. And the beginning from the Father in the Son is the same, and for this reason there is one worship and one doxology among us. The prelude of our creation is true theology.

^A «Let us make man in our image and likeness.» We have been made in the image of God. How, then, are we in the image of God? Let us purify our minds of vulgar, unlearned, and ignorant notions concerning God.

^B If we are made in the image of God, he says, God is shaped like us: He is endowed with eyes, ears, a head, hands, and the hip upon which He rests (for it is said in Scripture that God sits); and with feet, upon which He walks. Is God, then, like this? Banish from your mind such absurd notions. Cast away the thought that diminishes the greatness of God. God is without shape (ἀσχημάτιστος), simple, without magnitude, and without dimension. Do not imagine a form about Him; do not, in the Jewish manner, belittle the Great One; do not encompass God with bodily concepts; do not circumscribe Him with your own mind. He is incomprehensible in His magnitude. Contemplate the Great One, and to the Great One, add still more than what you have contemplated, and to that greater amount add even more, and persuade your own reason that it will never reach the infinite. Do not think of a shape, for God is known through His power, through the simplicity of His nature, and through the magnitude of His greatness. He is everywhere and exceeds everything; He is undefinable in His lack of shape, and that which exceeds your comprehension is confined neither by magnitude, nor captured by shape, nor measured by power, nor constricted by time, nor defined by boundaries. There is nothing in relation to God that is like things in relation to us. How, then, did Scripture say that we were made in the image of God? Let us be taught the things of God, and let us consider the things of our own selves, that we do not have our "in the image of" in the form of the body; for when the body decays, the form is lost. But the incorruptible is not shaped in the corruptible, nor is a corruptible thing the image of the incorruptible. The body increases, diminishes, ages, and is altered; it is one thing in youth, another when it is healthy, and another when it is in the midst of passions; one thing when fearing, and another when rejoicing; one thing in need, another in fullness; one thing in peace, another in war; one color when awake, and another when sleeping. In the former, a ruddier hue blossoms forth, as the heat moves outward, while in the latter, the heat has cooled and contracted to the depths; hence, the bodies of those sleeping are pale. How, then, can that which is altered be like that which is unalterable? Like that which is always in the same state, that which never remains the same? It escapes us like flowing things; before it is seen, it has slipped away; the human body appears as one thing after another. «In our image.» How will the flowing image be able to be saved in that which is of an immutable nature? How will the formed image be saved in the formless? How, then, shall we seek that which is "in the image"? In those things which the Lord Himself said. If I bring forward anything of my own, do not accept it; if it is of the Lord, accept it. «Let us make man...» ^{C D}

Is it in the body or in the faculty of reason? Does this empire reside in the soul or in the flesh? Our flesh is much weaker than that of many animals. For what comparison can the flesh of a man have with the flesh of a camel, or an ox, or any wild beast you might choose? Human flesh is vulnerable, laid open to the flesh of beasts. But in what does the ruling power consist? In the excellence of reason. By as much as a man is weaker than the other living creatures in bodily strength, by so much is he superior in the arrangement of his reason. For the huge masses and weights which men move at their own will, wherever they wish, are moved and impelled by skill, not by bodily strength. ^A

"Let us make man after Our image":

"Let us make man after Our image":

"And let him have dominion."

"And let him have dominion over the fishes."

rather rejoice and glory in the sovereignty granted to you by God? When you see your master enslaved to pleasure, while you are temperate, do you not understand that you are a slave in name only, while he, though possessing sovereignty in name, is in reality held in the most grievous servitude? You see him bound and fettered to a harlot, while you despise and spurn harlots. Therefore, you are the master of your passions, while he is the slave of those pleasures which you have conquered. Thus, the text, "Let us make man, and let him have dominion," ^A signifies that wherever the power to rule exists, there is the image of God.

"Let them have dominion over the fish." First, the authority over those things that are separated from us was given to us. He did not say, "Let them have dominion over the living creatures that are reared along with them," but "over the fish," for their dwelling is in the water. Therefore, the authority over the fish was the first given to us. And how do we rule over the fish? If you have ever found yourself appearing by a lake, how your shadow strikes fear into everything! What master of a household, suddenly arriving where his servants are in an uproar, puts them to silence and restores everything to order by the mere presence of the one in command? How does all the aquatic creation change its behavior upon the appearance of one man? It no longer pursues its free course, and it does not dare to swim on the surface of the sea or the lake. The dolphin itself, which is the most kingly of those that swim, ^B stands in awe when it sees a human nearby. Thus was dominion over those that swim given to man.

But when you see that your own reason governs and controls all things, do you not see that you rule over the sea monsters? I have observed human ingenuity, how they construct certain hooks and attach to them bait in proportion to the size of the whales that would swallow them. Then, at the ends of those lines to which the hooks are attached, at the other end, they fasten skins inflated with air, and letting them go, they cast them afloat upon the sea. When the wild monsters swallow the bait, accepting the hooks of their own accord, they drag the skins down into the depths. But the nature of the skins, being buoyant, pulls back toward the surface, and the creatures, pierced by their own food, churn up and down, and in their agitation, they explore the depths. They traverse sea after sea, and despite their great strength, having no success, they are finally captured by that hook, ^C exhausted by their struggle, overcome by hunger, and dragged along as a corpse with the skins; they become the prey of the hunter. The small overcomes the great; the weak, the massive. Why is this? Because man, having received the power to rule through the abundance of his reason, leads those who are most disobedient to justice, just like wicked fugitives. Those who cannot be brought to obedience through gentleness, he enslaves through necessity. Thus, the power to rule, implanted in man by the Creator, is evident everywhere. From this it comes to pass that the swordfish, the hammerhead sharks, the whales, the sawfish, the seals, and all those other terrible varieties of sea monsters have been made subject to man. ^D

^A Do you not see the heavy, roaring lion, whose very name is unbearable and whose growl makes the earth tremble? To whom is it so endurable that he could withstand its onslaught? No animal is so confident in its own power that it could endure the force of a lion. Yet you see him enclosed in a small cage. Who has imprisoned him? Who devised this small jail for such a huge beast? Who, by the thinness of those wooden bars, prepared a way for the beast to breathe, so that he might not be choked by his own panting, but rather was given the means to breathe freely and had his safety provided for? Who? Isn't it man? Man makes playthings of the cruellest beasts. Does he not mock the leopards when he holds up a paper shaped like a man? They tear the paper to pieces, while man, lying below, mocks the stupidity of the beast. Does man not, therefore, excel all things?

What shall I say of the birds? Man does not ascend into the air, for he has no wings, but he tracks the flight of birds by the power of his reason. For nothing can restrain the intellect. It investigates the things in the deepest parts of the sea, it hunts those things that inhabit the land, and it captures those that move in the air. Have you ever seen a bird sitting on the highest branch of a tree, feeling secure and scorning men, yet being caught by a playing child? He joins reeds to reeds and smears the tips with birdlime. Then, hiding among the branches and leaves, he arranges and places them so that the birdlime is not visible to the eyes of the bird hovering above. ^B By a slight touch, he overcomes it and holds it fast—the creature that inhabits the air and wanders in the ether. Man remains below, and his hand is below, but his thought ascends. And so there is nothing that he cannot reach through his art. He seeks the winged creatures with nets and arrows, and lures the greedier ones with bait. Have you ever seen an eagle, reaching for its prey, get caught in a snare? Thus, that which sought the heights is brought down, pulled by human lures. God has subjected all things to the hand of man. He filled the whole world, and He did not wish man to be without dominion. Do not say that you are surpassed by those things that move in the air; for by reason, even they become subject to you, just as you are the master of those that walk and creep upon the earth by reason. Do you see in what consists your being made in the image of God? ^{C D} “And God made man.” What, then, is man? Let us define him from what we have learned and heard. For there is no longer any need for us to borrow definitions from others, nor to insert into our discourse of truth things taken from external vanity. Man is a rational work of God, made in the image of Him who created him. If anything further is desired in this definition, let those who have labored much in the studies of transient wisdom consider it. Man was made in the image of God. “And God blessed man, and said: Increase and multiply, and fill the earth.” It is in the same way that He blessed also

^A fish. And God said: “Let the waters bring forth the creeping things of living souls, and it was so.” And then God said: “Increase, and multiply, and fill the waters.” What then, you will ask, is there for me over and above these? Necessarily, these things, which He has shared with you, and other specific gifts remain for you. For you grow, just as the other living creatures do, and gradually through increments you arrive from a small size at the proper and perfect magnitude. Thus also horses and dogs, thus also eagles and ^B swans, and everything else you might name, upon receiving the perfection of growth by the small increment of the first conception, return again through diminution to a smaller size. Therefore, what was common to nature, He bestowed upon us as well. “Increase,” that is, be nourished, and when you are born small, become large, and let there be an end to this growth. For not because in the first septenniad we are nourished, and the transition of age takes us into the second septenniad of years, are we to suppose that we ought in every part of our lives, according to septenniads, to undergo a change of age. The first septenniad contains childhood. The boundaries of childhood are manifest: the change of teeth. The ones fall out; others grow in their place. Growth received a second beginning toward the end of the fourteenth year; the second stage, then, is that of the boys. For first a babe, then a boy, ^C then a youth, then a man from the fourteenth year—here are the boundaries of the third stage of growth. “Increase,” therefore—not that if one reaches the age of one hundred years, he continues to admit of growth from the first year to the hundredth, but this word, “Increase,” spoken wisely, is managed with providence. Increase up to a certain point; there are not, however, measures of growth [without end]. According to the first constitution established in the womb, the principles of growth were also established. For the gift of age is not something newer that comes subsequently, but the maternal seeds have within them the abilities for growth already deposited. The teeth have fallen out; we have known that such a measure of growth has been attained. A father measures the three-year-old child; he knows that he will attain double that size in his ^D maturity. For as much as he is at the third year, so much he will be, or rather, he will be such amount at the fulfillment of his growth. This is the boundary and measure of human nature, up to the limit, from the first septenniad to the second. There, then, the heat is more abundant, the formation of the body more rarefied, the moisture fails, the limbs are strengthened; in the beginning of the stronger stage of those nearing adulthood, men exist, not yet having, however, the perfection. For their flesh is still newly set and unsuited for arduous labors. The animal thus acquired lightness and agility. But in the third septenniad, it attains the perfection of growth. No longer does the body stretch in length after the third septenniad. When nature has finished the labors of its upward growth, it begins to pass on into width, and as it were to lay the foundations of what was raised up, and to build onto them, and to make the limbs of the body strong. Nature does these things according to its own order. The power of this order, however, depends upon that first command of God, which, having been issued once, proceeds through all things that are created to the very end.

^A “Be fruitful and multiply.” ^B “Be fruitful,” that is, so that creation might not be confined to one; “multiply,” that is, so that it might not be confined to one, but to many. “And fill the earth.” Fill it, I say, not by habitation—for we would be stifled if the earth were so filled by us that it measured out equally to us—but fill it by authority. For He gave us dominion over the earth. “Fill the earth.” Men do not, of course, fill this by necessity, but He made us lords to fill it, and we fill it through our reason. When we see what portion of the earth is scorched and uninhabitable; when we see the northern climate, which because of excessive cold is uncultivable and useless—have we not filled the earth? Have we not left behind what was useless for human conduct while selecting what was useful? So that, in the command “Fill the earth,” He made us lords. Not because we do not have use of the whole, do we therefore not have dominion over the whole. For when you have bought grain, you are nonetheless lord of all of it, even though you have in the grain that which is edible and that which is to be cast away. You cast away the grit, the stones, the chaff, and whatever else is mixed in that is unfit for food; having winnowed the chaff and separated the tares, you select what is pure for the sustenance of life. Thus, then, the earth was bestowed: one part suitable for the dwelling of the fitting or the better sort, another necessary for agriculture, another left for the grazing of four-footed animals. Tell me, is it not possible for me to dispose of the earth as I wish, since I have been made its lord by the gift of the Master who created me? “And fill the earth, and rule over the fish of the sea, and the birds of the air, and the beasts of the earth.” This, then, is the blessing, this the legislation, this the dignity given to us by God. “And God made man; according to the image of God He made him.” Have I not pointed out to you that the demonstration was lacking? “Let us make man according to our image and likeness.” The counsel had two parts: “according to the image,” and “according to the likeness.” The creation has but one. Was His counsel otherwise, and did He then change His mind? Did some repentance follow in the creation? Was there some weakness in the Creator, that He should determine one thing and do another, or was there some idle chatter in His words? For perhaps He says this, “Let us make man according to the image and likeness,” since by saying “according to the image,” He has also said “according to the likeness.” But whatever choice we make, we shall be accusing the writer. For if he says this, it is superfluous to say the same things twice. To say that any word in Scripture is redundant is a grave impiety. But if nothing is redundant, nothing is empty, nothing superfluous, then it is necessary that man be made according to the image and likeness of God. Why, then, did He not say, “And God made man according to His image and likeness”? What then? Could He perhaps not have done so? It is impious to say this. Did He repent of His decree? It is wicked even to think this.

^A Does the Scripture say this? No. Does the Creator lack power? No. Was the counsel made void? Not at all. What then is the reason for the silence? “Let us make man according to our image and likeness.” We possess the former by creation; the latter we achieve by our own power of choice. In our first formation, the having been made in the image of God exists in us; the being in the likeness of God is achieved by us in accordance with our power of choice. But this, which is in accordance with choice, exists in us as a capacity, and we bring it into act through ourselves. If the Lord, when making us, had not previously said, “Let us make,” and “According to likeness,” if He had not granted us the power to become according to likeness, we would not have received the likeness to God by our own authority. ^B Now, however, He has made us capable of being like God by power. But by giving the power to be made like God, He left us to be workers of the likeness to God, so that there might be a reward for the labor, and so that we might not be like images produced by a painter, lying about in vain, or so that our likeness might not bring praise to another. For when you see an image accurately formed according to its prototype, you do not praise the image, but you marvel at the painter. Therefore, so that the wonder might be mine and not another’s, He left it to me to become according to the likeness of God. For I have “according to the image” from being rational, but I become “according to the likeness” by becoming a Christian. “Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Do you see where the Lord assigns us the “according to the likeness”? It is because “He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.” ^C If you become a hater of evil, free from resentment, not remembering yesterday’s hostility; if you become a lover of the brethren, compassionate, you have become like God. If you forgive your enemy from the heart, you have become like God. If, as God is toward you, a sinner, so you show yourself toward a brother who has offended you, in your compassion for your neighbor you have become like God; so that while you possess the “according to the image” from being rational, you become the “according to the likeness” from taking on goodness. Take on bowels of mercy, goodness, so that you may put on Christ. For through those things by which you take on compassion, through them you put on Christ, and by intimacy with Him you are made familiar with God. Thus, the history is a training of human life. “Let us make man according to the image.” I have, then, in creation, the “according to the image”; but I become, by my own intention, also “according to the likeness.” Where then is your grace? Why are you crowned? ^D For if the Creator had given everything, how would the kingdom of heaven be opened to you? But now, one thing was given, and the other was left incomplete, so that, by perfecting yourself, you might become worthy of the reward from God.

How, then, do we become according to likeness? Through the Gospels. What is Christianity? It is the likeness of God according to the capacity of human nature. If you have accepted being a Christian, hasten to become like God; put on Christ. But how will you put on Christ if you have not received baptism? If you have not accepted the garment of incorruptibility? Are you sending away the likeness to God? If I said to you, “Come,”

be like a King, would you not consider me a friend and a benefactor? But now, when I wish you to be like God, do you flee and spurn the word that makes you divine, and stop your ears so as not to hear the words of salvation? ^A “And God made man to His own image.” “Man,” says the woman, “so it is written, so that only the male is understood. What is that to me?” But in order that, by the term “man,” you might not understand only the male, He added, “Male and female He made them.” And the woman has the status of having been made in the image of God, just as the man does. The natures are of equal honor; the virtues are equal; the struggles are the same; the judgment is identical. Do not say, “I am weak.” Weakness is in the flesh, but in the soul there is power and strength. Because, therefore, the virtue is equal, let the demonstration of good works also be equal. That softness was not given to the woman without reason, but so that she might be more inclined to humanity and more prone to mercy. In matters, however, that require fortitude, she is robust, constant in vigils and labors. When can man’s nature contend with the nature of a woman living her life courageously? When can a man imitate the firm self-control of a woman in fastings? When can he equal their sedulous zeal in prayers, their pious inclination to weeping, their readiness for well-doing? I have seen a woman secretly using a very noble type of theft. Without her husband knowing, she would distribute from the family wealth to the poor. For the prosperity of her husband, for the flourishing of her family, for the safety of her children, she was bestowing—hiding it from her husband, but doing it for the sake of the husband himself. She was giving on his behalf, though he did not know it. For she was performing it to the favor of Him who sees in secret, and she did not divulge her good deeds. Therefore, the woman also has the status of being in the image. Do not consider the human being who is on the outside. For that is like a veil. But the soul sits within, beneath the veil, even in an infirm body. They are equal in the honor of the soul; the difference is in the veils. ^B Wherefore, that you may become like God, embrace liberality, exercise beneficence, pursue innocence, follow all with brotherly love and benevolence, flee from crimes, and master the perturbations of sin. “And let him have dominion over the fish.” That you may have dominion over the fish that lack reason, overcome the perturbations and movements of the soul that are contrary to reason. ^C “And let him have dominion over the beasts.” You have dominion over every beast. What then? You will say, “Do I have beasts within myself?” You do indeed have beasts, and truly, countless ones; there is a very great multitude of beasts within you. And that you may not think me insulting, tell me, I pray, is anger a small beast when it barks in your heart? Is it not crueler than any dog? What? In your crafty mind, does guile lie hidden—is it not more savage than any treacherous bear? What? Is hypocrisy not a beast, and a most monstrous one at that? Is he not a scorpion who is sharp in his abuse? Is he not more grievous than a viper, who rushes secretly toward revenge? Is not the greedy man a rapacious wolf? There is no beast that is not found within us. Is the lecher not a horse raging with lust? For “horses,” he says, “became lustful; each of them neighed at the neighbor’s wife.” He turned him toward...

In this way, each person is transformed into the nature of some wild beast, according to the specific vice of the soul and the perturbation by which he is overcome. From this it follows that there are within us innumerable wild beasts. Do you believe, ^A therefore, that you are the master and lord of wild beasts, if you rule over those that are outside, but do not tame and govern those that dwell within? To what end do you possess reason, with which you conquer lions and do not fear their roaring, when you yourself gnash your teeth like a lion, and emit from your anger a confused voice and a perturbed clamor? For what is more grave or more bitter than when the fury of anger strives to break forth entirely, and cannot in any way be contained within? When a human being is overcome by some perturbation, it is no longer he who rules, but perturbation that reigns in his soul. Therefore, since you were created in such a way as to rule over beasts, ^B and serpents, and birds, rule over your perturbations. Do not allow your thought to wander on high. Do not let your mind be carried about, unstable in its levity. It was granted to you to preside over the birds: it would be absurd if, while capturing those that fly by means of birdlime, you yourself should be light-headed and carried away by pride. Do not lift up your spirits, do not swell with vanity, do not think too highly of yourself, or believe that you are anything great. For then you will be like the birds, which by nature are light and unstable, being carried hither and thither and flitting about. Therefore, moderate your own mind and govern it, if you wish to rule over all things. In this way, the dominion given to us over the animals trains us and disposes us to rule over ourselves. For it is preposterous ^C for one who is enslaved at home to rule over nations; for one who is mastered inside by a harlot to be a leader of a city in public affairs. It is necessary to manage well one’s own household goods and, having adorned the things within with order, to assume the oversight of others. For the argument will be turned back upon you by those under your rule, if you keep your home disorderly and unarranged, saying: “Physician, heal yourself.” Let us, therefore, first heal ourselves. For no one is condemned because he has not hunted a lion; but having failed to master anger, one is an object of laughter to everyone. Thus, he who does not master his own passion is led to condemnation; but he who has not been able to master wild beasts does not appear to have done anything worthy of reproach. May the Lord, who ordered these things to be written, and who has allowed our weak and feeble tongue ^D to speak to you thus far, and who through our weak intellect has unfolded to you great treasures in these few shadows of the truth, grant to you through the small the great, through the few seeds the perfection of knowledge, and grant to us all the full fruit of the enjoyment of the divine words; for to Him is the glory and the power unto the ages of ages. Amen.

ORATIO II

The wise Solomon, instructed not by the persuasive words of wisdom but by the teaching of the Holy Spirit, in those things which were recently read by us, extolling human nature, cried out saying: “Great is a man, and precious is a merciful man.” Indeed, I, in my own vain thoughts,

^A and in what my mind suggested, and in what I had learned from the Scripture, was considering how great a thing man is, since he is a mortal animal, subject to countless afflictions; one who, from the moment he is brought into the light until old age, is perpetually consumed by a trial of countless troubles and inconveniences, of whom it is written: “O Lord, what is man, that Thou art mindful of him? Or the son of man, that Thou visitest him?” The Psalmist indeed scorns man as a worthless animal, while the Proverb praises and commends him as something great and glorious. But the history of the creation of man, ^B when read, resolved this doubt of mine. For we have now heard that God took dust from the earth and fashioned man. From this word, I found both things: that man is nothing, and that man is a great thing. If you look only to his nature, man is nothing and worth nothing; but if you look to the honor with which he has been honored, man is a great thing. To what honor? “God said, Let there be light, and there was light.” Compare the creation of man and the creation of light. There He said, “Let there be a firmament.” The great heaven was stretched out above us, having come to be by the word of God; the stars, and the sun, and the moon, and all things that we gaze upon with the eye, and all the magnitudes we comprehend in our mind, ^C attained their being by a word. The sea and the earth, and the adornment within them—the various kinds of animals, the manifold varieties of plants—all these came to be by a word. But man, how? It was not said, “Let there be man,” as it was said, “Let there be a firmament.” Rather, you see something more in man than in light, than in heaven, than in the luminaries; the creation of man is above all. “The Lord God took…” He deigns to fashion our body with His own hand. He did not command an angel; the earth did not cast us forth of its own accord like cicadas; He did not order this to be done by ministering powers. Rather, with His own hand, the benevolent Artificer played the craftsman, and took earth. When you look to what was taken, what is man? When you look to the One who fashioned him, man is a great thing, so that he is ^D “nothing” because of the material, and “great” because of the honor.

“And God took…” But why, since it was said before, “And God made man,” is it said here in his creation, as if we had not understood it, in the history: “And God took dust from the earth and fashioned man”? Some have already handed down the view that the word “fashioned” refers to the body, but “made” to the soul. This reasoning does not perhaps diverge far from the truth. For where it is said, “And God made man,” it is said “He made him in the image of God”; but when the account proceeds to explain what pertains to the constitution of the body, the word “fashioned” is used, especially since David himself seems to have taught the distinction between these words when he said: “Thy hands have made me and fashioned me.” He made the inner man, He fashioned the outer. For “to fashion” is appropriate for clay, but “to make” for the image of God. Wherefore the flesh was fashioned, but the soul was made. Having therefore set forth before those things which pertain to the constitution of the soul, He now narrates those things which pertain to the fashioning of the body.

There is also this other reason: the former passage speaks summatim (in summary), while the latter explains and narrates the method of how it was done. You have already heard that God made man; now you understand the manner in which He made him. For if it had been written simply, "He made," you might have thought that man was made like the cattle, like the wild beasts, like the plants, like the grass. Therefore, in order that you may avoid any communion with the irrational creatures, ^A the Word has handed down the craftsmanship of God that pertains specifically to you. "God took dust from the earth." In the former passage He said that He made, but here He explains how He made. He took dust from the earth, and fashioned it with His own hands. Reflect on how you were fashioned. Consider the workshop of nature. It is the hand of God that received you; let not that which was fashioned by God be defiled by wickedness, let it not be altered by sin, let it not fall from the hand of God. You are a vessel fashioned by God, created by God; glorify your Maker. For you were not created for any other reason than that you should be an instrument suited for the celebration of God’s glory. ^B Indeed, this whole world is like a written book, dictating the glory of God; it declares to you, who possess a mind, the hidden and invisible greatness of God, for the understanding of the truth. By all means, therefore, remember what has been said.

"And God blessed them and said, 'Increase and multiply, and replenish the earth.'" This is a twofold increase, one of the body, the other of the soul. The increase of the soul is that which, through instruction, adds to its perfection; for the increase of the body is the restoration from a small state to the proper and fitting measure. "Increase," therefore, is said to irrational animals in regard ^C to bodily perfection and the completion of their nature; but to us, it is said in regard to the inner man, in regard to the progress that is towards God, as Paul was, "stretching forward to those things which are before, and forgetting those which are behind." This is the increase of contemplations, the acquisition of piety, the extension of the greater, our continually reaching out for those things that are, always leaving behind that which has already come to pass, and straining with all our might for that which is lacking in piety. Such was Isaac, concerning whom that testimony is recorded, that as he progressed he grew until he became great. He did not stand still, nor did he remain having grown only a little; but he always pressed forward with great strides. ^D He advanced to the works of virtue; he advanced with a great stride through temperance, he stepped onto justice. From there he ascended to fortitude. Thus moving forward, the righteous man reaches the summit of the height of good. "Increase," therefore, with the increase which is perfection according to God, the perfection in the inner man; "multiply" by the fruitfulness of the Church. Let not theology be restricted to one, but let the Gospel of salvation be preached throughout all the earth. "Multiply." Who? Those who are born according to the Gospel. "Replenish the earth." Replenish the flesh given to you for service with good works. Let the eye be full of seeing what is necessary. Let the hand be full of good works. Let the feet be for the visitation of the weak, being ready to go to the...

^A the performance of those things which are fitting. Finally, let all our members be filled with the observance of the commandments of God. This is what that voice signifies, "Fill the earth." And that utterance, which is common to us with the rest of the living creatures, is properly referred to us, when it is understood in that sense, in which we have been honored and made in the image of God. For other animals increase by bodily growth, but we by incorporeal growth, and that which pertains to the spirit. And those indeed fill the earth with a multitude, but we fill the earth of our body, joined with good things, with good works.

"Behold, I have given you every tree having fruit in itself, that it may be for you to eat." Let not the Church let this pass by. All things are righteous. He did not say, "I have given you fish for food; I have given you whales, and creeping things, and ^B quadrupeds." For He did not create them for that purpose, as He says. But the first legislation granted the enjoyment of fruits; for we were still considered worthy of paradise. Is there some mystery hidden here? For the fruits and the grass were given to us and to the beasts and to the birds of the air, and to all the animals of the earth for eating. But we see many animals that do not eat fruit. For with what fruit does the leopard or the lion feed? Yet these, subject to the law of nature, were nourished by fruits. But when man had departed from the commandment, and was living outside paradise, after the flood, the Lord, seeing that men were stubborn, granted them to eat of all things: "Everything that moves and lives ^C shall be for you to eat; as the green herbs I have given all things to you." By this concession, the rest of the animals also obtained the liberty of eating.

From that time on, the lion became flesh-eating, and vultures [became] greedy for carcasses. For they did not roam the earth as soon as they were born. For nothing had yet died of those things which had been either made by God or generated, such that vultures might be nourished; nor did nature separate and dissolve [bodies], for it was vigorous. Nor did hunters kill; for men were not yet occupied with such pursuits. Nor did wild beasts mangle; for they were not yet flesh-eating. Nor had the vultures themselves become accustomed to feeding on carcasses; since there were not yet carcasses, not yet stench, not yet such food for vultures; but all lived after the manner of swans, all grazed in the meadows. And just as we see dogs ^D often eating grass for the sake of healing, not because that food is natural to them, but because, being prompted by a certain instinct of nature, these irrational animals are led to that which is beneficial for them, so consider these flesh-eating animals to have been at that time, not planning traps for one another, but, as if to say, thinking of grass as food for themselves. But such as the restoration is to be after this, such was the first genesis. And man returns to his former state, putting aside wickedness; this life of many cares, this servitude of the soul regarding worldly things, putting all these away, he returns to that life in paradise, the one unenslaved to the passions of the flesh, the free one, the one communing with God, the one living with the angels. These things, therefore, have been spoken by us, not because we wish to shut off the use of the foods granted to us by God, but that the...

happiness of the past time might be shown. What that life was like, how tranquil, how rich, how few the things men required for their sustenance, and how, with the various kinds of feasts, the causes of sin entered in together. ^A For after we fell from those true delights of paradise, and no longer behold the tree of life, nor can we enjoy or boast in those honorable and splendid pleasures, we have devised adulterated delights for ourselves, and have found cooks and bakers, and various kinds of sweetmeats and incense, and such things to comfort our loss of that place; just as when those who are sick are brought low by a severe illness, not being able to share in their customary enjoyment, doctors provide them with certain sweetnesses of odors and other such congruent diversions, and caress their weakened senses. ^B Since they have fallen from the stronger things for enjoyment, those who flatter their senses devise things measured to the sick. Nevertheless, even now, wishing to lead ourselves in imitation of the life in paradise, let us avoid this complex enjoyment of foods, and let us, as far as we are able, bring ourselves toward that life, using fruits and seeds and legumes for our sustenance, but casting away and disdaining the rest as superfluous and not at all necessary. For although they are not detestable, as they have been granted to us by the Creator himself, yet they are not to be taken for the sake of the gratification of the flesh. "And God rested from all his works on the seventh day." ^C Let the arithmeticians, then, and those who apply themselves to such studies, and who put forth the wisdom of such matters as something great, say that the number six was generated along with the world, that it is a productive number, bringing forth many kinds of numbers from itself, and that it is perfect in its own parts, and whatever else they are accustomed to say about the number six in their scholarly discourses; if there is time, let it be said by itself. But let them also say of the seven, that there is a certain sterility in the seventh. For the number seven neither generates from itself, nor is it generated by another. And that I may not lead my discourse into a complex subject, passing over the argument directed to you, I shall move on to things more readily understood. But if anyone is skilled in this sort of faculty, let him know that the treasure of such things also lies hidden among us. ^D Wherefore if arithmetic is to be esteemed as great, here are its seeds. But it is not a concern to us to pilfer these small things from the wisdom of the world, as if to insert something great into our own orations. That it may be evident, therefore, that we contemn those things which they admire, let us pass over them in silence, especially since the knowledge of them cannot be so easily grasped by any of the common people, and those who hear me do not so much move to admiration the things that are being said, but rather things which instruct the character and life, and they demand and expect them. The seventh day is renowned. For the sabbath is reckoned by the Jews as the seventh day, [in which the feast of Tabernacles, the Trumpets, the day of Atonement.] And the seventh year is observed by them as well, and is called the year of remission. For it was allowed to them to cultivate the land for six years, but in the seventh year they left it unplowed and free, when in

^A their own land, they were enjoying the law of the seventh year. The Hebrew served for six years, and in the seventh he was released from his servitude. In the seventieth year captivity was loosened among them. Now let us turn to our own matters. “Seven times,” he says, “shall the just man fall, and rise again.” Thus do we appropriate the week to ourselves. The seventh from the creation, Enoch, did not see death; a mystery of the Church. The seventh from Abraham, Moses, received the law, in which there was contained a change of life, a dissolution of iniquity, an entrance into justice, a pilgrimage of God, a constitution of the world, and a prescription for things to be done. In the seventy-seventh generation after Adam, Christ appeared. Peter understands the mystery of the week. “How many times,” he says, “shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Until seven times?” ^B The Lord said, “I do not say to you until seven times, but until seventy times seven.” The mystery knows but few things; he had not yet learned, for he was still the disciple. “Until seven times?” the disciple did not depart from the septenary number. The disciple said what he knew. The Lord abounded in riches. “How many times shall he sin, and I forgive?” Why did He not say six times, or eight times, but seven? Why did the Lord not answer “a hundred times a hundred,” but multiplied the number seven? Neither did Peter ask for anything else, nor did the Lord depart from the septenary rule. Peter had observed from the ancient norm of tradition that the septenary number contained a certain power of the remission of sins and of perfect rest, the sign of which is the Sabbath—the seventh day from the creation. Peter says seven times; the Lord says seventy times seven. ^C Furthermore, even sins are punished seven times. Does it not say: “Whoever kills Cain, he shall be punished sevenfold”? Neither did it say eightfold there, but sevenfold. Why so? Wait a little, and you shall find the mystery. The first sin of Cain is avenged sevenfold; the second murder, that of Lamech, seventy times sevenfold. For it says: “From Cain vengeance shall be taken seven times, but from Lamech seventy times seven.” Therefore, if Peter’s seventh remission refers to Cain’s punishment, the seventy-seventh condemnation refers to the punishment of Lamech; that as great as the transgression is, so great is the grace, and where the crime is small, the pardon is small: “For to whom little is forgiven, he loves little.” “Where sin abounded, grace did superabound.” ^D What, then, is the mystery? The eighth day is called the age of judgment, in which the sinner will be punished seven times, and the one who sins to excess, seventy times seven; the just man will be rewarded seven times, and the one who is just to excess, seventy times seven. The kindness of God now shows us the future through enigmas; but then, in His very presence, the truth will be clear and manifest. For then it will be revealed what each is worthy of. Therefore, the Lord will pardon the sevenfold vengeance due to us sinners, if through confession and repentance we shall have appeased Him here. On which account, since we are not ignorant of that formidable day and the vengeance reserved for sinners,

by repenting beforehand, let us dissolve our sins, that we may escape the painful multiplication of that requital there. Let us, therefore, say that this day is a sign and token of that eighth day, the consummation of the age. ^A “And God rested from his works.” There will be no more works of the world on that day, no more marriages, no more commercial transactions, no more farming, but the whole earth shall be in horror and fear, all created things shall be in contention, labor shall be inconsolable, and even the righteous shall be in contention, wondering what verdict shall at last be pronounced concerning them. Even Abraham shall struggle then—not that he might be condemned to Gehenna, but in which rank of the righteous he shall be placed: the first, or the second, or the third. The Lord is from the heavens, and the heavens are rent asunder, power is revealed, all creation is trembling. Who is without fear? Not even the angels. They, too, stand by, not that they must give an account to God; but nevertheless, the glorious appearance strikes trembling into all. Do you not hear Isaiah saying: “If you should open the heaven, trembling shall seize the mountains from before you”? In which the sea has congealed, in which creation shall rest, nature is dead; then the righteous are caught up, then the clouds are the carriage of the righteous, then the angels are the conductors of the righteous, then the righteous are taken up as stars from earth to heaven; ^B but the sinners, bound, fettered by the weight of their own sins, shall fall downward, shamefully and most despicably.

That seventh day, therefore, is modeled upon this seventh. “And God rested from all his works.” Those things which pertain to this life will not be on that day. The desires of the young shall be lulled; there shall no longer be any design for marriage; there shall be no desire for childbearing; there shall be no concern for gold. The covetous man shall forget his purse, the wealthy man shall forget his land, the glory-seeker shall forget his glory. All those things shall have flown from the mind. The soul shall be with Him who is to be feared, in expectation of the impending terrors. For fear drives away every passionate thought that dwells within our souls. Where there is the fear of God, all stains of passion are driven from our mind. This seventh day is a type of that seventh day. “And God took dust from the earth, and God formed man.” The creation of the world was not completed, nor was the sequence interrupted so that the narrative concerning us might be introduced, but it was said: “God made man, and rested from all his works.” And since he took his ease, he teaches us how he made him. “God took dust from the earth.” ^C When you hear “dust,” learn to put away human pride; do not show partiality to the persons of men. Why do you think highly of yourself? When thoughts of pride and inflammation come into your heart, let the reminder of your creation enter into you—how you were created. “God took dust from the earth, and God formed man.” When are you able to forget yourself? You forget yourself when you depart from the earth. But if you are never separated from the earth, but are rooted fast to the earth, walking upon the earth, resting upon the earth, judging upon the earth—everything that you do, whether great or small… ^D

you have a monument of your abject condition. You are insulting and irascible; whence comes this indignation and anger in you, from such a lowly state? You cannot bear to be called ignoble or born of an obscure place, and you contend so that he who spoke ill of you might hear worse from you in return? Cast your eyes down and look at the earth, and your anger will immediately be stilled. Look at the earth and think to yourself thus: "He called me ignoble and base-born." He said less than the reality. For he did not call me begotten of the earth, but of a man. But how much more precious is a living man, endowed with a soul, than the earth which is trodden underfoot? ^A I, however, look upon the ancient mother, the earth, so that it is not an insult to be born of a servant, but an honor to be born a living being. And he who thinks he is insulting me has, without knowing it, honored me all the more. For I, knowing the nature of my own being, know who I am and whence I am. Thus, this remembrance that we were made from the earth never allows anger to stay awake. Let the earth be an ally to your reason, always present and reminding you. When you run toward some desire, consider how you pass away; if you consider that you will be dissolved into earth, the desire of your madness ceases. "You are earth, and into earth you shall go." ^B Remember that in a little while these limbs that now pulse, or the current desire of the flesh, will after a little while be no more, the limbs having been dissolved and decomposed into earth. Remember your nature, and all impulse toward evil is broken. Let this remembrance be a safeguard for us against every sin. "God formed man, taking clay from the earth." Beautiful is humility; the monument is connatural. If He had said, "God formed man, taking the material from heaven," when would we look upon that heaven so as to be reminded of our nature? The monument of our own nothingness is present at hand from the very things we tread upon. Look at the earth, and remember that you have drawn your lineage from the contemptible matter of it. What, therefore, is baser than us? What more abject? What is more fitting for us than that we should behave humbly and consider ourselves nothing? Have you seen someone proud and arrogant, ^C dressed in various garments, and wearing a splendid ring with a precious stone upon his finger and showing it off, clad in silken threads and surrounded by servants, with his hair let down, fair, and carefully groomed, adorned with gold necklaces, and sitting upon silver chairs or walking with a haughty gait, thinking magnificently of himself, boasting grandly because of the multitude of servants and flatterers whom he lures with sumptuous tables, because of the salutations which they all bring to him in the marketplace, while they rise from their benches when he arrives with his lictors, or walk out to meet him, or conduct him there and back? When you see these princes stepping forth with the great voice of a herald, when you see them casting terror into this one, and raging against that one, confiscating the property of another, and those whom they subject to death...

do not be afraid of what is happening; do not be shaken at the things occurring, and do not let the spectacle make you perceive the one who commands them as a stranger. Remember that God fashioned man out of clay from the earth. If it is anything else, be afraid; but if it is clay from the earth, despise it. ^A “And God fashioned man.” This voice, “fashioned,” does not immediately reveal to us some technical craft of God regarding man. God fashioned. Did He fashion as they do who mold things of clay? As those who cast bronze? But the molding of a statue and the fashioning of plaster have likeness only as far as the surface. You have seen a statue, how it stands with a certain demeanor. The statue of a soldier reflects anger, or the bronze reflects feminine disposition when it is shaped into a woman, or anything else, as much as art can introduce through imitation into the character of the expression. But the fashioning by God is not such; rather, He fashioned man, and His creative energy arranged everything, having gone through to the inner depths. ^B If I had enough leisure to show you the construction of man, and you learned from yourself the wisdom of God concerning you, that man is in truth a little world, and those who honor him with this name have done well—how many treatises have been expended on this matter? Physical studies of physicians, the observations of gymnasts, or those concerning proportion, or the symmetry of the members toward one another, concerning the abundance of excess flesh—all these enter into the fashioning of man. And whence would I have such speech that I could say with precision all that is contained in the one word “fashioned”? But the ready points, even if I do not speak them, you know. ^C God fashioned man upright; He gave this distinct fashioning to you above the rest of the animals. Why? Because He was about to bestow upon you a distinct activity. For the others are cattle, and they have their construction for the purpose for which they were born. The sheep was born to graze; it has its head bent downward, looking at the belly and at what is under the belly, since the end of happiness for them is the fullness and pleasure of the belly. But man no longer looks at his belly, but upward; his head is elevated so that he may look at the realm above; his eyes do not incline toward the earth. Do not, therefore, act against your nature; do not scrutinize earthly things, but heavenly things, where Christ is. “For if you have been raised,” he says, “with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is.” Thus you were fashioned. This very fashioning is a school training you for the end for which you have come to be. You came to be so that you might behold God, not so that your life might be dragged upon the earth, not so that you might have the pleasure of a beast, but so that you might perform the heavenly life. For this reason the eyes of the wise man are in his head, the wise Ecclesiastes says. Whose eyes are not in his head? But they are in his head, that is, so that they may look upon the things above. ^D But he who does not look at the things above, but at earthly things,

^A he has his eyes dragged upon the earth. Eyes, therefore, are round. The head is placed upon the shoulders, not compressed, so that it may not be low and abject, but is raised on high by the comely height of the neck. There are twin pupils of the eyes. Was one eye not enough, tell me? But two eyes are successors to one another, so that the failure of one may have the comfort of the other. Furthermore, because the power of vision, if it flowed from only one source, would be weaker; but flowing forth from two fountains and joining together, it becomes stronger. For the vision, proceeding from both sides, at once finds rest at the barrier of the nose, and at the same time, as it protrudes, it becomes unified; for just as if a channel were proceeding from each of the eyes, from this side the visual power, and from that side the other, it becomes unified at a distance at the meeting point; and being unified, it becomes stronger. What is the proof that it is unified? Do you not see the old men, that they do not see things nearby? Because, since the visual power is weak when it is split, it does not see things nearby; but where the meeting of the vision occurs, as if on some flood occurring against the sight, the perception of the sensed objects becomes more robust. And how many safeguards are there around the eye! There is a tunic within, but this was not enough; for one could not handle the mass. Or, if it did, it would cover and hinder the power of seeing with its thickness. Therefore, it was necessary that it also be transparent and light. Therefore, one is transparent, another thin; the former is crystalline, the latter is corneal; and the one that protects is stronger, the one that is inside is thinner, so that it might not block the passage, and a third is crystalline, so that it may contain in itself the reflection and the transparency of both. The eyelids are an addition, this covering is a protection, and it is as it were a dwelling and a safeguard. The hand could protect. But while the hand was arriving, the eye would be dimmed. ^B But now the eyelid lies close at hand, which is placed above. And as soon as it perceives the harm, it casts forth the covering. For this reason, the pupil, sitting under a veil, is not always open to injury.

The eye alone of the members in us desires to be untouchable, being covered under the veil of the eyelid. Bristles of hair surround it. Why? So that the interlocking of the upper with the lower eyelid may be more precise. For the hairs are like bonds interlocking with one another; then they also keep the tiny particles of animals from afar, and do not allow the fluffy things to approach the pupil, which is capable of being dimmed from every side. A certain natural protection is placed around us by means of the hairs: at once granting comeliness by the outline, and at the same time providing usefulness. What of the eyebrow? Is it not an aid to you by which you may direct the sight of the eyes more correctly? That which can be confirmed by this argument: When you strive to look at something placed at a distance, why do you place your extended hand above your eyebrows? Is it not so that the vision, which is diffused upward, may not be scattered in vain, but being directed by the projection of the hand and pushed forward, renders the state of the visual power more precise? And the passage of the power of sight is directed by the projection of the hand. For this reason, the eyebrows at once direct the eye, and at the same time, ^C the sweat... ^D

not allow the sweat of our labors to flow down and become an impediment ^A to our vision. It is for this reason that the eyebrows serve as a rampart. What vinedresser can so skillfully fashion a vine, or fence it with an eyebrow, so that it is difficult to approach, or impede the runoff into the adjacent ravines of the fields, as the Lord has fashioned the covering of the brows? He has gladly traced for us, from a single symbol, the ridge that parts to either side of the nose, so that sweat flowing hither and thither provides no distraction to the husbandman, nor does he, while wiping away the sweat, withdraw his hand from the vine; rather, the sweat flows along its own channels, designed of old by the Creator to lead it away toward useless places, and simultaneously the eye performs its own proper task. If we wished to speak of those things for which we are indebted to God, the whole day would fail us. But from this one example, may you grasp the whole concept. As for us, send us forward with your prayers, since we must journey upon a certain necessary path, that, having returned to you in haste and safely, we may pay the remainder of our debt, by the grace of the Lord who has ordered all things regarding us, and who created us by His own grace; for to Him be glory and power, to the ages of ages. Amen.

OF OUR HOLY FATHER GREGORY, BISHOP OF NYSSA, ON THE LIFE OF MOSES, OR ON THE PERFECTION OF A LIFE ACCORDING TO VIRTUE

^BAs those who love to watch the horse races, those who look upon those for whom they feel zeal in the struggle of the course, even though they omit no diligence of spirit toward the ones they wish to see win, yet, anxiously following the course with their eyes, they shout from above and urge them on, thinking that they are inciting the charioteer to a swifter rush, crying out together with the horses and, as if with a lash, stretching out their hands toward them and shaking them; not because they do not know that these things contribute nothing toward the victory, but because their benevolence and zeal toward

^A those who are struggling are signified by their voice and demeanor. I think that I myself am doing something similar regarding you, most prized of friends and brothers, because you are competing well in the divine race upon the stadium of virtue, and are hastening toward the prize of the upward calling with frequent and light leaps. I cry out to you and urge you, and I command you to increase your speed with zeal. I do these things not because I am carried away by some irrational impulse, but because I am complying with the desire of a beloved son. For since the letter which you sent recently expressed this request—that I provide you with some instruction for the perfect life—I thought it fitting to grant it. Even if none of the things I say may be of any other use to you, this thing at least is certainly not useless: acting as an example of obedience for you. For if we, who are placed in the position of fathers over so many souls, have deemed it fitting for ^B this old age to take up the commands of a modest youth, surely obedience will have even greater power in you, since your youth will have been trained to obey our example. But enough of this. For we must begin the discourse we have set before us, with God as our guide and patron. You asked of me, most beloved son, that I describe for you diligently what the perfect life is; and I do not doubt that you wish to learn this so that, once you have found what you seek, you may adapt what you have discovered to your own life. Yet I see two things in this matter, and both seem to me equally impossible. For I must confess that both describing perfection of life by reason and demonstrating in life itself what reason has grasped are beyond my powers; indeed, I suspect that for many who are more excellent in virtue and for men of great stature, these things are difficult to describe—or rather, truly impossible. But lest I appear to fear where there is no fear, as ^C the Psalmist says, I will explain to you what I desire more clearly. Perfection in all other things that are grasped by the senses is distinguished by certain fixed boundaries, as in the case of quantity, both continuous and discrete. For every measure of quantity is enclosed within its own proper limits; and he who looks to the cubit or the number ten knows whence each has its beginning and where it ends, in which its perfection is held. But regarding virtue, we have learned from the Apostle that this is the definition of perfection: to have no definition at all. For that great and high-minded man, the divine Apostle, as he ran through the path of virtue, never ceased from stretching himself toward the things that are before him; for it was not safe for him to cease his running. Why? Because every good by its own nature, in that it is good, has no limit, but is limited only by the juxtaposition ^D of its opposite: as life is compared with death, and light with darkness; and every good, in short, terminates at that which is understood to be its opposite. For just as the end of life is the beginning of death, so the cessation of the course according to virtue is the beginning of the course according to vice. Therefore, the word has not deceived us; it is difficult…

^A to say that the comprehension of perfection is possible regarding virtue; for it has been shown that what is comprised within limits is not virtue.

Since, however, I have also said to those who pursue the life according to virtue that it is impossible to attain the height of perfection, the argument will be clarified regarding this as well. The first and properly good [Being], whose nature is goodness—God, I say, Himself—is and is named whatever in nature is understood to be. Since, therefore, it has been shown that there is no limit to virtue, except for vice, and the Divine is incapable of receiving its opposite, the Divine nature is understood as being without limit and without end. But surely he who pursues true virtue partakes of nothing else than God; for He Himself is the perfect virtue. Since, therefore, the good by nature is entirely desirable to those who know it, and this [good] has no limit, the desire of the one partaking of it, extending itself along with the infinite, has no stopping point. ^B Therefore, it is altogether impossible to reach the culmination of the perfect, because perfection, as has been said, is not contained by limits; and the limit of virtue is that very thing: to be unlimited. How, then, could someone reach the sought-after end, not finding [any] end?

Yet, because the word has shown that what is sought is generally unattainable, we must not for that reason neglect the commandment of the Lord, which says: “Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. v, 48). For in the case of things that are good by nature, even if it is not possible to attain the whole, it would be a great gain to those who have sense not to miss even a part. Therefore, all diligence must be shown so that we do not fall away entirely from the possible perfection; ^C but rather, that we may possess as much of it as we can grasp. For perhaps this is the perfection of human nature: to be always willing to have more in the good.

It seems to me well to use the counsel of Scripture regarding this. For the divine voice says somewhere through the prophecy of Isaiah: “Look to Abraham your father, and to Sarah who bore you” (Isa. LI, 2). For the word surely commands this to those who are wandering outside of virtue, so that, just as those who have been carried off course in the open sea from the direct path to the harbor, once they have seen a sign of their error—either a beacon raised up from a height, or the peak of some promontory revealed—in the same way, those who wander on the sea of life with unguided mind may be steered back again by the example of Sarah and Abraham toward the harbor of the divine will. For since human nature has been divided into female and male, ^D and for both, the choice between virtue and vice is set forth with equal authority, for this reason the appropriate example of virtue was set forth by the divine voice for each part, so that looking towards what is akin to them—the men towards Abraham, and the other part towards Sarah—both might be guided through their own examples toward the life of virtue. Perhaps, therefore, it would be sufficient

^A if we took the life of one approved person as an example, so that it might be like a shining torch set upon a watchtower, ^B showing us how it is possible to cross these waves of life without shipwreck, and not permit our soul, beset by the waves of perturbation, to be swallowed up in the abyss of wickedness, but rather lead it into the most secure harbor of virtue.

For this reason, we must believe that the lives of the most excellent men have been written with such precision, so that, through the imitation of those who have attained success, our own life that follows may be directed towards the good. But someone will say: "How, if I am neither a Chaldean, as Abraham is recorded to have been, nor the ward of the daughter of the Egyptian king, as the narrative holds regarding Moses, nor do I have anything in common with any of the ancients, shall I be able to attain the life of any of them, when I have nothing by which I can imitate a man of such different life and character, and of ages so far removed?" To this we will answer that being a Chaldean, or living in Egypt, or dwelling in Babylon, pertains neither to vice nor to virtue, nor is one for that reason kept far from the straight life of virtue; for nor is God known to the worthy in Judea alone, as of old, nor is Zion, according to the literal sense, the home of the Divine. Rather, we must look more subtly and acutely, so that we may see which Chaldeans or Egyptians the Scripture, through ^C its history, admonishes us to flee, and from what Babylonian captivity, having been liberated, we might at last ascend to the blessed life.

For these reasons, therefore, let that Moses be set forth as an example of life for us in our discourse, whose life if we first run through briefly (as we have learned from the divine books), we shall then search out the sense of the history that is appropriate, by which we shall more easily recognize the perfect life for humans. It is written, therefore, that Moses was born when the law of the tyrant forbade the male infants of the Hebrews to live, having anticipated by grace the entire contribution that time otherwise brings; and immediately from his swaddling clothes, being seen as comely, he caused dread to his parents of having such a one vanish by death. Then, as the threat of the ^D tyrant prevailed, he was not simply cast into the currents of the Nile, but having been placed in a certain ark, the seams of which had been smeared with bitumen and pitch, he was thus committed to the stream (for this is what those who have studied the history of his life have recounted); and with a certain divine power steering the ark, it was brought to shore on a certain bank, with the ark having been cast up by the force of the waves to that particular spot on its own. While the daughter of the king was walking along the meadows of that bank, where the ark had chanced to drift, he was found by the princess, crying out with an infant’s wail in the container; and having been seen with the grace that appeared upon him, he was immediately taken into favor by the princess, and—

^A adopted in the place of a son. Yet, naturally turning away from the foreign breast, by the forethought of one of his own kin he was reared at his mother’s breast. And once he had passed the age of childhood amidst royal nurture and had been instructed in the learning of those outside—which was considered to be of great repute among the outsiders—he no longer chose to acknowledge that "sophisticated" mother by whom he had been adopted in the place of a son, but returned again to his own nature and mingled with his fellow tribesmen. ^B And when a fray broke out between a certain Hebrew and an Egyptian, he took his kinsman’s side and killed the foreigner. Then, when two Hebrews were entangled in a dispute with one another, he tried to calm the contention between them. He advised them to behave well, as they were brothers, and not to make anger the arbiter of their disputes, but nature. Rebuffed by the one who looked toward injustice, he found in this disgrace an occasion for a greater philosophy. Having become far removed from the society of the multitude, he spent his life in solitude thereafter, having joined himself to one of the foreigners—a man observant of what is better, and one who had examined the character and life of men. Having perceived the virtue of the young man from a single action—I mean his aggression against the herdsmen—and how, looking not to any personal gain, he fought for the just side, but rather, judging justice itself to be precious by its own nature, he punished the herdsmen who had wronged nobody toward him; ^C admiring the young man for these things and judging his virtue more precious than the many-talented wealth which was apparent in his poverty, he gave him his daughter in marriage and permitted him to pursue the life he desired according to his own choice.

Now his life was valiant and distinct, freed from all the turbulence of the marketplace, living alone in the desert with the care of sheep. And when a period of time had passed in that form of life, the history says that a fearsome theophany occurred to him, at established midday, when a light other than the sunlight flashed dazzlingly upon his eyes. Struck with wonder at the strangeness of the sight, he looked up toward the mountain and saw a bush, from which the light was ignited in a fiery manner, while the branches of the bush were flourishing as if in dew, though surrounded by the flame. He spoke these words to himself: «I will pass by and see this great sight.» ^D And having said this, he did not receive the wonder of the light with his eyes alone, but—what is most paradoxical of all—even his hearing was illuminated by the rays of that light. For the grace of that light, distributed to both senses, dazzled his eyes with the radiance of its beams, while it enlightened his hearing with immortal doctrines. Thus the voice of that light forbade Moses to approach the mountain while burdened by dead sandals, but commanded him to loosen the sandal from his feet and so touch that earth which was glowing with divine light.

Then, so that I may not be too long in the history—for I think one must not linger too much on the plain history of the man in his words, so as to hold fast to the matters proposed—being strengthened by the theophany that appeared to him, he is ordered to rescue his fellow tribesmen from the slavery of the Egyptians. And that he might learn as much as possible the power being born in him from God, he makes a test by God’s command of the things he had in his hands.

^A Indeed, the test was this: the rod, thrown from his hand, became animated and became a living creature (the creature was a dragon); and again, when taken up by the hand, it became what it was before the transformation into a beast. And the appearance of the hand, when it was once thrust into his bosom, was changed into the whiteness of snow, and again, when it was returned inside, it came back to its own former nature.

As Moses was descending into Egypt, taking with him his foreign wife and the children born to him by her, it is said that an angel met him and brought upon him the fear of death, which the woman easily appeased with the blood of the child's circumcision. Then Aaron, his brother, also divinely prompted, came out to meet him, and a little later the Egyptian people were gathered into a common assembly by both of them, and delivery from slavery was proclaimed to those already worn out by ^B the hardship of their labors; they also spoke with the tyrant himself concerning this matter. Angered by this more than before, he increased the burden of carrying bricks, both for those who were over the works and for the Israelites themselves, and commanded heavier tasks, so that the Jews, afflicted by the gathering of clay, straw, and stubble, might pine away. But Pharaoh (for this was the name of the tyrant of the Egyptians) attempted to resist the divinely performed miracles and signs, and to this end used the prestidigitations of sorcerers. After Moses had transformed his rod into a serpent in the presence of the Egyptians, the sorcerers thought that they would do the same with their own rods. But the effectiveness of the truth refuted their fraud, as the dragon that was transformed from Moses’ rod consumed the magical sticks—that is to say, the snakes—thereby showing that the rods of the sorcerers possessed no defensive or vital power other than the appearance which the sorcery, tricking their eyes, had displayed to those easily deceived.

Then Moses, seeing that the whole subordinate populace was of one mind with the leader of wickedness, brought a common plague upon the entire nation of the Egyptians, sparing no one from the experience of evils. ^C And the very elements of existing things, those seen in the universe—earth, fire, air, and water—were moved along with him in such an assault against the Egyptians, like a disciplined army, changing their operations according to the choice of the people. For by the same power, at the same time and in the same place, the disorderly were punished, while that which was free from wickedness remained unaffected. For when all the nature of the waters in Egypt was turned into blood at Moses’ command, so that even the fish were destroyed by the fleshy thickness of the water, for the Hebrews alone, who were drawing it, the water was clear. Whence sorcery had the opportunity to falsely counterfeit the appearance of blood in the water that was found among the Hebrews.

Likewise, a creeping multitude of frogs appeared in Egypt at once (their generation did not follow any nature-ordained sequence to reach such a number, but the command itself innovated the nature of the animal that appeared at that time for the production of the frogs). ^D The entire Egyptian population was destroyed, being squeezed by these beasts in their own dwellings; but the life of the Hebrews remained untainted by this loathsomeness. Thus, the air made no distinction between day and night for the Egyptians, who continued to feel their way through the same thick darkness, while for the Jews nothing new occurred.

And all the other things happened in the same way: the hail, the fire, the pustules, the gnats, the dog-flies, the cloud of locusts—each of these worked against the Egyptians as is their nature, while the Hebrews knew of the suffering of those who lived among them only through reports and stories, without experiencing any impact of such things themselves. Then the destruction of the firstborn made the distinction between the Hebrew and the Egyptian more precise, as the latter were distraught in their lamentations over the loss of their dearest ones, while the former remained ^A in complete peace and security, their salvation having been secured at every entrance by the sprinkling of blood, as the doorposts and lintels attached to their dwellings were marked with the blood. Upon this, with the Egyptians crushed by the calamity of the firstborn, and each one mourning their own experiences and all of them collectively lamenting their misfortune, Moses leads the Israelites in their departure, having prepared them to carry away the wealth of the Egyptians under the pretext of borrowing it. And when they had traveled for three days outside of Egypt, the history says again that the Egyptians became difficult, regretting that they had not kept Israel in slavery; and having organized their entire subject force along military lines, they pursued the people with their cavalry. When the [Israelites] saw the preparations of horses and arms, being inexperienced in war and unaccustomed to such wonders, they were immediately struck with fear and stood against Moses. At this moment, the history tells the most paradoxical thing about Moses: that he was ^B divided in his actions, on the one hand encouraging the Israelites with his voice and his words and exhorted them to have good hope; but inwardly, in his mind, he was offering supplication to God on behalf of those who were terrified; and he was being guided by counsel from above as to how he might escape the danger, with God Himself (as the history says) heeding the unuttered cry. Now, as the pillar of cloud led the people by divine power, it was not according to common nature (for its composition was not from certain vapors or exhalations, thickened by the vapours of the air through a misty constitution and compressed by the winds), but rather something better and higher than human comprehension. As Scripture testifies, such was the miracle of that cloud: that even when the sun's rays were shining intensely, it served as a barrier for the people, shading what lay beneath it and tempering the heat of the air with a fine dew; and through the night it became fire, providing light for the Israelites from evening ^C until dawn, holding torches with its own glow. Looking toward this himself, and having taught the people to follow what appeared, Moses, when they had come to the Red Sea—with the cloud leading the way and the entire army of the Egyptians encircling the people from behind, so that there was no escape for them anywhere from their dire straits, being hemmed in between the enemy and the water—then Moses, driven by divine power, accomplished what was most incredible of all. For he approached the water at the shore and struck the sea with his rod; and it was split by the blow. And just as it happens upon glass,

Hæc, inquam, nubes, quam veluti ducem Mosis parentes monitis, sequebantur, priore omisso itinere in Rubrum mare ducebat. Devenerunt igitur secuti ducem Hebræi usque ad littus: quos Ægyptii persecuti, undique ita concludunt, ut nulla jam fuga humano consilio posset excogitari. Ante ipsos mare Rubrum erat: post ipsos validissimus atque instructissimus Ægyptiorum exercitus. ^D Tunc res accidit, quæ præ cæteris omnibus fidem excedit: summus ille vir divinitus monitus ad littus descendit, mareque Rubrum virga percussit, et subito ut in vitro facta scissura facile ex altera parte, in alte

^Aand continued the end: thus, throughout that whole sea, when at the very end it had been split by the rod, the division of the sea reached as far as the opposite shore. Then Moses, descending into the deep where the sea had been parted, entered with the whole people through the middle of the sea by a fordable path on dry and illuminated ground, fearing nothing from that sudden construction of walls out of the waves, which stood on high on this side and that like walls made of sides of salty liquid. But when Pharaoh with the Egyptians pursued them into the sea along that new path in the waters, the water of the waves joined together again, and as the sea returned to its former state, a single face of water was created once more, while the Israelites were already resting on the other bank after that long journey through the sea; when they also sang a song of victory to God, who had then raised up for them a bloodless trophy, with the entire army of the Egyptians, their horses, arms, and chariots, having been swallowed by the water. ^B Next, Moses proceeds, and when he had completed a three-day journey on dry land, he is placed in distress, having nothing with which to quench the thirst of the army. For there was a certain lake, around which they had pitched their camp, of sea water, or rather, more bitter than the seas themselves. When, therefore, they were sitting by the water and burning with thirst, Moses, warned by God, casts into the water a piece of wood which he had found in that place. And immediately the wood, by its own virtue, changed the nature of the water from bitterness to sweetness. Moreover, as the cloud moved, they also moved at its motion, always doing this: they would rest where the cloud stood, and that would be the sign of rest; but they would set out again wherever the cloud led them. Following this guide, therefore, they arrive at a place irrigated by potable waters, abundantly supported by twelve springs. There were also ^C seventy palm trees, which, although few in number, were nevertheless wonderful to those who beheld them because of their beauty and height. Again, from there, that cloud, the guide, moved the army to another place. This region, however, was a desert, dry and covered with sand, and not irrigated by any spring of water, where the people were again fatigued by thirst. Moses, however, having struck a certain rock with his rod, caused most abundant and most sweet rivers of water to leap forth. Where, now, with the supply of provisions which they had brought from Egypt failing, and the people being pressed by hunger, a miracle occurs, the most incredible of all: for food did not appear to them from the earth, as is usual, but flowed down from above from heaven like dew. For dew was spread for them around daybreak, ^D which yielded food to those who gathered it: and it was not a watery dripping, as is wont to happen in dew, but instead of drops, crystalline granules bound together in the form of coriander seed, which are called coriander in the rustic tongue, descended in spherical form, the taste of which imitated the sweetness of honey.

^A To this miracle was added another: that although all those who went out to gather it were of different ages and strengths (as was to be expected), none took more or less than another because of any difference in their capability. Rather, what was gathered was measured by the need of each, so that neither did the stronger man possess more, nor was the weaker man deprived of an equal share. Furthermore, the history narrates yet another miracle concerning this: that what each person gathered for the day, nothing of it was put aside for the morrow. And if any, through some parsimony, did store up the food from the day's portion for the next, the stored part was useless for nourishment, being transformed into the nature of worms.

There is yet another thing, paradoxical, in the history of this food. For one of the days of the week, which by a certain mystical reason was honored with cessation, on the day preceding that same day, although the influx of sustenance and the eagerness of the gatherers was the same as the previous times, the amount gathered was found to be double the customary measure, so that they might have no excuse to violate the law of rest due to the necessity of food. In this, the divine power was even more clearly manifested: for while on other days the remainder would spoil, what was gathered on the sole Preparation day (for this is the name of that day of rest) remained uncorrupted, so that it seemed no more stale than what was fresh.

^B Then, a war was stirred up against them by a foreign nation (the account calls those who then rose up against them the Amalekites), and then for the first time the Israelite people were armed for battle; not that the whole army of all of them was moved to the fight, but men chosen for their excellence, the elite among them, took up the war. In this, Moses again demonstrated a novel mode of generalship. For while Joshua, who had taken over the helm of the people after Moses, led the army out against the Amalekites, Moses stood outside the conflict on a certain hilly lookout, ^C looking toward heaven, with two of his intimates standing on either side of him—for we hear of this miracle from the history regarding what was happening: If Moses raised his hands toward heaven, the subjects were strengthened against the enemies; but if he lowered them, the army would give way to the onslaught of the foreigners. The men standing near him, realizing this—that for some hidden cause the hands of Moses had become heavy and difficult to move—stepped in on either side to support them. And because they were too weak to hold him in an upright posture, they placed a stone under him for a seat, and thus by their own efforts they saw to it that Moses raised his hands toward heaven. When this was done, the foreign nation was utterly defeated by the Israelites ^D while, at that same place, the cloud remained which led the way for the journey of the people, and there was no necessity for the people themselves to migrate, as there was no one to lead them in migration. Thus, as the provisions for living were present to them without toil—the air raining bread down to them from above, the rock supplying drink from below, and the cloud again tempering the unpleasantness of the open air, acting as a screen against the heat.

^A With these things thus accomplished, when God wished to instruct both their leader and the people in greater and more hidden mysteries, He commanded the people through Moses to be clean both in body and soul, to such an extent that they were to abstain even from their wives for a certain number of days, and by certain sprinklings washing away stains, so that having laid aside every blemish of soul and body, they might be able to approach Mount Sinai. This mountain, indeed, at that time provided access only to those who used reason, and not to all of these, but only to the men; and not even to all the men, but only to those who had diligently purged every stain from themselves. There was also no small concern for everyone that no beast should be permitted to approach the mountain. It was ordained that if by chance it should happen otherwise, whatever beast appeared near the mountain should be stoned by the people.

^B These things having been arranged, on a clear day the mountain was suddenly surrounded by darkness, and fire, leaping out from the middle of the darkness and consuming the whole tract of the mountain, terrified those who looked upon it, as everything was filled with smoke and gloom. Yet Moses led the people to the mountain, although he himself was also so struck with fear by this sight that he could in no way conceal it from the Israelites; but even by the very movements of his body he revealed that he was moved—for terror was invading souls not only through the eyes, but even through the sense of hearing; for a certain terrifying voice from heaven was bursting forth into all the spaces of the places below, the first impulse of which brought to the ears of anyone the intolerable sound of a trumpet. But it exceeded all terror of such examples, and the further it progressed, the more terrible a sound it emitted; and that voice was articulate. For the air, without vocal organs, by divine power formed not an empty utterance, but a speech signifying divine things, and it was setting forth laws and ordinances to the people. ^C When the people could not bear all these things, they obtained from Moses that the law should be handed down to them from God, with him as mediator, asserting that they would not retract anything, but would believe all things just as they were handed down to them by God Himself through Moses. Thus, the people indeed retreated to the places below the mountain. Moses, however, being left alone on the mountain, was affected differently than other men are accustomed to be. For while all others are more distressed when left alone, and fear less in company, he, being left alone, became bolder. Whence it was evident that he had not been terrified at the beginning as some timid man might be, but had been moved by the love of the fearing people. Therefore, when he had laid aside the fear of the people as if it were a burden, and had become master of himself, then he even entered boldly into the darkness itself. And so he moves among invisible things, and no longer appears to those who are looking on. For divine...

initiation, he was there with the Invisible, not being seen—teaching, I think, by what he did, that one who is to be with God must go out from everything that is seen, and lift his own mind, as if to a mountaintop, to that which is invisible and incomprehensible, and there believe that the Divine exists, where understanding cannot reach.

Being in that place, he receives the divine commandments. These were the instruction in virtue, the head of which is piety, that is to say, having fitting opinions about the divine nature, ^B since it transcends every cognitive thought and representation, being similar to nothing that is known. For He commands that one should look to nothing of the things grasped in human conceptions of God, nor consider the nature that is above all things to be similar to those things known by apprehension; but one should believe that It exists, while leaving the "what," or "how much," or "whence," or "how" it is, unexamined, as it is unattainable.

The discourse also adds whatever pertains to the successes of character, making the instruction in general and specific laws. For in general, the law is the destroyer of every injustice; it is the necessity to behave lovingly toward one's own kind, which, once established, it necessarily follows that one should do no evil to anyone against one's neighbor. In specific matters, however, it enjoins honoring one’s parents, and guarding against the sins that are diligently enumerated. Being, as it were, instructed by these laws, he passes on to more sublime mysteries, a tabernacle having been suddenly displayed to him by divine power. The tabernacle was a temple, possessing beauty in an inexplicable variety: propylaea, pillars, curtains, a table, a lampstand, a censer, an altar, a propitiatory, and that which is within the holy of holies, inaccessible and unapproachable. ^C The beauty and arrangement of all these things, partly so that it might not escape his memory, and partly that the miracle might be revealed to those below, he is counseled not to hand down by mere drawing, but to imitate that immaterial creation through material construction, taking up the more brilliant and lustrous materials found on earth.

In these, there was much gold poured around the pillars; but silver was joined with the gold, adorning the tops and bases of the pillars by itself; so that, I think, with the differing color on either side, the gold would appear as it were more brilliant. But the material of bronze was also deemed useful, becoming the head and base for the silver of the columns. The curtains and veils, and the enclosure of the temple, and that which is over the pillars ^D was poured with gold, and with the gold, silver ornamented their tops and bases, so that by the variety of color, as I believe, they might shine more brightly. But the material of bronze also appeared not useless; for the heads and bases of the columns were made of bronze. The curtains moreover and the tents, and the enclosure of the whole temple, and the roof extended over the columns, were all fashioned through the weaving art, with the material appropriately assigned to each. Some had a dye of hyacinth and purple, and

^A the incandescent splendor of the scarlet dye—the bright aspect of the fine linen, its natural and artless appearance. For others, linen was taken, and for others, hair, to suit the needs of the weaving. And there were places where the red skins were suitable for the beauty of the construction. These things, indeed, Moses fashioned through those who served him according to the model of creation ^B set forth to him, after his descent from the mountain. But then, when he was in that temple not made with hands, and was receiving the laws regarding the vestments with which the priest must be adorned when he was to enter the inner sanctum of the Temple—both the inner garment and the outer—the discourse begins appropriately not from the inner, but from the outer. The ephods were variegated with different dyes, from those same materials of which the veil was constructed, and having for the most part threads of gold. Clasps on either side held the ephods together, binding ^C emeralds in a circle with gold. The beauty of these stones was, on the one hand, from their nature, flashing forth certain greenish rays, and on the other, from the art, the wonder of the carvings. The art did not carve into them the likeness of any idols, but the names of the patriarchs were engraved upon the stones, one by one, and this became their ornament. The gold shields suspended from these on the front part, and the intertwined chains, alternating by rhythm in a net-like fashion, suspended from the clasp on either side above the shields, were so, I suppose, that the beauty of the weave might shine forth more brightly, ^D illuminated by what lay beneath it. There was also that gold-wrought ornament of the breast, on which were certain stones of different types, equal in number to the patriarchs, set in four rows, with three in each, showing by letters the names of the tribes upon them. There was the tunic inside the ephods, reaching from the neck to the feet, appropriately adorned with the hanging ornaments. The lower hem was adorned not only by the variety of the weave, but also was most beautiful with golden appendages. These were golden bells and pomegranates that surrounded the aforementioned hem in turn. There was also the headband for the head, entirely of hyacinth, and the leaf on the forehead, of pure gold, engraved with a certain ineffable character. There was also the belt, which girded the flowing garment, and the ornament of the hidden things, and all those things which, through enigmas in the form of clothing, teach about priestly virtue. Since he had been instructed in these things by being enveloped in that invisible cloud, in the ineffable teaching of God, and had become greater than himself by the addition of the mystical teachings, thus emerging from the cloud again, he descends to his own kin, to share with them the things shown to him in the theophany, and to lay down the laws...

the tabernacle, and the priesthood, establishing them for the people according to the archetype shown to him upon the mountain. ^A He also brought the sacred tablets in his hands, which were a divine discovery and gift, needing no human cooperation for their making; rather, both the material and the characters inscribed upon it were equally the work of God. But the people thwarted this grace by breaking out into idolatry before the lawgiver had arrived.

For since a not inconsiderable time had passed for Moses while he was occupied with the communion with God through that divine mystical initiation, and for forty days and as many nights he was participating in that eternal life beneath the cloud, having moved outside his own nature (for he did not, during that time, require food for his body)—then, just like a child who finds itself outside the view of its tutor, the people were carried away by irrational impulses into disorder and, gathering against Aaron, forced the priest to lead them in idolatry. ^B And when the idol was made from the gold as its material (the idol was a calf), some gloried in the impiety. But Moses, having by then arrived among them, shattered the tablets which he was bringing from God, so that they might suffer a punishment worthy of their offense, being deprived of the grace that receives God. Then, having cleansed the defilement with the blood of their kinsmen through the Levites, and having rendered the Divine favorable through his own anger against those who had transgressed, he then caused the idol to disappear; thus, again, through the persistence of forty days, he obtained the tablets, which Scripture says were from divine power, but the material was fashioned by the hand of Moses. He receives these again, having traversed human nature in that great number of days and living in a way other than the one customary to us, having admitted into his own body none of those things which support our nature through food.

And thus he set up the tabernacle for them and presented the legal requirements, having established the priesthood according to the instruction given to him from God. ^C And when he had prepared everything according to the divine instruction through material craftsmanship—the tabernacle, the propylaea, all the things within, the incense burners, the altar, the lampstand, the hangings, the mercy seat inside the holy of holies, the priestly vestments, the oil, the various sacred rites, the purifications, the thank-offerings, the averters of evils, the propitiations for those who had sinned—after he had set everything in order among them in the due manner, he stirred up in those around him envy, that disease congenital to human nature. So much so that Aaron, who had been honored with the dignities of the priesthood, and his sister Miriam, stirred by a certain womanly jealousy toward the honor conferred upon him by God, spoke something upon which the Divine was moved to the punishment of the transgression. ^D Here, indeed, it is worthy to admire Moses all the more for his long-suffering, in that while God was punishing the irrational malice of the woman, he, having made his own nature stronger than anger, propitiated God on behalf of his sister.

When the multitude again turned to disorder (for the lack of restraint regarding the pleasures of the belly was the leader of the transgression, for whom it was not enough to live healthily and without pain from the food flowing down from above; but the desire of the flesh and the craving for meat made the slavery in Egypt more desirable than the goods present to them), he communicates the matter to God.

^A God, however, educates them, showing that it ought not to be so, by giving them what they craved: a multitude of birds, flying close to the ground, which He let fall upon the camp like a cloud; and as they flew in flocks, the ease of the hunt led them on to indulge their desire for meat to the point of gluttony. Undue excess in eating suddenly altered the state of their bodies into corrupting humors, and their satiety ended in disease and death—a pattern for them, and for those who look upon them, sufficient for temperance. Then spies were sent out by him into that land which, according to the divine promise, was in their hopes as a place of habitation. But since not all of them reported the truth, and some brought back false and gloomy accounts, the people again became angry with Moses. ^B And God condemned those who had despaired of the divine assistance, so that they would not see the land promised to them. As they proceeded through the desert, water again failed them, and with it their memory of the power of God also faded. For they did not believe that even now their need would be met, by the miracle previously wrought at the rock; but abandoning their better hopes, they proceeded to revile God Himself and Moses, so much so that even Moses appeared to stumble at the unbelief of the people, although he was granted by God to work a miracle again, changing that sheer rock into a nature of flowing waters.

And when again their servile pleasure for food stirred up the desire of gluttony, and despite lacking none of the necessities of life, they dreamed of the Egyptian plenty—like the most unruly among the youth, they were disciplined by sharper lashes, for serpents were sent against them throughout the camp, dealing death with their bite. ^C But as the deaths from the beasts were happening in succession, the lawgiver, spurred by divine counsel, poured bronze into the form of a serpent and set it upon a height, to be visible to the entire camp; and thus he stayed the destruction from the beasts among the people. For he who looked upon the image of the serpent in the bronze, feared not the bite of the true and literal serpent, for a certain ineffable antipathy of the sight weakened the venom.

Again, when a revolt concerning the leadership arose from the people, and certain ones were forcing themselves to take the priesthood upon themselves, Moses indeed acted as an intercessor for those who were sinning; but the justice of God's judgment was stronger than Moses' compassion for his own kin. For the earth, parting by divine will, closed again upon itself, swallowing up the whole gathering of those who had risen up against the authority of Moses. ^D Those, however, who had raged for the priesthood, about two hundred and fifty of them, were consumed by fire, and by their own suffering restored their kin to a sound mind. But so that the people might be the more persuaded that the grace of the priesthood comes to those counted worthy from God, rods were taken from those leading each tribe, each one marked with the letters of the one who had given it, among which was that of Aaron the priest. Moses placed these in the temple, and on the following day revealed to all the verdict of God concerning the priesthood. For alone of all, the rod of Aaron sprouted, and it produced and perfected the fruit of the wood (the fruit was a nut). This was deemed the greatest miracle even to the faithless: how the dried and smoothed wood, and without...

^A earth, or bark, or moisture, or root, or branches of the divine power, became in the wood. Following these events, while leading his army through foreign nations, he made it a strict rule for his people to leave their fields and vineyards unmolested, and to keep to the royal road, turning neither to the right nor to the left. But when the enemies would not even then keep the peace, he overcame his opponent in battle and gained control of the crossing.

Then Balak, having the leadership of a greater nation (the Midianites is the name of this nation), being terrified at the plight of those who had previously perished, and expecting that he would soon suffer the same at the hands of the Israelites, sought as an ally, not any leaders of arms or troops, but a certain Balaam, a sorcerer who had a reputation for these things, and was believed by those who consulted him to possess power for such enterprises. His art was augury, and through some cooperation of demons he was malicious, bringing unspeakable things upon men by some more curious power. Following those who were leading him to the king of the nation, he was instructed by the voice of the donkey that the way was not auspicious for him. Then, having learned through a certain manifestation what was to be done, he found those evil sorceries to be weaker than causing any harm to those who were assisted by God. Instead of the activity of the demons, becoming inspired by divine breath, he uttered such words that they were clearly a prophecy of things that would befall for the better in the future. For by those means through which he was prevented from working evil with his art, by those same means, having come into a sense of the divine power, he left divination aside and acts as a prophet for the divine will.

And following these events, the nation of the foreigners is crushed, the people having proved more powerful in war; but having been defeated after this by the passion of licentiousness among the captives, when Phinehas, having struck down those who were entangled in dishonor with one blow, caused the anger of God against those who had raged in unlawful unions to cease. Then the Lawgiver, having ascended a high mountain and observed from afar the land which had been prepared for Israel through the divine promise made to the fathers, departs from human life, leaving behind no token or memorial of his departure upon the earth in graves. ^B Time did not damage his beauty, nor did it dim the brilliance of his eyes, nor blunt the grace radiating from his face; but he was always the same, preserving in the mutable nature of his body that which is immutable in beauty.

These, then, are the things we learned from the summary history of the man, which we have recounted in passing; although the subject matter is, in parts of it, something that we had to expand upon. Now it would be the time to apply what has been recorded of his life to the purpose of the discourse we have set before us, so that one might receive from the things said beforehand a contribution toward the life of virtue. Let us therefore resume the beginning of the narrative about him.

MYSTICAL INTERPRETATION OF THE LIFE OF MOSES

^A When the tyrant’s law decreed that the male offspring of the Jews should be put to death, then Moses is born. How then, someone might ask, shall we imitate that birth of the man which occurred by chance, when such a law had been enacted by the tyrant just at that time when Moses was being carried in his mother's womb? For it is surely not even in a person’s power, whenever he wishes, to be born. But this is the literal sense of the history, which, if it is to be adapted to morality, must be understood more profoundly. Therefore, all things that are set in change and flux never remain firm, but one thing is always generated from another, and the outcome is always either for the better or for the worse, according to the energy of that change. Now, in human beings, this carnal frame, full of passions—which gives pleasure to the tyrant and enemy of the human race, and which he therefore cherishes and grants life—is represented by the female sex. But the male birth, hostile and suspect to the tyrant lest it stir up seditions in his kingdom, signifies rigid and strong virtue. Human life is always subject to change; wherefore, since it is neither eternal nor immutable, it must always be being born. But to be born in this way does not come from an external impulse, not from without, as in bodily birth, but each one is born by his own choice; whence it comes to pass that we are in a certain sense our own fathers, begetting ourselves such as we wish to be by our choice, and fashioning ourselves either as male or female according to the principle of vice or virtue. Therefore, it is permitted to us, indeed, when we hear how great is the grief with which our enemy is afflicted by the birth of male offspring—that is, by the birth of a man endowed with virtue—it is permitted, I say, for us to beget ourselves as males and to bring pleasure to our parents—that is, to the good thoughts which beget virtue; for the thought of virtue is joyful. And this pleasure easily causes us to persevere in virtue, and to live even in opposition to tyrannical laws and institutions. Therefore, the truth of the history teaches us through this enigma to strive with all diligence in this birth which is within us, to be born in such a way that our birth is displeasing to our enemy; for no one brings grief to an enemy unless he shows those signs by which the enemy can recognize himself to be defeated. It belongs to that same will both to beget this masculine and virtuous offspring and to nourish it with the appropriate food, and to provide how it may be saved in the waters. For those who hand over their offspring to be killed by the tyrant, these are the ones who expose their naked children to the waves. By the wave of the waters, I mean this life, in which many are overwhelmed by alternating passions. ^B But truly, chaste and provident thoughts, the parents of the masculine birth, if at any time they are compelled by the necessity of life to expose their good pledges to the floods of this life, ^{C D}

those which fall into the stream, are submerged and suffocated. But prudent and thoughtful minds, the fathers of a courageous progeny, whenever the necessity of life compels them to bring their good offspring down to the waves of this life, provide for its safety with an ark, so that he who is committed to the stream may not be swallowed up. An ark, one might say, is that which is joined together from various planks—that is, education composed of diverse branches of learning, which stays afloat above the waves and supports the one borne upon it through life. Being such, he will not long be led astray by the surge of the waters, carried along by the violence of the waves; but rather, by the steadiness of the bank—that is, by being outside the surge of worldly life—he will be pushed automatically by the force of the waters toward solid ground. ^A This is something which we also learn by experience: that even those who are not yet sinking into human deceits are, by the very unstable and turbulent movement of circumstances, pushed away of their own accord, as if they were some useless weight, by those who are distressed by the way of virtue. But he who manages to get outside such things should imitate Moses and not spare his tears, even if he happens to be secured within an ark. For the tear is a faithful guardian of those who are saved by virtue. ^B And if the king’s daughter, being barren and sterile (who, I believe, typifies secular philosophy), having adopted the child, should manage to be called the mother of such an one, the Word permits a man to acknowledge his relationship to this false mother only so long as he sees the imperfection of his own age within himself. But he who has already advanced toward the heights, as we learned regarding Moses, will consider it a shame to be called the child of one who is by nature barren. For secular education is truly barren, always in labor yet never bringing forth anything alive. For what fruit of its long labor pains has philosophy shown that is worthy of such great and such strenuous efforts? Are not all its products wind-borne and fruitless, miscarried before they can come into the light of the knowledge of God? Perhaps they might have become human beings, had they not been hidden away entirely in the bosom of this barren wisdom. ^C Therefore, one should associate with the queen of the Egyptians only so much as is necessary, so as not to appear devoid of the erudition practiced by them, and then hasten back to his own natural mother, from whom he had not even been parted while nourished by the queen, being suckled with his mother's milk, as the history says. This, it seems to me, teaches us that if we converse with secular discourses during our time of education, we must not be separated from the milk of the Church that nourishes us. That is to say, we must learn and observe the customary laws and mores of the Church, by which the soul is fed and grows strong, and from which it receives the motives for its ascent to the heights. The Word also truly says that he will be placed between two enemies, the one who looks toward secular teachings and not toward those of the patriarchs. For the alien to our religion resists the Hebrew logic, striving to appear stronger than the Israelite. And to many of the more superficial people, such a one has seemed to be this: one who has abandoned the faith of his fathers and fought alongside the enemy, becoming a transgressor of the ancestral teaching. ^D However, he who, like Moses, is great and noble in soul, proves this one—who is raised up by the word of piety—to be dead by the blow he deals him. And one may find this kind of battle in us in another way as well. For the human being is set like some prize of the contest for those who struggle from the opposite side, and to those...