OF OUR HOLY FATHER GREGORY, BISHOP OF NYSSA, THE TREATISE ON THE SOUL AND THE RESURRECTION, WHICH IS CALLED THE MACRINIA
OF OUR HOLY FATHER GREGORY, BISHOP OF NYSSA, DIALOGUE ON THE SOUL AND RESURRECTION, WHICH IS TITLED MACRINIA
(We have collated the text with the edition of Joannes Georgius Krabinger, published at Landshut, 1840, in 8vo. Editor.)
When that great figure among the saints, Basil, had migrated from human life to God, and had become a common cause of mourning for the Churches, and while his sister, who was also A my teacher in the life of virtue, was still surviving, I set out with all haste, in order that I might share with her in the calamity that had been received through the death of our brother. My own soul was fiercely anxious and consumed with grief at the acceptance of such a great loss, and I was looking for some companion in my tears who might take upon himself an equally great burden of distress. But when we came into each other’s presence, the sight of my teacher refreshed the sorrow of my spirit: for she herself was already caught in the grip of a mortal illness. B Yet she, just as those skilled in the art of horsemanship are accustomed to do, after she had permitted me for a short time to be carried away by the impetus of my grief, attempted afterwards to restrain me and to bring me to my senses by her discourse, as if by a bridle, correcting the disorder of my soul with her own reason, and she was
A applying that apostolic saying, that one ought not to be grieved for those who have fallen asleep; for this suffering belongs only to those who have no hope.
G. And I, as my heart was still seething and burning on every side with grief, said: "How is it possible, I pray, for this to be accomplished among men, seeing that there is in every one of us a certain natural calumny and complaint against death, and since not even those who witness the dying can easily bear the sight, and those to whom death approaches flee from it as much as they are able? And indeed, seeing that those who hold the laws judge this to be the ultimate injustice and the ultimate punishment, what device is there to cause one to esteem as nothing the departure from living, B and this in the case of those who are strangers, to say nothing of those who are dear, when they reach the end of life? For we see," said I, "that every human endeavor looks toward this, that we might remain in life. For it is for this reason that houses have been devised by us for our habitation, so that our bodies might not be distressed by the surrounding air through cold or heat. And what is agriculture other than the apparatus and support of life? Indeed, the care and concern for life is entirely motivated by the fear of death. And from whence does medicine possess its honor among men? Is it not because it seems, through its art, to contend in some way against death? And breastplates, and shields, and greaves, and helmets, and the defensive weapons of war, and the surrounding of cities with walls, and iron-bound gates, and the security of trenches, and such like things—what else are they but the result of the fear of death? Since then death is naturally so fearful, C how is it possible to be easily persuaded by one who commands us to remain without grief
M. But tell me, asks the teacher, for what reason precisely does the fundamental necessity of death itself seem to you harsh and grievous? For the custom of those who use reason less is not enough for accusation and complaint. — G. For what indeed, I said in reply to her, is not worthy of grief, when we see him who but a moment ago was living and speaking, suddenly become breathless, speechless, and motionless, and all his natural sensory organs extinguished; when neither sight nor hearing nor any other faculty by which perception is apprehended functions or performs its office? To whom, whether you bring fire or iron, or cut the body with a sword, or expose it to flesh-eating beasts, or bury it in the earth, the one lying there remains alike indifferent to all these things. B Since therefore the change seems to consist in these things, and that vital cause—whatever in the world it was—is suddenly withdrawn from sight and extinguished, and it is uncertain where it has gone or even where it lies hidden, just as happens with an extinguished lamp, when the flame that was just now burning upon it neither remains on the wick, nor moves elsewhere, but passes away into complete disappearance—how could anyone endure such a change without grief, C when it is supported by nothing certain? For hearing of the departure of the soul, we see that which is left behind, but we are ignorant of that which has been separated, both what it is by nature and into what it has migrated. It does not show itself in earth, nor air, nor water, nor any other element, carrying that power which has departed from the body; upon the withdrawal of which, that which remains is a corpse and already exposed to corruption.
[G.] When I had said this, my teacher, having meanwhile imposed silence with her hand, asked: — M. Does a fear of this kind, she said, disturb you and trouble your mind, as if the soul does not always remain, but ceases to be as well along with the dissolution of the body? — G. I, however (for I had not yet collected my reasoning from the sickness and disturbance), answered somewhat too boldly and, in a way, too recklessly, not considering very much what was being said. For I said that the divine utterances were like commands and edicts, by which we are indeed compelled to believe that it is necessary for the soul to remain in perpetuity, but that we are not led to such an opinion by any reasoning. But our mind seems to us to approve from within, in a servile manner, what is commanded out of fear, and not to assent to what is said by any voluntary impulse. B Whence it also happens that we grieve more heavily at the mention of the dead, because we do not know fully and exactly whether this life-giving cause still exists by itself, and where, and how, or whether it exists nowhere in any way. For the uncertainty of what is truly real makes opinions equal in both directions. And to many this seems to be the case, while to many the contrary seems true: and indeed there are some among the Greeks who have no small reputation for philosophy, who have both thought and declared these things. — M. Let be, she said, the follies of outsiders, in which the inventor of falsehood composes plausible but false opinions C to the detriment of the truth; but do you look to this, that to hold such an opinion about the soul is nothing else than to be alien to virtue, and to look only at what is sweet and pleasant in the present, while despairing of the life that is contemplated in the infinite ages, through which alone virtue excels and is supreme. — G. And how, I said, could the opinion about the soul persisting become for us firm and immovable;
A for I myself also feel that human life would be bereft of the most beautiful thing of all (I speak of virtue) if there were not a firm and undoubted faith in this matter established within us. For how can virtue have any place in those who are persuaded that existence is circumscribed by the present life, and hope for nothing more after it? — M. Therefore, said the teacher, we must seek from where our discourse might derive a suitable and fitting principle for this question. And, if it pleases you, let the support and defense of the contrary opinions and sentiments be undertaken by you. (For I see that your mind is also stirred, and desires that these roles be assigned to you.) Then, in this way, after the opposition, the argument of the truth will be sought. — G. Having agreed to do so, I begged her B not to think that the things I would say in opposition were spoken against the truth, but rather to believe they were for the sake of firmly establishing the doctrine concerning the soul, once the objections opposed to this aim had been weakened. But that she might receive them not as a true contradiction, but in a serious manner, for the sake of the intention of the resolution.
Would they not say, I asked, those who defend the contrary opinion, that the body, since it is composite, is necessarily dissolved into the elements of which it consists? And when that coherence and union of the elements in the body is dissolved, each part, as is natural, is borne and inclines toward its own, the very nature of the elements by a certain necessary attraction C returning its own to that which is of the same kind. For that which is hot in us will again be united with the hot, the earthy with what is solid and hard, and each of the rest will return and withdraw to its kindred element. Where, then, will the soul be after this? For if anyone should say that it is in the elements, he must necessarily concede and agree that it is one and the same with them. For no mixture could occur of something of a different nature with something foreign to it, and if this were so, it would certainly appear to be a diverse thing, as one mixed with contrary qualities; but being diverse is not being simple, D but is altogether seen to be in composition. But everything that is composite is also by necessity dissolvable, and dissolution is the destruction of that which is composed.
A For if it is something else beside these, where does reason posit it to be? Since it is not found in the elements, because it is of a different and alien nature, and there is nothing else in the world in which the soul, living conveniently and accommodatingly to its own nature, could exist. But that which is nowhere, does not exist at all.
B M. And the teacher, having sighed a little at what had been said, "Perhaps," she says, "such things as these, and others like them, the Stoics and Epicureans, meeting together in Athens, once brought forward against the Apostle. For I hear that Epicurus, more than anyone, was swayed and inclined toward these opinions: that the nature of existing things came to be by a certain chance and fortuitous collision of its own accord, as if no providence ran through and permeated through all things. And for this reason, logically, he also thought human life to be like a bubble, with our body inflated by some spirit, existing only so long as that spirit is held and constrained by the air by which it is contained. But as soon as that swelling has collapsed and is dissolved, that which was held and intercepted within is extinguished. For the boundary of the nature of things for him was that which appears, and he believed that sense was the measure of the comprehension of the universe; and since he had the vessels and instruments of the soul’s senses utterly closed and dull, and was unable to look toward any of the intelligible and incorporeal things, as one who is imprisoned in a little house remains C unable to behold the heavenly wonders, hindered by walls and roof from the sight of things outside. For the things perceptible to the senses are strictly like earthen walls, all those things that are seen in the universe, which, through themselves, lead those who are of a more petty soul away from the contemplation of the intelligible.
A Such a man sees only the earth, and water, and air, and fire; but he is unable, because of his pettiness of soul, to discern whence each of these is, or in what it is, or by what it is held together. A man who sees a garment reflects upon the weaver, and through the ship he perceives the shipwright; the hand of the builder, too, once the building is seen, immediately comes into the minds of the observers. But those who look at the world are dim-sighted regarding the One who is made manifest through these things; hence, those clever and sharp arguments are brought forth by those who decree the destruction and abolition of the soul: that the body is from the elements, and the elements are from the body, and that the soul cannot exist by itself, if it is neither one of these nor in these. B For if the opponents think that the soul is nowhere because it is not of the same nature as the elements, let them, first of all, also decree that the life which is in the flesh is lifeless. For the body is nothing else but a concurrence of elements; let them not claim, therefore, that the soul is even in these, quickening the composite by itself; for if it is not possible, as they think, for the soul to exist while the elements exist, they demonstrate nothing other than that our life is dead. But if they do not doubt that the soul is now in the body, how can they decree the destruction of the soul into the elements when the body is dissolved, and then dare to utter the same things C against the Divine nature? For how will they say that the intellectual, incorporeal, and invisible nature—the nature perceived only by the mind—which penetrates into moist, soft, hard, and hot things, keeps all existing things in being, if it is neither known to be of the same genus as those things in which it is, nor is able to be in them because it is of another and different genus? Therefore, from their doctrine, even that very Divine Power by which things are held together must be utterly removed. D “But,” said I, “how can this very thing become indubitable to those who speak against it: that all things are from God, and that all existing things are held together in Him, or even that there is, in general, any Divine Nature superior to the nature of existing things?”
[M.] Atilla, A “It would be more fitting,” he says, “to keep silent on such matters and not deign to answer foolish and impious propositions; for even a divine word forbids answering a fool according to his folly. Now, the foolish and senseless man, as the Prophet says, is absolutely he who says there is no God. But since it is necessary to speak on these things as well, I shall tell you a reason,” he says, “not mine, nor any other man’s—for this is meager, whatever it may be—but that which the creation of existing things explains and narrates through the miracles in B it, of which creation the eye is the hearer, through the things that appear, while a wise and masterful discourse echoes in the heart. For the creation proclaims the Maker aloud, as the Prophet says, the heavens themselves telling the glory of God with ineffable voices. For who, seeing the harmony of the whole universe, of both the heavenly and earthly miracles, and how the elements, though contrary in nature to one another, are interwoven towards the same end by some ineffable bond of communion, each contributing its own power to the preservation of the whole; and how they neither separate from one another, being immutable and uncommingling according to the property of their qualities, nor are destroyed when mixed together by contrary qualities, but rather, even those whose nature it is to move upward are carried downward, as the heat of the sun flows down through its rays; and heavy and ponderous bodies are lightened, being attenuated by vapors, so that even water, contrary to its nature, is carried upward, being borne in the air upon currents, and the ethereal fire becomes earthly, so that even the depths are not devoid of heat, and the moisture from the rains, being one in nature, when poured over the earth, produces infinite varieties of vegetation, being implanted appropriately to all the underlying subjects; and the most rapid revolution of the pole and of C
A the circular rotation, and the motion of the internal circles in the opposite direction, and the retardations and conjunctions, and the harmonious distances of the stars—if anyone beholds these with the intellectual eye of the soul, is he not clearly taught by the visible phenomena that a divine, artificial, and wise power is manifested in the things that exist, and, penetrating through all things, harmonizes the parts with the whole, and completes the whole in the parts, and that the universe is held together by some one power, remaining in itself [and moving around itself], and neither ceasing at any time from its motion, nor migrating to any other place than that in which it is?
G. And how, I said, does the belief that God exists also demonstrate that the human soul exists? For the soul is surely not the same thing as God, so that if the one is admitted, the other must necessarily also be admitted.
M. She replied: It is said, she says, by the wise that man is a little world, containing within himself those elements with which the universe is completed. B And if this argument is true (as it seems to be), perhaps we would not need other assistance to confirm the opinion we have conceived concerning the soul. We believe that it possesses its existence by its own proper, peculiar, and excellent nature, different and other than the body which consists of coarse parts. For just as we know the whole world through the assistance of the senses, and through this very action and efficiency of our senses we are led to the consideration and concept of a thing that surpasses sense and intellect, and the eye becomes for us an interpreter of the almighty wisdom, which is indeed seen in the universe, and which, through itself, indicates the One who alone comprehends and embraces all things on every side; C so also, while we gaze upon the world that is in us, we have no small resources for arriving by conjecture, through visible things, even at that which is hidden. Now, that which is hidden and concealed in itself is that which is perceived by mind and intelligence, and is devoid of form, and which escapes the perception of the senses.
G. And I said: But truly, the wisdom which is in the upper parts, as if in the citadel of things D
A existing in this harmony and arrangement, it is possible to infer; but what, for those who search out the hidden from the manifest, could be the knowledge of the soul by means of those things shown in the body? M. And most certainly, said the virgin, for those who desire to know themselves, according to that wise commandment, even if the soul itself is its own teacher regarding the assumptions about it, that it is a certain immaterial and incorporeal thing, acting and moving suitably to its own nature, and manifesting its own motions through the bodily organs. For this organic arrangement of the body is nonetheless present even in those who have succumbed to death, but it remains motionless and inactive, the psychic power not being in it. It is moved, however, when both B the sense is in the organs, and through the sense the intelligible power passes through, moving with its own impulses the organic sensory faculties toward that which seems proper. G. What then, I said, is the soul? If it is possible to describe its nature by some account, so that there might be for us some understanding of the underlying thing through the description. And the teacher, M. Others, she said, have declared the account concerning it in other ways, defining it according to what each thinks, but our opinion concerning it is as follows: The soul is a created essence, a living, intellectual essence, introducing through itself a vital power and a power of perceiving sensible things to an organic and sensitive body, as long as the nature capable of these things has subsisted. And saying these things, she points with her hand to the physician who was sitting C by her for the treatment of the body, and says: The testimony of the things said is close at hand for us. For how, she said, does this man, having applied the touch of his fingers to the artery, hear in a certain way through the sense of touch the nature crying out to him and recounting its own afflictions, that the malady is in an intensification in the body, and from these internal organs the disease has originated, and to such an extent the heightening of the inflammation extends? And he is taught also by the eye other such things, looking both at the shape of the reclining person, and at the wasting away of the flesh. And as he marks the inward disposition, both the kind of color, being somewhat pale and bilious, and the glance of the eyes D automatically inclining toward the things that are distressing and painful. Likewise also, the sense of hearing becomes a teacher of similar things, recognizing the affliction by the density of the breathing, and by the sighing emitted with the breath. One might even say that the sense of smell of the expert is not unobservant of the affliction, but through the quality of the specific scent, recognizes what is hidden in the internal organs.
A Could these things be possible, if some power that is discerned by the mind and falls under the understanding were not present to each of the sensory instruments? What could the hand have taught us by itself, unless the thought of the mind and the intelligence guided the touch to the knowledge of the subject matter? Or what would the hearing, or the eye, or the nose, or any other sensory instrument separated from the mind, aid in the knowledge of the thing sought, if each of these existed by itself alone? But of all things this is most true, and it is recorded that a certain man, who was learned in external literature and disciplines, spoke excellently and rightly, that it is the mind that sees, and the mind that hears. For if one does not grant this to be true, tell me, when you look upon the sun, as you were taught by your teacher to look, why do you say that it is not as large as it appears to the masses, but that by the magnitude of its orb it surpasses the whole earth by many parts? Is it not because, having followed with your mind the demonstrations of its motion, and the distances and intervals of time and place, and the causes of eclipses through the phenomena, you confidently declare and judge that things are thus? B Indeed, also when you see the waning and waxing of the moon, you learn other things through the figure which appears in the element, namely, that the moon is by its own nature devoid of splendor and moves and wanders in an orbit nearest to the earth; but that it receives light and splendor from the rays of the sun, C just as naturally happens in mirrors, which, when they receive the sun into themselves, do not return their own splendors, but that of the solar light, which light is reflected and reverberated in the opposite direction from a smooth, hairless, and shining body. Those who gaze at this matter without investigation and judgment think that the splendor exists from the moon itself. But that it is not so, is demonstrated from the fact that, when it is diametrically opposite to the sun, it is illuminated over the whole orb which looks toward us; but in its shorter and more confined place, in the circle in which it D moves, having traversed it more quickly, before the sun has traveled its own course once, it itself traverses its own circle more than twelve times. Therefore, it happens that not always is it full
A of light; for the position in the dense part of the orbit that is continuously facing the sun does not remain—the position which makes the whole portion of the moon toward us illuminated by the sun's rays—but so, when it comes to the sides of the sun, which is always in relation to it, the hemisphere of the moon being intercepted by the surrounding rays, that which is toward us is necessarily cast into shadow, the brightness being shifted away from the part that cannot face the sun toward that which is always becoming so in relation to it, B until, having descended in a straight line behind the solar circle, it receives the ray, and thus, with the hemisphere from above being illuminated, it makes the part toward us invisible—that being, in its own nature, totally dark and lightless—which is indeed called the complete diminution of the element. But if it should again pass the sun according to the motion of its own course, and should come to the side of the ray, that which a little before was dark begins to shine from beneath, the ray moving from the illuminated part to that which was hitherto dark.
Do you see how vision becomes a teacher to you, not having provided for you by itself the contemplation C of such things, unless indeed there is that which sees through the eyes, which, using those things known by sense as a kind of guide through the phenomena, penetrates to the things not seen? What need is there to add the geometric methods through sensible figures, which guide us toward the things above sense, and ten thousand other things besides these, through which it is established that the apprehension of the intellectual essence, which is infused, joined, mixed, and hidden in our nature, comes about through those things working in us corporally?
- G. But what, I said, if, just as there is something common in the sensible nature of the elements—the material—yet there is a great difference regarding the specific property in each D kind of matter (for the motion to them is from the opposite, one being upward-tending, and another burdened toward the bottom, and the form is not the same, and the quality is different in something), if anyone were to say that there is a power subsisting according to reason in these, which produces these intellectual phantasies and motions from a natural property and power? Such as we see many things produced by mechanics, upon which matter is technically
A arranged to imitate nature, not only B showing a likeness in form, but also moving and representing a certain simulated voice, as the mechanism resonates in its vocal part; and yet we do not perceive in those things that are done a power endowed with intelligence, which individually effects and produces each of these things—the figure, the appearance, the sound, the motion. If we say that this happens also in this mechanical instrument of our nature—that no nature perceived by the mind has been infused into it, but that a certain motive power of the elements within us is naturally inherent, and that such activity is on its own an effect—would this demonstrate that the intellectual and incorporeal substance of the soul exists, or that it does not exist at all? Or is it nothing other than a certain impulsive motion operating around the knowledge of the things which we study and apply ourselves to? Could it be more demonstrated by these things that the nature of the soul essentially exists within itself as rational, participating in intelligence and incorporeal, or that it does not exist at all?
M. But she: Since similitude, she says, aids and defends our argument, every structure and composition of the contradiction brought against us will contribute not a little to the confirmation of our opinion. G. Why do you say this? I asked. M. Because, she replied, to know in this way to handle, to dispose, and to accommodate inanimate matter, so that the art which is applied to machines serves the matter almost in the place of a soul—because it represents motion, and sound, and figure, and such things—is enough to demonstrate that there is something in man such that, through a contemplative and inventive faculty, he can naturally consider these things within himself, conceive them in his mind, and observe them, and then beforehand in his thought establish and prepare the machines, and thus afterwards bring them into action through art, and through the matter show the concept of the mind. For first he observed that for the production of voice there is need of breath; then, by considering the nature of the elements, he reasoned beforehand how breath might be devised for the machine, observing that there is no void in the nature of things, but by comparison with the heavier, the lighter is thought and said to be void, since the air itself in its own nature is solid and full. For a vessel is called void by abuse of language; for when it is void of liquid, it is nevertheless full of air, as the learned also show.
A And the sign of this is that when a jar is brought to a pool, it is not immediately filled with water, but first, because the air intercepted within it resists and pushes upward, it floats until the jar is pressed down to the bottom by the hand of the one drawing the water, and then receives the water through its mouth. By this action it is shown that, even before it was filled with water, it was not empty. For a certain struggle of the two elements is seen at the mouth; the water, by its heaviness and weight, is forced into the hollow and flows in, while the air which is trapped in the hollow is squeezed around the water within the same mouth and flows back out, so that the water is, as it were, interrupted and hindered by this struggle, and, being refracted by the force of the breath and surging back, it produces a sound as if from a shell, foaming from the violence of the air. These things, therefore, he observed, and he devised how air might be introduced into machines through the nature of the elements. For having constructed a hollow vessel from a solid and durable material, B and having enclosed the air within it on all sides so that it cannot escape, he introduces the water through the mouth of the hollow vessel—having measured the quantity of water according to the measure of the need—and then he provides a passage for the air toward the adjacent tube placed on the opposite side. The air, being squeezed by the water more violently, becomes a "blast," which, as it escapes through the structure of the tube, produces a sound. C Is it not then clearly shown by the things that appear that there is in man a mind, something other than what appears, which, by the invisible and formless nature of its own understanding, prepares these things within itself through its thoughts, and then brings the intelligence formed within into the open and public view through material service? For if it were allowed, according to the argument proposed to us, to ascribe and assign such wondrous works to the nature of the elements, the machines would surely be constructed for us by themselves and by chance; and neither would the bronze wait for art to be formed into a human figure, but would at once be such by nature, nor would the air need a tube to produce a sound, but would always resound of its own accord, since it would be flowing and moving by random chance; nor would the course of the water through the pipe be forced to travel upward—an unnatural motion driven and compelled by the pressure of art—but the water would at all times spontaneously ascend to the machine, since it would be raised upward by its own nature. But if nothing of these things is brought about by the nature of the elements of its own accord, but everything is guided toward its intended purpose by art—and the
A art is a certain stable and firm intelligence, which is exercised through matter toward some set purpose and plan, and the intelligence of the mind is a certain proper motion and efficiency—then the sequence of what has been said has demonstrated that the mind is something other than what appears [by way of opposites to us, for something else appears than what is manifest].
M. I, for my part, say that this is indeed so, that what is not manifest is not the same as what is manifest; yet in this discourse I do not see what is being sought, for it is not yet clear to me what I ought to finally consider that non-manifest thing to be; although I have learned from the discourse that it is not something material, I have not yet learned what it is fitting to say about it. I desired to learn this most of all: not what it is not, but what it is.
M. But she replied: We learn many things and about many subjects in this way, by clarifying what a thing is by saying what it is not. For by saying that someone is "not depraved," we have indicated that he is good; and by calling someone "not a man," we have signified that he is a coward; and many things of this same sort can be said, through which we either grasp a more favorable understanding by the negation of evils, or conversely, we turn toward a worse opinion by rejecting what is good, thereby indicating that which is depraved and evil. If, therefore, anyone considers the matter in the present question in this same way, starting from that thought and opinion which the object B requires for its search and investigation, he will not go astray.
But it is asked what we ought to think the mind is according to its very essence. Whoever, therefore, does not doubt that the thing about which the question arises exists—on account of the efficiency which is shown to us by it—can abundantly and sufficiently attain knowledge of what it is, if he wishes. For if he has learned that it is not this which is perceived by the senses—not color, not shape, not solidity, not weight, not quantity, not the division into three dimensions, not position in a place, nor anything at all of those things that are observed around matter—he knows that it is something other than these.
G. But I, interrupting her discourse, said: I do not know how, if all these things are removed from the discourse, it is possible that the object being sought is not removed and abolished along with them. For by what faculty will the care and diligence of perception grasp it without these—a faculty to which it might hold fast—this, in my opinion, D does not yet appear. In every way, for in the search for the nature of things, through the investigative mind, just as if some blind men [by way of walls...]
A led towards a door by walls, we always attain one of those things mentioned—either we find color, or shape, or magnitude, or some other thing among those enumerated by you; but whenever it is said that it is none of these, we are driven by the littleness of our souls to think that it is absolutely nothing at all.
M. But she, indignant while I said these things, "Alas for the absurdity!" she says, "to what an end does this small-minded and abject judgment concerning things known by the intellect arrive! For if everything that is not known by sense is removed from the realm of being, he who says this would not be able to acknowledge B even the power and authority that directs and encompasses the universe; rather, having been taught that the divine nature is incorporeal and invisible, he would, by such a consequence, conclude that it does not exist at all. But if, on the other hand, just because these things are not present, the limitation and destruction of its essence does not occur, how is the human mind excluded and cast out from the nature of things, as if it were consumed along with the removal of bodily properties?"
G. "Therefore," I said, "we proceed from one absurdity to another through this consequence. For the argument holds us to the idea C that our mind is the same as the divine nature, since both are understood by the subtraction of those things that are apprehended by the senses."
M. "Do not say it is the same," says the teacher (for this, too, is an impious statement), "but as you were taught by the divine Scripture, say that it is *like* to it. For that which was made in the image has in all respects, in every way, the likeness to the archetype: intellectual to the intellectual, and incorporeal to the incorporeal, and, like that one, exempt from every D bulk, and escaping all measurable dimension in the same way as that one; yet it is something other than that in respect of the property of its nature. For it would no longer be an image if it were the same as that in all respects. But in those aspects in which that is seen in the uncreated nature, the created nature displays this also in the same things: and just as often a whole circle of the sun is seen in a small fragment of glass, when it happens to be placed toward a ray, not appearing in its own size, but as the smallness of the fragment receives the reflection of the circle; so in the smallness of our nature, the images of those ineffable properties of the Godhead shine forth, so that through these, the mind, being led by the hand, neither falls
in the world, appearing not according to its own magnitude within it, but in proportion to the smallness of the circle's fragment that takes in and admits its image and representation: thus, in the smallness of our nature, the images of those inexplicable properties of the Deity shine forth, so that through these, as if guided by hand, reason may neither slip and wander away from the grasp and knowledge of the nature of the mind, provided that in the examination of the corporeal question the [specific] property is distinguished and rejected; nor, on the other hand, should one hold that the small and mortal nature is the same as the invisible and immortal nature, but [should rather] believe that its nature is perceived by reason and intellect: for since it is an image of a nature that is comprehensible by the mind, one must not, however, say that the image is the same as the primary and original form.
B Just as, therefore, through the hidden and ineffable wisdom of God which appears in the universe of things, we do not doubt that the divine nature and power are in all existing things, so that all things may remain in their essence (although if anyone should demand and seek out the reason of nature, the nature of God is very far removed and different from the individual things which are shown and understood in creation; yet it is established that even in these there exists that which is different and distinct in its nature): so it is in no way incredible that the nature of the soul, which is something else in itself (whatever it may be thought to be), should not be hindered from existing, even if those things which are considered as elements in the world do not, by reason of nature, agree with it. For as it has already been said before, even in living bodies, whose nature consists of the contemperation of the elements, there is no community by reason of nature between the simple, formless, and invisible nature of the soul and the dense mass and concretion of the bodies; nevertheless, it is not doubted that the vital efficacy of the soul is mixed and diffused within them, in a manner surpassing human observation and knowledge. C Therefore, when the elements that are in the body are resolved into themselves, that which gathers and connects them through its vital efficacy does not perish. But just as, while the concretion of the elements still stands and endures, the soul penetrates and animates each individual part—since all parts that fill up and constitute the body are animated equally and similarly—and one would not say that the soul itself is solid and hard, because it is mixed and contempered with the earthly, nor that it is wet, or cold, or endowed with a quality opposed to the cold, which is in all these things and imparts vital power to each; so, too, when that coagmentation is dissolved and returns again to its own proper and kindred things, it is not reasonable to believe that that simple and uncompounded nature deserts any of the parts D even after the dissolution; but rather that it remains forever with those things into which it was once mixed by some ineffable reason, united to that combination of elements, and in no way torn away from the union that was once formed with it. For
since that which is compounded is dissolved, there is a risk that A that which is not compounded should be dissolved along with the composite.
G. And I said: But that the elements fall together with one another, and are separated from one another, and that this is the constitution and dissolution of the body, no one would gainsay. Since, however, there is understood to be a great difference between each of those things which, according to their local position, and the difference and property of their qualities, are of a different kind from one another, and yet have converged together as the substrate of the elements, it is consistent that this intellectual and indivisible nature which we call the soul should exist connatural with that which is united. But if these should be separated from one another and go B wherever the nature of each leads them, what will the soul suffer, its vehicle being scattered in many directions? Just as some sailor, when his ship has been dissolved in a shipwreck, is unable to swim at the same time to all the parts of the ship scattered here and there in the sea—for, having taken hold of whatever comes to hand, he leaves the rest to be carried away by the waves—in the same way, the soul, not having a nature that can be torn apart by the separation of the elements, if it is inseparably attached to the body, will necessarily be separated from the others by being attached to one single element; and the sequence C of the argument leads one to think that it is no more immortal because it lives in one, than mortal because it is not in the many.
M. But, he says, that which is perceived by the mind and is indivisible neither contracts nor expands—for contraction and expansion are properties of bodies—but it is present equally according to its own nature, which is invisible, formless, and incorporeal, both with the elements that are joined and concreted around the body and with those that are separated and disjoined. It is not crushed or straitened by the elements being D squeezed together in the combination, nor is it abandoned when they have departed to their kindred elements and are left according to their nature, even if the difference between the elements seems immense. For great is the difference between the upward-tending and light, and the heavy and earthy, between the hot and the cold, and between the moist and its opposite; but nevertheless, there is no trouble for the intellectual nature and the soul.
that which consists solely in the mind and is perceived by thought, to be present to each of those things to which it has once adhered, nor is it split up through the A re-flowing, dispersion, and distraction along with the contrariety of the elements. For it is not because these things are thought to be far apart from one another due to local placement and a certain quality that therefore the indivisible nature, which is free from separation and space, finds it a great task and difficult to be joined with things that are distant in place; since even now the mind is able simultaneously to contemplate heaven and to extend itself to the ends of the world with an inquisitive search, and the contemplative part of our soul is not torn apart while it is extended to such great lengths. Therefore, nothing hinders the soul from being equally present to the elements of the body, both when they are tempered together through their concurrence and when they are resolved through dispersion, distraction, and disjunction. For just as when gold and silver have been melted together, a certain artificial power is discerned that has fused those materials; and if again through liquefaction one should be separated from the other, the principle of the art nonetheless remains in each; and although the matter has been divided, the art is not cut up along with the matter—for how could that which is indivisible be divided?—by the same reasoning, the intellectual nature of the soul is also discerned both in the concurrence of the elements, and when they are dissolved it is not separated or segregated; but it remains in them, and as it is extended along with their separation, it is not broken or interrupted, nor is it fragmented into partial B pieces according to the number of the elements. For this is proper to the bodily and dimensional nature; but the intellectual and indivisible nature does not admit the passions that come from extension.
Therefore, the soul is in those things in which it once was, with no necessity tearing it away from the coherence by which it was joined and grew together with them. What, then, is sad, bitter, and worthy of despondency in these things, if what is seen is exchanged for the invisible? And for the sake of what is your mind so hostile toward death? — G. As for me, when I had revolved and repeated in my mind the definition of the soul which he had made in the previous discourse, I said that the statement which says it is an intellectual nature and generates a vital force in the instrumental body for the efficiency and addition of the senses had not been sufficiently demonstrated to me as I considered and reflected upon the powers and strengths which are discerned in the soul. For our soul is not only efficacious and active regarding that movement of our mind by which we perceive and contemplate the sciences, working such things through that which consists in the mind and the intelligence of its nature, C nor does it only manage the sensory organs for their natural operation; but also much movement according to desire, and much also according to D spirit, is discerned in the nature. Of each of these, moreover, generation...
and A operation proceed into many and various differences. For it is possible to see many things of which the concupiscible power is the leader; much also, in turn, springs from the irascible cause, and none of this is body, but that which is incorporeal is altogether intellectual; and the definition declared the soul to be something intellectual, so that from the sequence of the argument one or the other of two absurdities must emerge: either that anger and desire are other souls within us, and a multitude of souls is discerned and noted instead of one, or that even the motive and intelligent power within us is not thought to be the soul. For the intellectual [element], being adapted equally to all, will either prove all these to be souls, or will equally remove each of these from this property of the soul.
M. And she says, “This argument, which has already been sought by many others, you also have consequently sought: what indeed we ought to consider these to be—that is, the power of desire and the irascible power—whether they are simultaneously implanted in the nature of the soul and, as it were, co-essential and consubstantial, and have existed with it from the beginning, and immediately from the commencement of its creation and constitution, or whether they are something else besides it, and have come to us later?” That these things are indeed observed in the soul is equally agreed upon by everyone; but what one ought to think about them, reason has not yet fully and perfectly attained, so as to have a firm opinion about them, but the common people are still even now in doubt about them B owing to vague, false, and diverse opinions. To us, indeed, if external philosophy, which has skillfully disputed and discussed these matters, were sufficient for the demonstration of truth, it would perhaps be superfluous to add a discourse to their commentary on the soul. But since the commentary on the soul has been set forth by them according to license and at will, as seemed consonant and consistent to them; we, however, are devoid of this license—I mean the license to say what we want—since we use holy Scripture as the rule and law of every doctrine, and we necessarily look to this, and we accept only that which C is found to be in agreement with the aim of the written D [Scriptures]. Therefore, setting aside the Platonic chariot, and the team of horses yoked to it, which are not disposed with similar impulses toward one another, and the charioteer over them, by all of which such things concerning
the soul are philosophized through an enigma; let us also omit those things which he who was the philosopher after him A hands down, who pursues apparent things with artifice, and by carefully examining and treating the matters now set before us, concluded and pronounced the soul to be mortal through these things. Having also left behind all those who were before and after these, who handed down philosophical matters either in loose prose or in speech constrained by a certain number and measure, let us set forth for our discourse the divinely inspired Scripture, to see what it aims at and intends, and what the divine Scripture establishes, so that we may think there is nothing excellent and distinguished in the soul which is not also proper to the divine nature. For he who said the soul is an image of God declared that whatever is alien to God is outside the definition of the soul. For similarity cannot be preserved in things that are diverse and differing. Therefore, since nothing of such a kind is perceived in the divine nature, one would not rightly suppose that these things are B innate and, as it were, coessential to the soul.
Now, as for the dialectical art, through a science that collects and resolves reasons and arguments, to confirm our dogmas and decrees—we shall reject and pass over this kind of discourse, because it is both weak and suspect for demonstrating the truth. For it is plain to all and evident that dialectical curiosity has equal power on both sides, both for the overturning of truth and for the judgment of falsehood. Whence, even the truth itself, when it is brought forward using such an art, we often hold in suspicion, as if the subtlety and craftiness of these arts might seduce our mind and drive it into deceit, turning it away from the truth. But if anyone accepts an uncompounded and incondite discourse, C bare of any veil or covering, we shall speak as we are able, bringing in a commentary on these matters according to the series and context of the scriptural tradition.
What, therefore, is it that we say? That man is a rational animal, capable, that is, of intelligence and science, is approved by the testimony of even those who are alien to the word of our faith and religion; for the definition would not have so described and marked out our nature if it were the case that irascibility, concupiscence, and all such things were D united with and, as it were, coessential to our nature. For no one would give a definition of a subject by applying the common in place of the proper, regarding the soul’s concupiscible part as a yoke of horses, and the intellectual part, or rather the mind, as the charioteer.
Since, therefore, the concupiscible and irascible power is seen equally in both the irrational and the rational nature, no one could reasonably designate what is proper by the common mark. But as for that which is superfluous and to be rejected for the designation of nature, how can it, as if it were a part of nature, have the force to overturn a definition? For every definition of a substance looks to the proper element of the subject. Whatever is outside this peculiarity and property is viewed and despised as alien to the definition. And yet, it is agreed that the power and operation of irascibility and concupiscence are common to the whole of nature, both rational and irrational. Now, whatever is common is not the same as that which is peculiar. It is necessary, therefore, to judge from these A considerations that these things are not of the number of those matters by which human nature is characteristically defined. But just as one who looks at the sentient, nutritive, and augmentative power in us does not through these resolve the definition of the soul that has been set forth—for it is not the case that because this is in the soul, that other thing is not—in the same way, if one observes the motions of our nature regarding irascibility and concupiscence, he would not reasonably fight against the definition on the grounds that it has shown the nature insufficiently, if he observes the motions of our nature regarding irascibility and concupiscence, he would not also correctly oppose the definition, as if it had displayed our nature B insufficiently.
G. What, then, I asked the mistress, ought one to determine and think about concerning this? For I am not yet able to see how it is meet to reject and put away as alien to our nature those things which are in us. M. You see, she says, that there is a certain battle of the reason against these things, and a striving for the soul to be separated from them, as far as it is possible. And there are indeed some to whom this striving has successfully reached its goal, just as we hear in the case of Moses, that he was superior to both anger and concupiscence, history bearing witness to him on both counts: that he was gentle beyond all men—for his mildness and calmness indicate a voiding of anger and an C animus alien to irascibility—and that he did not desire any of those things regarding which we see the concupiscible power occupied in the majority of men. Which would not have come to pass for him if these were nature, and were referred to the account of the substance. For it is not possible for one who has gone outside of nature to remain in existence. But if Moses was both in existence and not in these, then these things are something else beside nature, and not nature. For that which truly is nature is that in which the existence D of the substance is grasped.
A But how far, then, are these passions of nature, and not essence? For the many think that anger is a boiling of the blood around the heart. Others B define it as the appetite for avenging oneself on one who has initiated an injury. But, as we would suppose, anger is the impulse to harm the one who has provoked it. C None of these, however, coincides with the definition of the soul. Likewise, if we define concupiscence by itself, we would say it is the appetite for that which is lacking, or the desire for the enjoyment of pleasure, or grief over not being able to possess that which is dear to the heart and pleasing and acceptable to the mind, or some leaning toward that which is sweet and pleasant, the enjoyment of which is not available. For all these and all such things indeed indicate desire, but they do not attach to the definition of the soul.
Furthermore, all other things that are observed around the soul, which act in opposition to one another—such as, for instance, cowardice and boldness, grief and pleasure, fear and contempt, and whatever else is similar—each one of which seems to have a kinship with the irascible or the concupiscible faculty, yet designates its own nature by a particular definition. For both boldness and contempt signify a certain manifestation of the irascible impulse; but the state and affection that is engendered through cowardice and fear [signify] a certain diminution and relaxing of this same thing. B Grief, moreover, has its materials from both. For the inability of anger—when one cannot avenge oneself on those who have previously harmed one—results in grief; and the despair of those things which are coveted, and the deprivation of those things which are dear to the heart and pleasing, generates this sad and somber affection in the mind. And also that which is seen to be contrary to grief, I mean the sense of pleasure, is likewise divided into anger and concupiscence. For pleasure holds sway over both of these equally. C All these things, while they are around the soul, are not soul, but are as it were certain warts growing out of the rational part of the soul—which, because they are attached to it, are thought to be parts of it, but they are not what the soul is in its essence. D And indeed we see—I said to the virgin—that no small
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gain comes from these things for the virtuous. For as to Daniel, the praise…was his desire; and Phinehas appeased God by his anger; and we learned that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and we heard from Paul that the end of sorrow according to God is salvation; and the Gospel prescribes for us the contempt of terrible things; and not to be dismayed at frightful things is nothing other than a definition of boldness, which is enumerated among the good things by Wisdom. The discourse therefore shows through these things that one must not think such things are passions; for passions would not have been combined for the pursuit of virtue.
M. And the teacher said, “I seem to be the cause of such confusion in the arguments, in that I did not distinguish and separate the discourse on this matter, so that some order consistent with the speculation and treatment might be applied. B Now therefore, as far as it is possible, some order for the inquiry will be devised, so that, with the speculation proceeding in sequence, such contradictions may no longer have a place among us. For we say that the speculative and discerning power of the soul, which views the things that exist, is its own and natural, and through the grace that is God-like, it is for this reason that it preserves the image in itself. Since by reasoning and conjecture it is gathered that the divine power C (whatever it may be in its nature) is occupied with these things, namely, both in viewing all things and in distinguishing the good from the worse. But those things which lie on the border of the soul, having by their own nature an inclination toward either of the opposites—the use of which leads the outcome either to the good or to the contrary, such as anger or fear, or if there is any such thing among the motions that are in the soul, without which human nature cannot be contemplated—we judge that these have come to it from the outside, because in the archetypal beauty no such sign is perceived. D And let the discourse on these matters be set before us as in an exercise, so that it may escape the slanders of those who listen captiously, and so that, by a certain path and an order of sequence, the discourse may recount how the Divine fashioned man.”
A Since when the whole was constituted, as the history says, man did not immediately come to be upon the earth, but the nature of brute animals preceded him, and before them the plants. By these things, I think, the Word demonstrates that the vital power is mixed with the corporeal nature in a certain succession, first clothing itself in those things devoid of sensation, then advancing to the sentient, and after that ascending to the intelligent and rational. B Therefore, of things that exist, one is corporeal, another is entirely endowed with mind and intelligence. Of the corporeal, one is inanimate, the other animate. And I call that "animate" which is a participant in life. Of those that live, some live by sensation, while others are devoid of it. Again, of those endowed with sensation, some are rational, others are irrational. Since, therefore, the sensitive life cannot exist without matter, nor can that which is endowed with mind exist in a body otherwise than by being attached through the faculty of sensation, for this reason it is taught that man was fashioned in the last place, so that he might embrace in himself every form of life, both that which is discerned in plants and that which is observed in the brutes. C He has the power to be nourished and to grow from the life of plants and trees; for it is possible to see such a thing even in them, since nourishment is drawn in through the roots and is excreted and cast out through the fruits and leaves; but that which is governed by sensation he has from the brutes and those devoid of reason. But the power of thinking and reasoning is, in this nature, joined with no admixture, but is peculiar, being considered separately by itself. But just as nature has a faculty, which attracts what is necessary, from the material life—which faculty, when it exists in us, is called desire—we say that this belongs to the vegetative species of life. But since it is possible to see even in those things certain impulses naturally operating in the being filled with what is appropriate and [a force] for growth; in the same way, whatever properties belong to the nature of those devoid of reason, these were mixed with the intelligent part of the soul. D Those things, he says, such as anger, fear, and all the other things that are activated in us in opposition to reason, except for the rational and intellectual power (which alone is the prerogative of our life in itself, as has been said, having the imitation of the divine character), were mingled with it. But since, according to the argument already set forth, it is not possible for the rational power to be present in the corporeal life without it coming into being through the senses, and sensation is in...
the brute and irrational nature beforehand, it follows of necessity that our soul possesses communion with these things that are linked and joined to it.
These things which occur within us are called passions, and they were not in every way allotted to human life for the sake of evil; for B otherwise the Creator would hold the responsibility for evils, if from that source the necessities for transgressions were planted together within nature. Rather, through a certain use of the faculty of choice, such movements of the soul become instruments of either virtue or vice. Just as iron, when hammered according to the intention of the craftsman, is shaped into whatever the desire of the one crafting has determined—becoming either a sword or some agricultural tool—so too, if reason—which is the preeminent part of our nature—holds the leadership over those things C that enter in from outside, as the discourse of Scripture long ago indicated by an enigma when it commanded us to rule over all irrational creatures, it would not exert these movements for the service of vice; rather, fear would produce obedience, anger would produce courage, timidity would produce caution and security, and the impulse of desire would provide for us a divine and incorruptible pleasure.
But if reason should let go D of the reins, and like some charioteer should become entangled in the chariot and be dragged behind it, being carried off wherever the irrational movement of the yoked beasts leads, then the impulses are overturned into passion, just as it is possible to see in irrational creatures. For because reason does not preside over the movements that are naturally occurring within them, those animals which are prone and inclined to anger destroy one another, driven by anger; while those that are fleshy and powerful reap no benefit from their strength for any proper good, as their power becomes the property of something irrational; and the activity of desire and pleasure is not occupied with anything lofty, nor is anything else among the things observed in them directed by any reason toward what is beneficial. Thus, in us too, if these things are not guided toward the goal by reason, but the passions gain the mastery over the dominion of the mind, the human being passes over into the irrational and senseless, turned away from the intellectual and godlike by the impulse of such passions.
A G. I am indeed very favorably disposed toward what has been said, and I would say that for any person of sound mind, a discourse that proceeds thus simply and artlessly, following a logical sequence, seems to be sound and in no way to stray from the truth. B But since to those who have trained themselves in the expert methods and artificial instruments of syllogisms, the demonstration of proofs seems sufficient for producing faith; yet for us, it was agreed that having a firm grasp of all technical conclusions, what is revealed through the teachings of the Holy Scriptures is more trustworthy; and so I think we must look into what has been said, to see if divinely inspired teaching agrees with these points. C M. And she replied: "Who, I ask, would contradict that the truth should be placed in that alone which carries the seal of Scriptural witness? If, therefore, it is necessary to bring in something from the evangelical teaching to support and defend this dogma and opinion of ours, the consideration of the parable of the tares will not be untimely for us. For there the householder sowed good seed (and we are indeed the household); but while men slept, the enemy lay in wait and sowed the useless seed among that which was to be nourished, putting the tares right in the middle of the wheat. And the seeds grew together. For it was not possible for the seed that was cast in with the wheat itself not to germinate together with it. But the master and inspector of the harvest forbids the servants to pluck up what was useless, because at the root they had grown together and were joined in a contrary way, so that in plucking out the alien growth, that which was meant to be nourished might not be pulled up with it. D For we think that Scripture indicates by the good seeds such appetites and impulses of the soul, each one of which, if it were cultivated solely for the good, would surely have produced for us the fruit of virtue. But since, alongside these, error concerning the judgment of the good has been sown in, through sin, and what is truly and solely good by its own nature has been obscured by the growth of deception that sprouted up along with it (for the desiring faculty was not sown in us for the sake of the good which is so by nature, but it grew and sprang up, and turned the sprout of its lack of discernment regarding the good into a beastly and irrational one)
- for the concupiscible power did not grow and spring up for that which is good and honorable by nature, for the sake of which it was originally implanted in us, but it dragged its appetite and control toward a bestial and irrational nature, lacking in reason, having changed the sprout by a perverse judgment concerning what is good and right. Likewise, it did not sharpen the seed of anger for fortitude, but armed us for B combat with those who are of our own people and our neighbors; and the power of love departed from those things which are perceived by the mind, and ran mad beyond measure in the enjoyment of things which fall under the senses and are material; and in the same way, the other faculties produced worse sprouts instead of better ones. For this reason the wise husbandman allows the sprout that has naturally grown with the seed to remain in it, providing and taking care lest we be stripped of the better things if, together with the useless sprout, the desire should be completely extirpated. For if this were to happen to human nature, what would there be to raise us up and incite us to heavenly connection and proximity? Or, if love were taken away, by what means would we be joined and united with the divine nature? And if anger were extinguished, what weapon would we have against the one who struggles against us? The husbandman therefore leaves the bastard seeds in us, not that they should always prevail against the more precious crop, but that the soil itself (for thus he allegorically and by way of metaphor names the heart) might, through the power implanted in it, which is reason, wither and dry up one sprout, while making the other flourish and bear fruit; but if this does not happen, he reserves the judgment of the produce of the field for the fire.
C Wherefore, if anyone uses these things rightly and as reason requires, and receives them into himself, but is not himself brought into their power, but like some king who uses the multitude of his subjects as an assisting help, he more easily achieves that which he intends to accomplish with virtue. But if, as usually happens, when certain slaves rebel against their master, he becomes subject to them, and yielding in a cowardly and base manner to their servile arrogance and audacity, becomes a slave and chattel to them—those things which by nature are subject to him—he will necessarily be transferred to those things toward which the force of those who rule over him compels him. But if these things are so, we will not pronounce these things to be virtue or vice in themselves, since, being movements of the soul, it is in the power and, as it were, at the choice of those who use them whether they are good or evil. But when for them the...
inclination is toward the worse, then these are A accounted and named passions. **G.** When she had paused after these statements and allowed a brief space of time to pass in the conversation, and I had gathered in my mind what had been said, I again ran back to the previous sequence of the discourse, in which it was maintained that it is not impossible for the soul to be in the elements once the body has been dissolved. And I said to my teacher: "Where, then, is that name of Hades, which is bruited about everywhere—very much in the usage of daily life, and very much in the writings both of outsiders and of our own—into which everyone thinks that souls depart from here as if into a container? For you would surely not call the elements Hades."
**M.** And the teacher, she said, "It is clear, if you have not been paying too close attention to the discourse. For when I spoke of the transition of the soul from the seen to the unseen, I thought I had omitted nothing that might be asked about Hades. For B to me it appears that this name, both in secular books and in divine Scripture, signifies nothing else in which they say that souls exist, than the transition into that which is unseen and invisible."
**G.** "And how is it," I asked, "that some think it is thus called a subterranean place, and that it harbors the souls of those who have died within itself, like some vessel capable of receiving a nature of this kind, which draws to itself those who have already flown from human life?"
**M.** But not at all the more, the teacher replied, will our opinion and teaching be weakened and damaged by this view, even if your account were true. For since the celestial vault is continuous and indissoluble with itself, holding together and restraining all things within its own circle and circuit, and the earth and everything observed around it are suspended in the middle, and the movement of all things that revolve in a circle takes place around that which is stable, firm, and solid, C it is absolutely necessary, she says, that whatever happens to each of the elements regarding the upper part of the earth, this should also happen regarding the opposite part, since one and the same nature runs around the entire bulk of it. And just as above the sun, when it appears, it turns upon that which lies beneath it,
A because the globular figure cannot be embraced on all sides at the same time by the circumference of the ray, but by every necessity, to whatever part of the earth the sun directs its rays, being necessarily situated at some center upon the sphere, there will be darkness at the other end of the straight diameter; and thus, continuously, with the solar course, the darkness revolves in proportion to that which is opposite to the straight line of the ray, so that in equal measure, the superterranean and the subterranean place are alternately in light and darkness. B Thus it is reasonable—and also, one should not doubt, in all other things whatsoever that are observed according to the nature of the elements in our hemisphere of the earth—that the same thing holds for the other hemisphere. But since there is one and the same circumference of the elements in every part of the earth, I think one should neither contradict nor support those who maintain a controversy regarding these matters, as if one ought to suppose either this or the subterranean place is designated and attributed to souls released from bodies. For as long as the objection does not disturb the primary and fundamental doctrine concerning the existence of souls after the life lived in the flesh, our discourse will differ nothing as regards place, holding that occupying a position in a place is proper only to bodies; but that a soul, being incorporeal, has no necessity by nature to be contained within certain places.
C G. “What then,” I said, “if an adversary should bring forward the Apostle, saying that every rational nature is to look to the President of the universe in the restoration of all things, in which he also makes mention of some subterranean beings through the Epistle to the Philippians, saying: ‘that to Him every knee shall bow, of things in heaven, and things on earth, and things under the earth’?” — M. “We shall remain,” says the teacher, “in this firm and settled conviction, even if we hear those who say these things; for with regard to the fact that the soul exists, we have even the adversary in harmony and agreement, but regarding the place where it is to be, as has been said in what preceded, we do not contend.” — G. “What then,” I said, “shall one say to those who inquire for the apostolic meaning in this utterance, if one were to move the word away from its local significance?” — M. “But,” says she, “the divine Apostle does not seem to me, D by reason of place, to be discerning and distinguishing the intellectual substance, when he names one thing heavenly, another earthly, and another subterranean. But since there are three states of the rational nature known to us, which from the beginning obtained the incorporeal life, which we call angelic; and the other, which is joined to the flesh…
A and connected, which we call human; and the third, that which is freed by death from the carnal. This matter, I think, is observed in souls, where the divine Apostle, looking with the depth of his wisdom, signifies the harmony that will some day exist in the good for the entire rational nature; calling the angelic and incorporeal "heavenly"; the one joined to the body "earthly"; and the "subterranean" that which is now separated and disjoined from the body, or certainly, if any other nature besides those enumerated is observed among the rational ones, which whether one wishes to name demons, or spirits, or something else of such a kind, we shall not contend, but shall regard as immaterial. For it is believed both from common opinion and from the tradition of the Scriptures that there is a certain nature outside such bodies, which is disposed in opposition and contrariety to the good, and which presses toward the detriment and destruction of human nature, having of its own accord fallen away and flowed down from the better lot, and having substituted in itself in place of the good and honest, from which it fell, that which is understood as the contrary: which they say the Apostle numbers B among the subterranean and infernal, signifying by that expression that, through the long circuits and meanderings of the ages, when wickedness has been abolished and extinguished, nothing will be left except the good. But even the demons will concordantly and consentingly confess the lordship of Christ.
Since these things are so, let no one compel us to understand by the name of "subterranean" and "infernal" a subterranean place, seeing that the air is equally diffused everywhere around the earth, so that no part of it is found empty and naked from the embrace of the air.
G. When my teacher had set these things forth, having hesitated a little, I said: "I have not yet inquired sufficiently, nor has my inquiry been satisfied; but even now my mind remains in some way ambiguous regarding the things that have been said, and I ask that, omitting those things on which we have already agreed, the discourse be brought back to the same sequence for me. For I judge that it is not difficult that those who are not excessively hard and obstinate might be induced by the things that have been said not to lead the soul to destruction and abolition after the dissolution of the bodies, nor to affirm, because it is different from the nature of the elements, that therefore it cannot be anywhere in the universal C order. For although a nature partaking of intelligence and devoid of matter does not correspond and harmonize with the elements, it is nevertheless not prohibited from being in them; for this opinion is confirmed for us by a double reason: both from the fact that now in this life D the soul is in the bodies, existing as something other than the body according to its essence, and from the fact that to demonstrate the divine nature
B even though it is something entirely different from that which is participant in sense and matter, it yet extends through each of the things that exist, and by its mixture with the whole holds together in being those things that exist, so that from these, as the logical consequence of the discourse shows, we must think that not even the soul is outside the encompassing whole, since that which is discerned in form and species has passed over into that which cannot be seen. But how, I said, when the elements, by their union through mutual mixture, have taken on some other form, with which the soul has been brought into affinity and joined, does that form also perish and vanish, as is probable and consistent, upon the dissolution of the elements? And by what sign will the soul follow after, when that which was known has not remained?
M. She paused a little C and said, "Let it be granted to me, by my own authority, to fashion some account by way of an example, for the sake of clarity and explanation of the question proposed, even if what is said should appear impossible. For let it be granted that it is possible, by the art of painting, not only to mix colors from opposites, as is the custom for them to do for the sake of likeness to a shape, but also to separate what has been mixed, and again to restore to each of the colors its natural tincture.
If, then, white and black, or red and golden, or whatever other dye is compared to the likeness of the matter at hand, if it were again separated from the mixture with another, and were to be on its own, we say that the form of the color is none the less recognized by the artist, and that no forgetfulness of it creeps in, neither of the red nor of the black, D if, having been different-colored by reason of the mixture with one another, they return again to their natural dye; and he remembers the manner of the mixture of the colors with one another, knowing what color resulted from which being in which, and how, once the other was cast out and removed, it ran back again to its own proper bloom. And if, again, there were a need to produce the same thing through the mixture, the making of it will be easier for him, having been meditated upon in the previous creation.
If, then, the argument has anything consistent in the example, she says, we must now examine the question itself. For instead of the art of painting, let the nature of the elements be understood, and the mixture [be understood as] the varied dye of those things that are of different colors, and again, the return which we granted in our hypothesis to their own proper states, [let this] represent for the argument the gathering and dispersion of the elements, and instead of the colors of the art...
acknowledge that the craftsman is not ignorant of the tincture of the color which, after the mixing, has been brought back again to its own proper flower; but he recognizes both the red and the black, and whatever other color, through some certain communion with a color of a different kind, produced the form—what it was indeed in the commixture, what it is now when it has been restored to its natural tincture, and what it will be in the same way if the colors are mixed together again: so we believe that the soul, even after the dissolution of the elements which had come together for the constitution of the body to which it was A attached, knows their natural property. And although nature may draw the elements far apart from one another on account of their inherent contrarieties, keeping each of them from the commixture of its contrary, nevertheless, by the power of knowing and exploring, the soul, embracing its own, will be and will remain present at each one, until the gathering of the separated elements again occurs for the re-establishment of the dissolved body from which they were forced, which is what is properly and is called resurrection.
G. And I said, "You seem to me, teacher, to have excellently defended, in passing, the doctrine and faith of the resurrection. For I think that through these points, those who oppose this faith might be gently led not to think it impossible for the elements to come together again among themselves and make the same man."
M. "Indeed you say this truly," said the teacher. "For it is possible to hear those who oppose this opinion saying: 'Since the dissolution of the elements occurs into the universe according to the affinity of each, what mechanism is there for the heat that is in this (living) man, when it has become B mixed into the general whole, to be separated again from that which is of the same kind, in order to restore him to being? For if that which is proper does not return exactly, but instead of the individual, something else is taken from the same kind, one thing will become another instead of the first, and such a thing would no longer be a resurrection, but the creation of a new man. But if it is necessary for the same individual to return again to himself, it is fitting that he should be entirely and thoroughly the same as himself, receiving back from all the parts of the elements their original nature.'"
G. "Then," I said, "as I have said, even against this opposition and contradiction, would not such an opinion about the soul be sufficient for us: namely, [that it remains present] with those elements to which it was C originally attached, even after the dissolution of the elements?
A that have been impressed from the beginning upon the elements, let it be that this remains even after the dissolution, like a guardian of a house, which, during the resolution of the elements into their own respective kinds, through the subtlety and agility of the faculty endowed with intelligence, does not relinquish its own proper property, nor suffers any error in the state of sparseness and attenuation of the elements, but accompanies its own as it is mixed with its own kind, and does not grow weak while passing through them, when they are poured back into the whole, but always remains in it where they are, and just as nature has prepared them. B
If, then, the power that governs the whole should again grant permission to those that have been dissolved to come together, then as if various ropes were hung from a single starting point, such that at the same time and in the same way they all follow the one pulling them, in the same manner, while the diverse elements are being drawn by the single power and potency of the soul, suddenly—at the moment of the arrival and meeting of their own—the chain of our body will be stitched together through the soul, and will be reassembled, with each part suitably applying itself again to its ancient and customary place, and embracing what is known to it.
"But this example as well," the teacher says, "might deservedly be added to those things already examined, in order to demonstrate that it is for the soul no great task to distinguish within the elements its own from what is foreign. For let us propose for the potter, by way of hypothesis, some clay, and let us grant that it is a large amount, of which one part is already fashioned for the manufacture of vessels, while the other is yet to be formed. And let all the vessels not be fashioned in the same way relative to one another, but let one be a storage jar, C another an amphora, and yet another be a platter, or a bowl, or something else fitting for use; and let these not all be possessed by one man, but let each be subject to its own master, as the argument requires. As long, therefore, as these stand firm and intact, they become easily recognizable to those who possess them; and even if they should be broken again, nonetheless, from the fragments, the marks and signs will remain for the owners, by which they might judge which shard is from the storage jar, and what sort of debris is from the cup. But if even these should be mixed with the raw, unworked clay, the identification of those already wrought becomes all the more unerring from that point on. Thus, just as D
A composition formed from the common matter of the elements, A with a form peculiarly and entirely distinct from others of the same kind. Once this is dissolved, the soul that possesses the vessel nonetheless recognizes its own from the remains, neither in the communion and confusion of the fragments, nor if it should be mixed with the raw matter of the elements, does it depart from its own; but, always knowing its own—what it was like when it stood in its form—even after the dissolution, by means of the signs that remained in the fragments, it does not err regarding its own.
G. I, having approved of what had been said as being found fittingly, aptly, and accommodate to the proposed argument: These things indeed, I said, are consistent and right to be said and believed, but if someone were to bring forward against these points the narrative of the Lord in the Gospel concerning those who are in Hades, as if it were not consistent and in agreement with what has been discussed, how ought we to prepare ourselves for the answer?
M. She, the teacher, said: The discourse sets forth the narrative in a way that is indeed more adapted to the body, yet it scatters many materials and causes through which it invites the one who understands and examines it toward a more subtle speculation. For he who by a vast chasm divides and separates evil from good, who made him who was being tormented desire a certain drop that might be moved by a finger, and who proposed the bosom of the patriarch as a rest for him who had been vexed by evils and hardships throughout this life, and who furthermore had first narrated that they had died and been given over to burial—by these things he does not slightly dissuade and lead away from the surface B meaning anyone who follows the words not foolishly and ignorantly, but intelligently. For what eyes does that rich man lift up in Hades, seeing that he had left his fleshly eyes in the tomb? How does that which is incorporeal feel fire? And what tongue does he desire to be cooled by the drop, since his fleshly one was not present? And who is the finger that would bring the drop to him? And what, likewise, is the bosom of rest? For when the bodies were in the tombs, and the soul was neither in the body nor composed of parts, it would be difficult to adapt the structure of the narrative, as it is immediately understood at first glance, to the truth, unless one translates each individual word from the body to that speculation which is perceived by the mind, so that we may not think the chasm that divides the communion of those who cannot mix C is a spatial separation of the earth. For to that which is incorporeal and intellectual, what effort is it to fly across the chasm, even if it were very long? Because that which is intellectual by nature exists D instantly wherever it wishes.
G. What then, I ask,
A is the fire, or the chasm, or the rest of the things mentioned, if they are not what they are said to be? M. To me, he says, it seems that the Gospel, through each of these things, signifies certain stable doctrines concerning matters sought after regarding the soul. For the patriarch, having said beforehand to the rich man that "you received in the life you passed in the flesh the portion of good things," and having said the same regarding the beggar, that "he also, during his life, fulfilled the obligation of the participation of evils and afflictions," and having subsequently added concerning the chasm by which they are separated from one another, seems by these words to point out through the discourse a certain great and stable doctrine.
B This doctrine, as far as my own reasoning goes, is as follows: The life of men was simple, and by simple I mean that which is perceived in the good alone and is not mixed with the communion of any evil. The first law of God testifies to such a doctrine, which, while it permitted man to enjoy and use abundantly all the good things that were in paradise, forbade him only that which, because evil was tempered with good, possessed a nature mixed from opposites, and imposed death as a penalty upon him who transgressed the law. But man, of his own volition C and by his own free movement, having abandoned the portion that was untainted by evil, drew upon himself the life that is tempered from opposites. Yet Divine Providence did not leave our folly uncorrected. But since the death decreed by the law necessarily followed those who had transgressed the law, it divided human life into two parts: this one, which is lived in the flesh, and that one, which after this is lived outside of the body. It did not divide them by an equal measure of interval, but marked off the former by a certain very short duration of time, and extended the latter to eternity. Through philanthropy, it gave the power to whoever D wishes, to have either of these—by which I mean both the good and the bad—either during this short and fleeting life, or during those endless ages whose limit is infinity.
Since both "good" and "evil" are spoken of equivocally, and each of these is divided into a double meaning—I mean in regard to intellect and to sense—and since some judge what is pleasing to the senses to be in the category of good, while others believe that only that which is contemplated by the mind is to be identified as good—for those to whom the reasoning faculty is untrained, and
A who cannot consider what is better, these, through gluttony and intemperance, squander and deplete in this carnal life the share of good that is due to their nature, reserving and saving nothing for the life that follows; but others, governing their own lives with a sound and discerning reasoning faculty, while being saddened and vexed in this short life by things that pain the senses, save and store up the good for the coming age, so that their better lot may be extended and prolonged unto them along with eternal life. B This, then, is, in my opinion, that chasm which is formed not by the earth parting and being split asunder, but by a judgment divided and parted by this life into opposite dispositions. For he who has once chosen whatever is sweet and pleasant in this life, and is not led by repentance to correct and amend his foolish and rash decision, renders the place of good things inaccessible and impassable to himself hereafter, having dug for himself this insurmountable necessity—a chasm boundless and unbridgeable—which cannot be crossed. For this reason, it seems to me that the discourse calls the good state of the soul, in which it makes the athlete of endurance rest, the bosom of Abraham. For this patriarch is reported to be the first of all those who have ever lived to have exchanged the enjoyment of present goods for the hope of future ones—he who, being stripped of all things in which his life consisted from the beginning, had his dwelling among strangers, and through the afflictions and hardships of the present life, sought that blessedness which is hoped for. C Just as, therefore, we call a certain defined part of the sea a "bosom" by a certain misuse of language, so it seems to me that the discourse signifies, by the name of "bosom," the indication of those immeasurable goods of ours, into which good "bosom" all who complete the course of this present life through virtue, when they depart from here, anchor their souls as if in a harbor free from the storms of waves, and, having brought them as if to land, cause them to rest. But for the rest, the deprivation and loss of the goods that seem to them to be good becomes a flame that burns the soul, desiring a single drop from the ocean of goods which flow and abound for the saints as a consolation, and failing to obtain it. Even when D you see the tongue, and the eye, and the finger, and the rest of the bodily terms in the discourse about incorporeal beings, you will acknowledge that they have been taken in harmony with the discourse we have already conceived concerning the soul, once you have examined the meaning of the words. For just as the combination of the elements produces the substance of the whole body, so it is likely that the bodily parts also have their being from the same...
A cause, have their nature completed. If, therefore, the soul is present to the elements of the body, which have been dispersed into the totality of things, it will not only recognize the complement of those things which have run together into the whole compound, and be within them; but it will not be ignorant of the specific constitution of each part, by which individual particles of the elements our members are brought to completion.
Therefore, that which is in the whole complement of elements is also in the partial ones is nothing contrary to likelihood. And so, if anyone looks toward the elements in which the individual members of the body exist potentially—thinking that the finger is about the soul itself, and the eye, and the tongue, and all other things after the dissolution of the compound—he will not stray from probability. If, therefore, the individual parts lead the mind away from the bodily interpretation of the narrative, it is likely, surely, that one should not suppose the mentioned "Hades" to be a place so named, but a certain incorporeal state of life, in which we are taught by Scripture that the soul dwells.
But we also learn another doctrine in the narrative concerning the rich man and the beggar, which B has much affinity with the matters already examined. He makes that man who was impulsive and a lover of the flesh—since he saw the inevitability of his own calamity—have concern for those on earth related to him by kin. And when Abraham said that the life of those living in the flesh was not without provision, but that the guidance from the law and the prophets was available to them with authority, he persisted in continuing to beseech the righteous man, so that through the marvelous, the preaching might become persuasive to them, being announced by one who had come back to life from the dead.
C G. What then, I said, is the doctrine in these things? M. Since, he says, the soul of Lazarus is occupied with the things present, and turns itself to none of the things left behind; but the rich man, as if by a certain bird-lime, still clings even after death to the carnal life, which he had not completely cast off even when he ceased to live, but for whom the flesh and blood were still a matter of concern (for by the very fact that he asks that those who were related to him by kin might be freed from evils, it is clear that he [the rich man] was not yet released from the carnal D inclination )
A of affection), through these narratives, he says, we think the Lord teaches that those who live in the flesh ought, as much as possible, by living according to virtue, to be in some way separated and freed from the bond of the flesh, so that after death we may not have need of another death to separate, sift, and purge away the remnants of carnal attachment; but rather, as if the bonds around the soul were broken, its course toward the good might become swift and unimpeded, with no bodily pain drawing it back to itself. For if anyone has completely surrendered his mind to the flesh and is occupied in the desires of the flesh with every movement and activity of the soul, such a person, even if he has escaped outside the flesh, does not depart from its affections and perturbations. Just as those who have dwelt for a long time in more foul-smelling places, even if they should move into pure, sweet, and pleasant air, are not entirely free and clear of that unpleasant and disagreeable odor which they contracted due to their longer stay therein: so B even when the carnal life has been exchanged for the subtle and invisible one, it is not possible that those who love the flesh should not drag along something of that heavy and carnal stench. Whence a heavier pain arises, since from such a circumstance the soul becomes more material.
It seems, however, in some way to harmonize and agree with this opinion that it is frequently said by some that shadow-like phantoms of the dead are seen near tombs and the resting places of bodies. For if this is indeed the case, it is an argument that the soul was, beyond measure, in this life so affected toward the carnal life that it does not wish to fly away from it even when pushed out of the flesh, nor allow a transition to be made to that which cannot be seen and is without form; but after the form has been dissolved, it still remains in the form, and even when it has now passed outside it, it wanders through places of matter out of desire for it, and lingers and hovers around them.
[G] I, having paused a little and taking up again the sense of what had been said, "It seems to me," I said, "that a certain contradiction arises from what has just been said to those things which were previously discussed and examined concerning the passions and perturbations. For if such movements of the soul within us are thought to come to pass from the affinity which exists with irrational creatures, namely those which the argument previously mentioned and enumerated—anger, fear, pleasure, and...
the like. Now, it has been said that the good use of such things is virtue, but that through their erroneous use arises vice. A The argument then added, together with the contribution and assistance of the rest of the passions toward the life lived in accordance with virtue, the fact that through desire we are led upward toward God, being drawn toward Him from below, as if by a kind of chain. It seems, I said, that the argument in some way contradicts itself and opposes its own proposition. — M. In what way, she says, do you claim this? — G. Because, I replied, with every irrational movement being extinguished in us after the purification, the desire-faculty will not exist at all; and with this absent, there would not be any craving for the better, since nothing of that kind of movement would remain in the soul, which serves to arouse it to an appetite for goods. — M. But our response to this, she says, B is that the contemplative and discerning power is the property of that part of the soul which is God-like, since it is through these that we apprehend even the divine majesty. If, therefore, whether by present care and diligence, or by the purgation by fire hereafter, our soul should be freed from that conjunction by which it has grown together and coalesced with the irrational passions, nothing will impede it in the contemplation of the Good and the Beautiful. For the Good is by its own nature something that attracts toward itself everyone who looks toward it. C If, then, the soul were cleansed of every vice, it will certainly be in the Good and the Beautiful. And the Good and the Beautiful is in its own nature the divine majesty, with which the soul, through purity, will have communion, since it is joined and coalescent with its own proper nature.
If, therefore, this should come to pass, there will no longer be need of the movement of desire, which might serve as a leader and guide for us toward that which is good and beautiful. For one who spends his life in darkness desires the light; but if he should come into the light, and begin to enjoy and possess it, he ceases to covet and desire. For the faculty and power of possessing and enjoying makes desire vain and useless. Wherefore, no loss will occur D through these things with regard to the participation in the Good, if the soul returns again to itself, and knowing itself accurately, of what kind it is by nature, and looking—as if in a mirror and an image—through its own beauty toward the Archetype, it should be free from such habits. For in this, indeed, it is truly allowable to say that there is a full and absolute likeness to the Divine, in the imit-
imitating of that Nature which is A in a certain manner above all things and presides over the universe. For the Nature which exceeds all intellect, being situated far from those things that are discerned within us, leads its own life in another manner, not as we now do while we live. For men, because their nature is always, in every respect, in motion, are swept away wherever the impulse of the will inclines; whereas the soul is not similarly affected from its anterior part, as one might say, and from its posterior. For hope truly precedes the movement that tends and progresses further, while memory receives the movement that is advancing toward hope. And if, indeed, hope leads the soul toward that which is by nature good and honorable, the movement of the will imprints a pleasant B trace, as it were, upon the memory; but if there has been an aberration and offense against that which is better and more excellent, when hope has deceived the soul with a certain simulacrum of beauty, and the recollection that follows the accomplished act proves to be in vain, shame is produced. And thus this internal war is kindled in the soul, with memory fighting against hope, because it went before the will in an evil way. For the affect of shame clearly indicates a certain perception of this kind in the mind, when the soul is stung regarding the thing that has happened, being struck, as if by a lash, by repentance—which chastises and attacks the unconsidered and reckless impulse—and drags in forgetfulness as an ally against that which causes grief and gives offense.
But for us, because our nature is destitute C of the good, it is always borne and strives toward that which is lacking, and the desire for that which is deficient is the very affect of concupiscence in our nature, which either strays, on account of a distorted judgment, from that which is truly good and honorable, or even attains and secures that which it is good to possess. But that Nature which exceeds every good conception, and which is superior to every power, as one that is in no way lacking in those things which are conceived as good—this is the fullness of goods, nor is it D without the enjoyment of the goods stored up for the just; remember the things said beforehand.
A nor does the nature of the Good itself, whatever the mind may posit the Good to be, accept within itself the movement of hope. For hope is directed only toward that which is not present. "For what a man sees, why does he yet hope for it?" says the Apostle. Nor has it need of the power of memory for the knowledge of existing things; for that which is seen does not require to be remembered.
Since, therefore, the divine nature is beyond every good, and the good is entirely a friend to the good, it looks into itself; and what it has, it wills, and what it wills, it has, receiving nothing from without into itself. Besides it, there is nothing at all, except only vice, which, if it be paradoxical to say so, has its being in non-being; B for there is no other generation of vice than the privation of Being. But the nature of the Good is what truly Is. Therefore, that which is not in the Existent, is entirely in non-being. Since, then, the soul also, having stripped away all the varied movements of nature, becomes God-like, and having surpassed the desire for that toward which it was formerly impelled by desire, it no longer gives a place in itself for waiting, neither to hope, nor to memory; for it possesses that which was hoped for. C But the preoccupation with the enjoyment of the goods drives memory from the mind; and in this way it imitates the life that is above, being fashioned after the characteristics of the divine nature, so that nothing else is left to it, save the disposition of love, naturally adhering to the Good. For this is love: an inherent relationship toward what is pleasing. When, therefore, the soul, having become simple and uniform and truly God-like, D has found the truly simple and immaterial Good, it attaches itself to that alone which is such as to be loved and desirable, and is mingled with it through the movement and energy of love, fashioning itself according to that which is always being grasped and found; and...
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becoming by the likeness of the good that which is participated in and perceived, it is nature: but since there is no desire in that [which is Divine], for the reason that there is no defect of any good in it, it would follow that the soul also, when it has arrived at that state where there is no lack of any thing, casts out from itself the movement and affection of desire, which exists then only when that which is desired is not present.
B The divine Apostle is the author for us of this doctrinal view, having foretold that there will be a suspension and a certain calming and end for all those things which, as being goods for us, we now zealously pursue, finding no limit only for love and charity. For prophecies, he says, shall be abolished, and knowledge and sciences shall rest and have an end; but charity and love never fail. This is the same as if he had said that it is always the same; and further, although he says that faith and hope remain together with charity and love, he nevertheless rightly prefers and places her before them. For hope is in motion meanwhile, as long as it is not granted to enjoy and possess those things which are hoped for; and likewise faith is a prop and support for the uncertainty of those things which are hoped for. For he thus defined it when he said: "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for." But when that which is hoped for has come, while all other things are at rest, the efficacy of charity and love remains, since it finds nothing to receive it and take its place. Wherefore it also holds the primacy over all actions which are performed according to virtue, and even over the precepts of the Law. C If, therefore, the soul should ever reach this end, it will lack nothing else, inasmuch as it has embraced the plenitude of all things, through which alone it seems in a certain way to preserve within itself the mark of divine blessedness. For *the life of the higher nature is love*, since that which is good is altogether worthy of being loved by those who know it; and it is [the] Divine [Nature] that knows it; and knowledge becomes love. Because that which is known is good by nature, and satiety, which is an outrage, does not attach to what is truly good; and since satiety does not cut off the loving relationship toward the good, the divine life will always be active through love, which is fair by naDture.
It does not have a A limit for its activity in love, since the good itself is not grasped as having an end, so that love might cease together with an end of the good. For the good is bounded only by its opposite; but where the nature is incapable of the worse, the good will [continue to] progress toward what is infinite and boundless. B
Since, therefore, every nature has the power to attract what is akin to it, and the human being is in a way akin and closely related to God, as it bears within itself the likeness of the archetype, it is altogether necessary that the soul should be drawn toward the divine and its own kin. For it is necessary that what is His own should be, in every way and entirely, saved for God. C Now, if the soul happens to be light and unburdened—with no bodily weight pressing upon it—its approach toward the one who draws it becomes pleasant and easy. But if it has been pinned down by the nails of passion D to a relationship with material things, it is likely to undergo something like what happens in the case of earthquakes to bodies pressed and crushed by heaps of earth—let us assume for the sake of argument that they are not only weighed down by the debris, but are also pierced by certain spits or wooden stakes found in the earth. It is likely that bodies in such a state, when they are being pulled out by their kin for the sake of the proper funeral rites, will be torn and mangled, and will suffer all sorts of torments, as the earth and the stakes tear them on account of the force applied to those who are pulling them out.
It seems to me that a similar experience happens to the soul when the divine power, out of philanthropy, pulls its own out from irrational and material ruins. For it is not out of hatred, nor to take vengeance for an evil life—in my opinion—that God inflicts painful conditions upon those who have sinned, He who lays hold of and vindicates and draws to Himself whatever came into existence for His own sake; but rather, while He draws the soul to Himself—the source of all blessedness—for the better end, the painful condition necessarily happens to the one being drawn.
A
And just as those who purify the matter mixed with gold by fire do not only melt what is adulterate in the fire, but of necessity the pure also is melted along with the adulterate, the base, and the corrupt, and when that is consumed, this remains: so too, when wickedness is consumed by the B inextinguishable fire, it is absolutely necessary that the soul which is united with it should also be in the fire, so that the adulterate, material, and fake element which is sown into it may be consumed by the eternal fire. And just as if tenacious mud were plastered deep onto a rope, and then the beginning of the rope were passed through a narrow opening, and someone were to drag the rope violently inward from the end, it is absolutely necessary that the rope should follow the one drawing it, while the mud plaster remains outside the opening due to the violent pulling, being scraped off and rubbed away from the rope, and this becomes the cause for it not to pass through easily, but to suffer a violent stretching from the one pulling it: such a thing, it seems to me, ought also to be thought and understood regarding the soul, in that it is wrapped in material and earthy affections, and labors and is stretched while God pulls what is His own to Himself; but what is alien, because it has in some way grown together with the soul, is violently scraped off and wiped away, and causes sharp and intolerable pains for it. C
— G. Therefore, I said, the divine judgment, as it seems, does not apply torment to those who have sinned out of a primary and principal cause; but, as the argument has shown, it works only for the good, while it separates and removes it from evil and draws it to the communion of blessedness; but the tearing away of the coalition and co-attachment causes pain to the one being drawn.
— M. I also feel the same, said the teacher, and that the measure of the torment and pain is applied according to the quantity of the wickedness that is in each person. For it is not reasonable that the one who has spent so much time in forbidden evils and the one who has fallen into moderate transgressions should be equally tormented and pained in the judgment of the corrupt habit. But according to the quantity of the matter, the painful flame will be kindled either more or less, according to what sustains it. D Therefore, where there is a large amount of material load, it is necessary that the consuming flame should also be greater and longer-lasting upon it; but where there is less of the fuel of the fire mixed in, to that extent it remains below the more intense and sharper energy.
A For it is necessary that evil should at some time be utterly and entirely removed from existence, and, as was said in previous discussions, that what is truly non-existent should not exist at all. For since evil has no nature to exist outside of the will, when all will is set in God, evil will proceed to complete disappearance, leaving no receptacle for its existence.
B G. But what gain or profit, I ask, is there for one who considers how great an evil it is to suffer pain for only a year, if that unbearable torment were to be extended over an infinite interval of time? What consolation is left from the hope of a later release for one whose punishment is measured out over the whole of eternity?
M. Therefore, one must ensure that the soul be preserved entirely and altogether pure and unassociated with the stains of vice; or, if this is utterly impossible due to the passivity of our nature, that the shortcomings in virtue be at least as moderate and as easily curable as possible. For the evangelical teaching C knows of a certain debtor of ten thousand talents, and of five hundred denarii, and of fifty, and of a certain quadrant, which is the smallest thing in coinage; it also knows that the just judgment of God passes through all things, stretching out the necessity of the payment according to the weight of the debt, and overlooking not even the smallest details. And the Gospel says that the payment of debts is not to be made through the settling of money, but that the debtor is delivered to the torturers until, as it says, he pays all that is owed; which is nothing else but to pay the necessary debt through trial, the debt of a participation in painful things—of which, throughout his life, he became a debtor, having, through lack of judgment, chosen and selected the pleasure that is unmixed and devoid of any tempering by its opposite—and thus, having cast off all that is alien to his own nature, which is sin, and having put off the shame of his debts, he may come to be in freedom and boldness. D Freedom is the likeness to and equality with what is sovereign and autonomous, which was at the beginning bestowed upon us by God, but was buried beneath the shame of our debts. Every freedom is, by its nature, one and relates to itself in a way that is proper. Consequently, everything that is free will be fitted to its like; and virtue is free.
A Ergo in this will dwell B whatever shall have been free: for freedom has no master.
But the divine nature is the fountain of all virtue. In this, therefore, will be those who have been freed and liberated from vice, so that, as the Apostle says, God may be all in all. For this expression, which says that God is in all things and instead of all things, seems to me to clearly and plainly confirm the opinion hitherto examined and discussed. For since the life which we pass in the present is required of us in various and manifold ways, and there are many things in which we participate—such as time, air, place, food and drink, as well as garments, the sun, lamps, and many other things necessary for the use of life, none of which is God—the blessedness, however, which is expected, is in need of none of these things. Instead, the divine nature will be everything for us and in place of everything, distributing itself appropriately and fitly to every use and necessity of that life. C And it is plain and manifest from the sacred oracles that God exists as a place for those who are worthy, and a house, and a garment, and food, and drink, and light, and riches, and a kingdom, and whatever can be conceived in the mind or named, which might contribute to and conduce to a good life for us. Furthermore, He who exists as all things also exists in all things. And in this, it seems to me, Scripture teaches the perfect and absolute destruction of vice and wickedness. For if God is to be in all things that exist, then wickedness, of course, will not be in those that exist. For if one were to suppose that it also exists, how will the statement be preserved that God is in all? For the removal of that [wickedness] makes the [presence of God in] all things lacking.
Someone, however, might say: "Not in the same way, but in a very different way." For where shall we place the penalties of punishment, the unquenchable fire, the undying worm, and the like? For I think this division is nothing other than being separated from God. Therefore, God will be in all things, being glorified and worshipped, but for some it will be the enjoyment of the kingdom, and for others the enjoyment of punishment. For if we do not grant this, we shall show the teacher to be in conflict with divine Scripture, with the other Fathers, and indeed with himself. For it is shown elsewhere that he taught eternal punishment, and that sinners have no access to the good things of the righteous. D What then do we say elsewhere? (And in the present dialogue, as we learned in the preceding passages): either the aforementioned things must be understood according to the sense just mentioned, or else these things were inserted by certain corrupters who did not believe the truth, or else the teacher will appear strange, which—to say even this—is absurd. Therefore, in that way, the present things must by all means be abandoned. Read what follows; remember what came before.
A God will be; vice and wickedness, of course, will not be in the nature of things. For if anyone were to posit that vice and wickedness also exist, how could that maxim be maintained which says that God is in all things? For the removal and subtraction of vice and wickedness makes the comprehension of all things imperfect and incomplete. But He who will be in all, will not be in those things that are not.
— G. What, then, ought we to say, I asked, to those who bear calamities and hardships with a small and dejected soul? — M. Let us say to them, the teacher replied, “Oh you, why do you in vain distress and torment yourselves, and why are you offended and vexed at the sequence of the necessary vicissitude of things, B ignorant of the purpose and design to which each thing, handled individually within the universe, is referred—since all things must, by a certain order and sequence, according to the artful wisdom of the Creator and Author, be reconciled and joined to the divine nature? For this reason, rational nature came into existence, so that the wealth of divine goods might not be idle; but, like certain chosen vessels, souls were fashioned by the wisdom that established and constituted the whole universe, so that there might be some container capable of goods, which, by the constant addition of what is poured into it, is always made greater.”
For such is the participation in the divine good, that it makes the one in whom it exists greater and more capable, receiving an addition of power and magnitude into the recipient, so that he who is nourished C ever grows, and never ceases from growing. For since the fountain of goods is continuously and unceasingly gushing forth and flowing, the nature of the participant—because nothing of what is received is excrement or useless, while everything that flows in is added to its own magnitude—becomes at once more apt to attract what is better and more spacious to receive it, both increasing together in turn: the faculty that is nourished growing towards the greater by the abundance of goods, and the nourishing supply overflowing because of the increase of those who are growing. It is therefore likely that they will ascend to such a magnitude, that no limit interrupts and hinders the growth.
Since such things, then, are set before us, are you annoyed if our nature progresses along the ordered and certain path to the goal it has been destined for? For it is not possible to direct our course towards those things otherwise D than if we have shaken off from our soul that which burdens us—I mean this heavy, earthy load—and, having been cleansed and expiated by better care of the sympathy which we had for it in this life, we are able, through purification, to be united and conjoined to what is like ourselves. But if you also have some relationship to this body, and the [loss] of what is beloved grieves you...
reconciled with and joined to a similar [nature]. But if you have any affection even for this body, and it vexes and troubles you that you are separated from what you love, not even this deprives you of hope. For you shall see this bodily garment, which now has been dissolved by death, woven and composed again from the same materials, not in this thick and heavy texture, but with the thread refashioned and perfected into an airy fineness and subtlety, so that what you love may be present with you, and be restored again in a better and more lovable beauty. [G.] And it seems, I said, that the doctrine of the resurrection has, as it were, crept into our discourse from the series and continuation of what has been said, a doctrine about which it does not seem to me one should doubt that it is both true and credible and well-examined from the teaching of the Scriptures; but since the infirmity of the human mind is more confirmed by reasons that we can grasp to believe in something of this kind, it would not be out of place not to leave even this part undiscussed and unexplained. Let us consider, therefore, what should be said.
[M.] And the
Teacher,
she said: Those who are outside of our own philosophy, in various opinions, have touched upon the doctrine of the resurrection in some way or another, B neither fully agreeing with our views, nor entirely straying from such a hope. For some do injury to the human race by such a commonality, defining the same soul to be, in turns, both human and that of an irrational beast; assuming it is clothed with other bodies in succession, and always passing into whatever pleases it—becoming a flying, or swimming, or land animal after a man, and again returning from these to the human nature. Others even extend such madness to bushes, so that they think even an arboreal and wooden life is suitable and appropriate for it. To others, this alone seems the case—namely, that it is always taking another human being from a human, and that human life is always conducted and governed through the same [souls], being now in these, and again in others, the same souls existing forever. C But we think it most prudent, starting from ecclesiastical opinions and decrees, and relying on them as on foundations, to accept only so much of the opinions of those who have philosophized in this way as is enough to show that they agree in some way with the doctrine of the resurrection. For the fact that they say the soul is released D into certain things—this does not altogether disagree with our hoped-for resurrection; for our discourse says that our body is composed of the elements of the world, both now and hereafter, and [it] agrees to some extent with those outside.A For you will not conceive of any other nature for the body outside the course of the elements. It differs, however, only in this, that while we say the same body is again built up around the soul, arranged from the same elements, they think that the soul falls away into other bodies, some rational and [some] irrational, and [some] insensible. Now, it is confessed by them that the construction is from the parts of the world, but there is disagreement in that they do not think it is from the same [elements] which were originally joined to the soul in the life lived in the flesh. Therefore, let it be testified by outside philosophy that the soul being again in a body is not outside the realm of the probable; but it would be time to disperse the unfounded nature of their doctrine, and through that very sequence which emerges for us according to reason, it is clearly possible [to discern] the truth. B What then is the discourse concerning these matters? Those who make the soul migrate into different natures seem to me to confuse the properties of nature; and [to confuse] all things [together], the irrational, the rational, the sensible, and the insensible—if indeed these were to exist in one another, and were not separated from one another by some immutable chain of nature. For to say that the same soul is now rational and intellectual due to such a garment of the body, and again [is] lurking with reptiles, or congregating with birds, or carrying burdens, or feeding on raw flesh, or being submerged, or even shifting into the insensible, taking root and becoming treelike, and sprouting forth extensions of branches, and in these becoming either a flower, or a thorn, or something nutritious or poisonous—it is nothing other than to think that everything is the same, and that there is one nature in existing things mixed together in a certain confused and indistinct communion, with no property separating one thing from another. For he who says that the same thing happens in everything wishes for nothing else than that all things are one, the visible difference in existing things placing no obstacle to the mingling of things that are incompatible; so that there is a necessity, even if one should observe something C of the venomous [animals] and the flesh-eating ones, [to be] of the same nature with D
oneself and kindred to the appearance—and such a one will not look upon hemlock as alien to his own nature, if he sees the human [element] even in plants—and he will not even view the cluster of grapes, which is cultivated for the needs of life, without suspicion. For it too is among things that sprout; and the produce of the ears of corn, by which we are nourished, is also plant-life to us.
B How then will he apply the sickle to the cutting of the ears of corn? How will he crush the cluster of grapes, or dig up the thorn from the field, or pluck the flower, or hunt the birds, or kindle a pyre from wood, when it is unclear whether it is not against kinsmen, or ancestors, or those of the same race that his hand is moved, and through their body either the fire is kindled, or the mixing-bowl is tempered, or food is prepared? For if anyone thinks that the soul of a man becomes some plant or animal through each of these, and no signs are set down by which it may be marked what kind of plant or animal [comes] from a man, and what kind [comes] from that which is formed otherwise, he who has adopted such a persuasion will be affected and disposed toward all things equally and in the same way, so that, of necessity, he must either be harsh and cruel even toward those men who live in the world, or, if by nature he is inclined and prone to humanity toward relatives and fellow-citizens, he must be affected in the same way toward every living thing, whether it be among reptiles or among wild beasts. Yea, even if he who has embraced this doctrine should come into a forest of trees, he will think the trees to be a C gathering and assembly of men. What kind of way of life, then, is that of him who, through the kinship and proximity he thinks to exist, is pious, dutiful, and solicitous toward all things, or else, because he thinks there is no difference between them and other things, is harsh, cruel, inhuman, and undutiful toward men? Therefore, as it appears from what has already been said, such a speech and doctrine must be rejected, as many other things also rightfully lead us away from such an opinion. For I have heard from those who hand down such things that they posit that certain nations of souls exist in some peculiar state before they arrive at bodily life, living in their subtle and agile nature D together with the revolution and cycle of the universe, and that, through some inclination toward wickedness, the feathers of the souls fall off, and they come into a body—firstly into men, and in this way, through the intercourse of the passions toward irrational things, they degenerate along with the human life, and thence, down to this natural and senseless [state of]
plant-like life, they are led, so that a nature that is fine and agile, as the soul is, first becomes heavy and downward-tending when it settles into human bodies through vice; then, when its faculty of reason is extinguished, it lives among irrational creatures; and from there, even the grace of the senses 99 being removed, it partakes of this senseless life which is in plants; but from this point, again, it ascends through the same stages and is restored to the heavenly 1 place.
But such a doctrine is immediately refuted by those who examine it even with moderate judgment, as having 2 no stability within itself B. For if the soul, because of vice 3, is dragged down from the heavenly life into a wood-like life, and from this again ascends through virtue to the heavenly [life], their argument is found to be at a loss as to what it considers preferable 5, whether the wood-like or the heavenly life. For it is a kind of cycle 4 through similar paths, with the soul always being unstable, wherever it may be. For if it falls down from the incorporeal life to the corporeal, and from this to the senseless; but from there, again, ascends to the incorporeal, there is nothing else supposed by those who teach these things than an indistinct C confusion of evils and goods. For neither will the heavenly manner of life remain in bliss, if vice takes hold 9 of those living there 8; nor will the trees be devoid 10 of virtue, if they think the soul returns from there to the good, while from the other state it begins 11 according to vice. For if the soul, while mingling in the heaven 12, is entangled with vice, and having been dragged down through this into the material life, is pushed up again from there to the life on high, then the inverse is established by them, namely, that the material life is a purging of vice 13, but that the unerrant revolution D is for souls the leader and cause of evils, if indeed from there they grow wings through virtue and traverse the heights 15, but from there 16, because of vice, as the wings fall off, they become earth-bound 17 and prostrate, being mingled with the density of the material nature. And the absurdity of such doctrines does not stop even there, by reason of the fact that their suppositions are inverted 18 to the contrary. But not even
this imagination and opinion of theirs remains permanently certain and stable. For if they say that the celestial nature is immutable, how has passion and affection any place in the immutable? And if the lower nature is subject to passions, how is it that the state of passionlessness is achieved in that which is subject to passion? But they mingle B the unmingled, and join together the incompatible, imagining immutability in passion, and again the abolition and voidance of passions and affections in that which is mutable. Nor do they remain and persevere even in these things; but they lead the soul back to that place from which they had brought it down through vice and wickedness, as if into a safe and immortal life, removing it from the material, as if forgetting that, burdened by its own viciousness, it had fallen from thence and become commingled with the lower nature, as if having lost its wings.
Therefore, the defamation and abuse of this life, and B the praise of the celestial and higher things, are confounded and mingled together with one another; for the life that is ill-spoken of and labors under infamy is, according to their opinion, the author and leader of what is good; while that which is esteemed as the better C gives the soul the handle and occasion for its inclination to the worse. Wherefore, every false and unstable persuasion concerning such matters must be cast out from the doctrine of truth; and let us not follow those who maintain that souls pass from female bodies to a male life, or conversely, that souls separated from male bodies are brought into women, or that souls even pass to men from men, and that women come to be from women; but let us dismiss those who have strayed from the truth. For the former opinion is rejected not only because it is C unstable and deceitful, seeing that it is overturned by its own contradictory opinions, but also because it is impious, as it teaches that nothing is produced in the nature of things unless viciousness is the principle of each nature. For if neither men, nor plants, nor cattle are born unless an anima has fallen into them from above, and this fall occurs because of viciousness, then they certainly hold that vice and wickedness precede the creation of things. And both happen at one and the same time, in a certain manner, that a human being is begotten through nuptials, and the fall of the soul with the study of the nuptials
A to coincide. And what is still more absurd than this is if most creatures of the irrational nature couple and join in the spring. B Can it be said, then, that spring is also implanted in the revolution above, producing wickedness, so that it happens that souls are at once filled with evil and fall, and the wombs of irrational animals conceive? But what would someone say concerning the farmer who plants the cuttings of plants into the earth? How does his hand bury the human soul together with the plant, while the shedding of feathers [wings] concurs with the human impulse toward planting? The same absurdity, then, applies to the other of the arguments, [namely] to believe that the soul busies itself with the unions of the living in cohabitation, or watches for the time of childbirth, so that it may slip into the bodies that are being born. But if the man were to refuse marriage, and the woman were to free herself from the necessity of pains, would not wickedness burden the soul? Marriage, therefore, gives the occasion for the evil above against the souls, or even without this, the affection against what is contrary invades the soul. Wherefore, the soul will wander without a home in the midst, and be a vagabond, having flowed down from heavenly things, but having missed the body [as a place] for reception in such a way. Then also, how will they, by these means, imagine that the divine presides over existing things, when they attribute the origins of human life to this accidental and irrational fall of souls? For it is absolutely necessary that the origin and the things following it should be in harmony. For if life began from some accidental chance, its course and end will all be likewise, C accidental. And in vain do such people attach existing things to the divine power, those who say that things in the world do not come into being by the divine will, but refer the origins of generation to some evil chance, as if human life could not have been constituted unless evil gave the occasion for life. If, therefore, the origin of life is such, then the things that follow, obviously, will also be moved according to the origin. For no one would say that good comes from evil, nor the opposite from the good. But we expect the fruits according to the nature of the seed. Therefore, this automatic and accidental movement leads the whole of life, with no providence passing through existing things D at all. And the prudence that rests upon reasoning will be altogether useless; and there will be no reward for virtue, and to be separate from evil would be for nothing.
A For all things will rest entirely upon what is carrying them, and life will in no way differ from ships B lacking a captain, or devoid of rigging, which by fortuitous accidents, like certain waves, are shifted and carried now toward one, now toward another, outcome of good or evil things, by chance. For there can be no gain resulting from virtue for those whose nature has its origin from opposites. For if our life is governed by God, it will no longer be possible to doubt that wickedness does not preside over our life. But if we are born through evil and wickedness, we shall live deeply and entirely in a vicious and wicked manner. Wherefore, arguments concerning judgments after this life, and compensation and reward according to merit, and whatever else is said and believed for the removal of wickedness, will be shown to be trifles and ravings. For how is it possible for a man who is born through wickedness to be free from wickedness? And how, too, B could any impulse toward a life of virtue arise in a man, if his nature has, as they say, its origin from wickedness? For just as none of the brute animals attempts to speak in the manner of humans, but, using the voice that is innate and natural and in which they have been nurtured, they think they suffer no loss if they are devoid of speech and language, in the same way also those who think that vice and wickedness are the origin and cause of life could not be led to desire virtue, as being something outside their nature. But, indeed, for all those whose soul has been purified by reasoning, the life according to virtue is an object of zeal and desire. Does it not, therefore, C clearly demonstrate through these things that wickedness is not older than life, nor did nature have its first origins from thence, but that the wisdom of God, which administers and governs the whole nature of things, is the author and cause of our life? And when the soul has come into existence in the manner pleasing to the Creator, then, by its own authority, it chooses what it wills according to its judgment, and through the power of choice, becomes what it wills. We may learn the rationale from the example of the eyes, for which vision is from nature, but the failure to see is from free choice or even from passion. For it may sometimes happen that what is contrary to nature takes the place of nature, either by someone voluntarily closing the eye, D or by the sight being lost through passion. Thus one may say that for the soul also, its constitution is from God, and since no wickedness is conceived as belonging to the Divine, it exists outside the necessity of wickedness; yet, having come to be in this way, it is led by its own judgment toward what seems good—either closing its eye to the good through choice, or having its eye harmed by the machinations of the war that dwells with our life, and through that of deceit
A living in darkness, or on the contrary, clearly looking toward the truth, becoming far removed from dark passions.
When, therefore, will someone say it comes into being, and how? But the inquiry regarding "how" each thing has come to be must be entirely removed from our discourse. For it is not possible for investigative reasoning to understand how that which appears came into existence, even regarding those things that are easy for our understanding, of which we have perception through the senses, in such a way that even for men who are inspired by God and holy, such a thing is thought to be graspable. For "by faith we understand," says the Apostle, "that the ages have been framed by the word of God, so that things seen were not made of things which do appear." He would not have said this, I think, if he believed that the matter being sought could be known through logical reasoning. Rather, he says that the Apostle testifies to his belief that both the age itself and all that has come to be within it (whatever this age may be, along with which all visible and invisible creation is contemplated) were framed by the divine will, but he left the "how" unexamined. For I do not think such a thing is attainable for those who search, since the question regarding these things presents us with many difficulties: how that which is moved [comes] from that which is stable; B or how that which is dimensional and composite [comes] from that which is simple and without dimensions? Is it from that very transcendent essence? But reason does not acknowledge the existence of things as being of a different kind from it, nor from some other source. And yet, reason sees nothing outside of the divine nature. For the opinion would be split into diverse principles if anything were thought to exist outside the creating cause, from which the artistic wisdom might borrow and collect the preparations for creation. Since, then, the cause is among the things that exist, yet the things produced into generation through it are not of the same kind as the transcendent nature; C and since there is, on each side, an absurdity in the notions supposed—both to think that creation is from the nature of God, and that all things exist from some other essence (for either the Divine will be suspected of being in the properties of creation, if the things that came to be hold a homogeneous relation to God; or some material nature will be set up outside the divine essence) D [to be...]
compared with Him, [p. 124] which, by reason of its unbegotten property, would be made equal to the eternity of Him who IS; a notion which the Manichaeans in fact imagined, and some of those who followed Greek philosophy, carried away by the same suppositions, have made a dogma of this fantasy. B
In order, then, that we may most effectively flee and avoid the absurdity that exists on both sides in the inquiry concerning the universe, let us omit to explore and scrutinize, after the example of Paul, the manner in which each thing was created, pointing out only in passing that the impulse of the divine will and purpose becomes, whenever He wills [it], a thing, and the counsel is reduced to essence and effect, immediately becoming a nature, because whatever the divine power may wisely and artfully will, it does not allow that will to be vain, ineffectual, and without effect. The existence, moreover, and the substance of the will is essence. Since, however, the universe of things is divided in two—into the intellectual (which consists of the mind alone and is intelligent, and is perceived and understood by mind and intelligence alone) and the corporeal—the creature of intellectual things does not seem in any way to depart from or be different from the nature of the incorporeal, but rather to be akin to it, since it shows itself to be invisible, intangible, and indivisible C, by the fact that it is close to it. And anyone who suspects this also concerning the supreme nature will not be in error.
But when the corporeal creature is viewed and considered among those properties which have no communion with the divine Numen, and especially when it generates that great difficulty and perplexity for the reason—which reason cannot discern and perceive, namely, how that which is seen came to exist out of the invisible? how that which escapes the touch [came to be] solid and hard; out of the indefinite, the definite; out of that which is devoid of quantity and magnitude, that which is entirely contained by certain measures, which are understood through quantity? And all other things which are comprehended individually concerning the corporeal nature, regarding which we say only thus much: that none of the things concerning the body is body by itself—neither shape, nor color, D nor weight, nor interval, nor magnitude, nor any other thing of those considered under the category of quality, but each of these is a concept (λόγος); but the concourse of these with one another and their union becomes a body. Since, then, the complementary qualities of the body are apprehended by the mind and not by sense, while the divine is intellectual, what labor is it to work out the concepts of the intelligible things, from the concourse of which with one another the nature of the body was generated for us? But these things indeed are outside the
A topic, and have been casually examined, explained, and sifted. The question, however, was B whether souls existed before bodies, and were brought into the nature of things, and when and how they exist; and therefore our discourse passed over the curious investigation and scrutiny of how these things exist, as something it could not track down or resolve. It remains, then, according to those things we have previously examined, to inquire when souls have the principles of their origin and existence. For if it were granted that the soul lives in a peculiar station before the body, it would be entirely necessary to believe that those absurd opinions and invented notions of those who want souls to be led into bodies on account of a defect have force. Indeed, no one endowed with a sound mind could conceive that the origin of souls is later, and that they themselves are more recent than the composition of bodies, since it is manifest and clear to all that nothing inanimate has in itself the power of moving and growing. Yet as for those who are nourished in the womb, neither their growth and increase, nor their movement from place to place is a matter of doubt or ambiguity. C It remains, therefore, that we think that there is one and the same principle of the constitution of both soul and body. And just as the earth, if it receives from farmers a shoot torn away from a root, produces a tree from it—not by injecting the power of growth into what is being nourished, but only by supplying the material and support for increase to what is set before it—so we also say that what is torn away from a man for the sake of sowing a man is itself in some way a living thing, being from a living thing and living, being nourished from that which is nourished. But if the smallness of the torn-away shoot could not contain all the energies and movements of the soul, it is no wonder. For neither in the grain of wheat, for what appears indeed, is there immediately an ear (for how could so great a thing be contained in so small a thing?), but when the earth nourishes it with suitable and appropriate food, the grain becomes an ear, not changing its nature in the soil, D but emerging and manifesting itself, and rendering itself absolute and perfect by the aid of nutriment. Just as, therefore, in the production of seeds, growth proceeds according to reason toward an end; in the same way also, in the case of
A human formation and constitution, the power of the soul appears and shines forth in proportion to the physical magnitude, first indeed by the nutritive and augmentative power becoming present in those things which are being fashioned within. After these, it introduces the faculty of sensation to those who have come into the light, and then, just as in a fruit, when the plant has already grown to a moderate degree, it reveals the rational power, not all at once in its fullness, but increasing by degrees along with the growth of B the plant through a consequent progression. Since, therefore, that which is detached from living beings for the purpose of an animate constitution cannot be dead (for death occurs through the privation of soul; but privation does not precede the habit), we perceive from these things that the entry and approach to existence is made common to the joining and coalition which consists and coalesces from both [body and soul], neither being prior, nor the other supervening later.
Moreover, reason necessarily foresees that the increase in the number of souls will at some point stop and progress no further, lest nature should flow forever, always streaming into those that exist one after another, and never ceasing from this motion. We consider the cause of why our nature too must at some point become stable to be this: because every nature that eludes the senses and is comprehended by the mind alone consists in its own complement and fullness; it is therefore probable and fitting that the human race should also at some point arrive at its end—for it is not C alien to that nature which is discerned not by sense but by mind—lest it should be thought always to be seen in a state of deficiency. For the constant addition of one thing after another argues that the nature is imperfect. When, therefore, the human race has reached its fullness, this flowing motion of nature will altogether cease, having attained its necessary end, and another status will succeed life, different from that which is now required by turn through generation and corruption. For where there is no birth and generation, it is altogether necessary that there should not be that which dies and is corrupted. For if composition precedes dissolution (and by composition we mean the approach through generation), it follows entirely that, with no composition preceding, neither does dissolution follow. Therefore, a certain stable life, exempt from dissolution, is prefigured as the one to come after this one, which is not changed D either by birth or by death.
A I, however, when this teacher had finished, since to the many who were sitting by it seemed that the discourse had reached its fitting end, fearing that—if something human were to happen to the teacher from her illness (which indeed also happened)—there would no longer be anyone to resolve for us the objections brought against us by outsiders concerning the resurrection, I said: "The discourse has not yet touched upon that which is most proper and essential, and which pertains most to the matter among those things which are sought concerning this teaching and doctrine." B For the divinely inspired Scripture, according to both the new and old teaching, says that at some point, when our nature has run its course according to a certain order and sequence by the transient motion of time, this rushing stream—which advances through the succession of those who come into being—will cease; and as the completion of the universe no longer admits of any further increase, the entire fullness of souls will return again from an invisible and scattered state to that state in which it can be gathered, stand stable, appear, and be beheld, with the same elements having again returned to one another by the same sequence. Such a state of life is called "resurrection" by the Scriptures of divine doctrine, with the restoration of that which is earthy, and as involving the entire motion of the elements. C M. "What then," she says, "of these things is left unmentioned in what has been said?" G. "The dogma of the resurrection itself," I said. M. "And yet," she says, "many of the things that have now been spoken of at length contribute to this goal." G. "Are you not aware," I said, "how great a swarm of objections is brought against us by those who oppose us with respect to this hope?" And at the same time I attempted to tell of all the things that are devised by contentious men for the subversion of the resurrection. M. "But," she says, "it seems to me that it is necessary first to run through, in a few words, those things which are scattered here and there by divine Scripture concerning this doctrine, so that from there the finishing touch may be applied to our discourse. I have heard, therefore," she says, "David singing praises in divine songs, when, having taken as his subject the arrangement of the universe, in the one hundred and third Psalm, near the end of the ode, he says this: 'You will take away their spirit, and they will fail, and they will return to their dust. You will send forth Your Spirit, and they shall be created, and You will renew' D
the face of the earth.' A Since he says that the power of the Spirit acts in all things, both to bring to life those in whom it comes to be, and to withdraw life from those it leaves, and since he therefore says that the failing of living things follows the withdrawal of the Spirit, and the renewal of those who have failed follows His arrival and presence; and since, in the order of the prayer, the "failing" precedes those who are being "renewed," we say that by this very thing the mystery of the resurrection is proclaimed to the Church, with the prophetic Spirit having announced this grace through David. And yet, elsewhere, this same Prophet says that the God of the universe, the Lord of all things, appeared to us in order that we might establish our feast among those who cover and adorn, indicating the feast of the tabernacles' fixing by such a expression—that is, of covering and adorning and composition; a thing which had been instituted long ago by the tradition of Moses, with the lawgiver, I think, prophetically foretelling the things to come; yet although it was always being celebrated, it had not yet come to pass. For the truth was indeed being pre-signified typically and figuratively through the enigmas and wrappings of the things that were happening; but the true feast of the tabernacles’ fixing did not yet exist. But for this reason, according to the prophetic word, the God of all and Lord revealed Himself to us, so that the "tabernacle-fixing" of our dissolved human nature might be established, being again corporally covered B through the assembling and concurrence of the elements. For the word for "covering" signifies by its own inherent meaning the garment and the adornment resulting from it.
The diction of the psalmody, moreover, stands in this way: 'The Lord is God, and He has appeared to us in order to establish a feast among those who cover up to the horns of the altar.' This seems to me to fore-announce by an enigma—that is, by the wrappings and, as it were, the integuments of words—that one feast is to be established for all rational creation, with those of lower rank dancing in a festival and assembly of good things together with those who are preeminent and excellent. For since, in the typical construction of the temple, it was not permitted C to all who were outside to enter within the circuit of the walls, but all who were Gentiles and of another race and nation were barred from entering; and again, among those who had entered, not all had an equal right to the inner place, unless they had been purified by a certain purer way of life and by certain sprinklings—and, furthermore, even among these same ones, the inner temple was not accessible to all, but D
only to those priests A who by necessity were to engage in the liturgy within the veil. The hidden and inmost part of the temple, in which the altar was situated, adorned with certain projections like horns, was inaccessible even to those priests, except for the one who was appointed to the priesthood, who, B once a year, on a lawful day, entered alone to offer a more secret and mystical liturgy. Since, therefore, there was such a difference concerning this temple—in that it was a type and image of that spiritual state—this teaches through bodily observation that not every rational nature approaches the temple of God (that is, the confession of the great God); but those who are led astray by false opinions are excluded from the divine enclosure. C But of those who have been admitted within through this confession, those who are preferred to others—those who are purified beforehand by sprinklings and acts of purity—and of these, those who have already been consecrated, have something more, so that they are deemed worthy of the inner mysteries, as one might lead the meaning of the enigma to a clearer light. It is possible to learn these things from the teaching of the discourse: that among the rational powers, some are as the holy altar, established in the inmost sanctuary of the Divinity; D others again are seen in the preeminence of these same ones, projecting like horns; and others, according to a certain order of succession, precede those—the vice that is produced being thrust outside the divine enclosure, which, having been purified by the sprinkling bath, is brought within. But since the time will come when these barriers that follow will be dissolved, through which vice has walled us off from the things within the veil, when our nature is again fixed like a tabernacle through the resurrection, and all corruption produced by vice is wiped away from among existing things, then will the common feast concerning God be established for those covered by the resurrection, so that one and the same joy is set before all. No longer will any difference in the participation of the equal—which cuts off the rational nature—exist, but those who are now outside because of vice will at some point come within the inmost sanctuaries of the divine blessedness, and will attach themselves to the horns of the altar, that is, to the transcendent powers that project.
A This, indeed, the Apostle states more clearly, interpreting the harmony and concord of the entire creation towards the Good, in that to Him every knee shall bow, of those in heaven, and of those on earth, and of those under the earth, and every tongue shall confess that the Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father. By the "horns" he signifies the angelic and heavenly race, while by the "rest" he signifies the creation understood after them—namely us—who shall all be occupied in one concordant and consentient feast. For a feast is the confession and recognition of Him who truly Is.
He says, furthermore, that many other passages of Holy Scripture may be gathered for the recommendation and confirmation of the doctrine and judgment which is held to be certain and stable concerning the resurrection. For Ezekiel, too, by the prophetic spirit, transcending all the time that lies in the middle and the interval that intervenes, stands upon the very article and point of the resurrection with the power of foreknowledge, and seeing the future as if it were present, he places it before his eyes in his narrative. B For he saw a vast field, stretched out to infinity and immensity, and upon it a great heap and pile of bones, some here and some there, scattered by chance; these were then, by Divine power, moved together toward their kindred and proper parts, and were fastened to their own fitting joints; after this they were covered and clothed with nerves, flesh, and skins (which the psalmody calls covered—or it is said, "they were formed and compressed by the word"), and then the vivifying spirit, at once, raised up everything that lay there.
Moreover, why should one trouble to explain the description of the miracles which the Apostle points out concerning the resurrection, as it is ready, easy, and at hand for those who read—namely, how the Scripture says, with a certain exhortation and the sound of trumpets, that in a moment of time all the dead who are lying there will suddenly be changed into the state of an immortal nature? I shall also omit the evangelical utterances, as they are manifest to all. For the Lord does not say that the dead will rise by word alone, but He even represents and performs the resurrection itself. Starting from those things which are closer to us and less capable of being disbelieved, C what then should one say regarding the Apostle’s preparation of the miracles concerning the resurrection, as it is ready for those who encounter it? How, as the word says, at a certain summons in the sound of trumpets, in an atom of time, would everything dead and lying there be changed into an immortal nature? But we have also passed over the angelic voices, as being manifest to all. For the Lord, he says, does not just say that the dead will rise, but He also effects the resurrection itself, commencing from those things that are nearest to us and less capable of being doubted of His wonder-working power. First, indeed,
A in deadly diseases He demonstrates His life-giving power, driving away afflictions by command and word. Then, He raises a child who had just died, and then a young man, who was already being carried to the tomb, whom He raises from the bier and gives to his mother. After this, He brings forth from the tomb Lazarus, who had died four days before and was already decomposing and putrid, quickening the one lying there by His voice and command. Then, He raises His own human body, pierced by nails and a spear, on the third day, bringing forward the marks of the nails and the wound of the spear as testimony to the resurrection. Regarding these things, I think there is no need to speak further, lest any doubt should arise in the minds of those who have already accepted what has been demonstrated.
B G. "But this," I said, "was not the question; for that the resurrection will one day be, and that man will be subjected to impartial judgment—to this, most of those who hear will give their assent, both because of the scriptural demonstrations and because of those things that have already been examined and discussed. It would remain, however, to consider whether what is to be hoped for will be as it is now. For if it were truly so, I would say that the hope of resurrection is to be shunned by men. For if, such as they become when human bodies cease from living, they are restored again to life, then surely some endless calamity is to be expected by men through the resurrection. For what more miserable spectacle could there be than when, in extreme old age, bodies that are bent and contracted are brought to such shameful and ugly states, with the flesh itself consumed by time, and the skin wrinkled and dry, adhering to the bones? And the nerves being contracted because they are no longer moistened by natural moisture, and because of this the whole body being drawn together, a weak and pitiable sight is presented, as the head is bowed to the knees, while the hands, on either side, are useless for their natural function, and always, because of trembling, shake and move against one's will. And what, again, of those bodies of people who have wasted away from long and chronic illnesses? Which differ from bared bones only in that they seem to be covered by a thin and already consumed skin. And what of those in the C
as those whose skin has worn thin and is now consumed. What, moreover, of those who have swollen with dropsy? And what discourse could adequately set before the eyes the unseemly loss and injury of those seized by the sacred disease, whose every organ and sensory member is gradually consumed by the encroaching decay? And what need is there to speak of what the bodies will be like of those who, in earthquakes A or wars or for some other cause, have been mutilated and have continued to live for some time after that received calamity before their death, or of those who, from birth, have grown up with distorted limbs damaged by some adverse mishap, and have reached perfect maturity?
De modo genitis autem infantibus:
Concerning infants who are born, and who are either exposed, or suffocated, or perish by some accidental cause, what are we to think?
If such as these were to be brought back to life again, would they remain in infancy—and what could be more miserable?—or will they reach the peak of maturity, and with what milk will nature nurse them again? Therefore, if the very same body that we have is to revive again in every respect, then what is expected is a calamity and a hardship; but if it is not the same, then he who is raised up and resurrected will be a different person than he who lies dead. For if an infant lay down, but a man of perfect age rises, or conversely, how can we say that he who was lying there has been awakened and has risen, since, as regards the difference of age, he who died has been changed? For if one sees an adult instead of a child, and one in the vigor and prime of life instead of an old man, B one sees one person in place of another; and instead of one mutilated and suffering from some defect, one in integrity and health; and instead of one wasted by emaciation, one who is corpulent; and similarly in all other respects—lest, by wishing to recount all things one by one, one should induce annoyance and weariness in the discourse. If, therefore, such a body does not revive as it was when it was committed to the earth, it will not be that which died that rises, but the earth will be formed again into a different human being. What interest, then, does the resurrection have for me, if someone else is to revive in my stead? For by what reasoning shall I recognize myself, if I do not see myself in myself? For I shall not truly be I, unless I am in all respects the same as myself. For just as, in the present life, if I should hold the figure of someone in my memory, let it be supposed for the sake of argument that such a person is bald, has a hooked nose, is snub-nosed C, pale-skinned, gray-eyed, with hoary hair and wrinkled body—and then I seek for myself—clearly, it is not a little of the substance of our body, but both states come from alteration: the one from the alteration of food, in the nerve as nerves, and in the bone as bones; the other from the alteration of all the fluids and solid bodies within us through the innate heat, as they are constantly being changed and thus transformed. DA For instance, I might encounter a young man, curly-haired, hook-nosed, dark-skinned, and having in every other respect a different physical appearance. If I saw him, would I suppose he is the same person? Or rather, why should one spend time on the minor objections when a stronger one is set aside? Who does not know that human nature resembles a current, always proceeding from birth to death through a certain motion, and ceasing its motion only when it also ceases from being?
This motion is not a displacement from place to place (for nature does not go outside itself), but it has its progression through alteration. But alteration, as long as it is what it is called, never remains the same B (for how could that which is being altered be preserved in identity?), but just as with fire on a wick, to the appearance it seems always the same (for the continuity of the motion shows it to us as unbroken and unified with itself), yet in truth it is always entirely succeeding itself and never remains the same (for the moisture drawn up by the heat is at once inflamed and, having been burned up, is transformed into soot; and the motion of the flame is always acting by its altering power, changing the underlying substance into soot C through itself). Just as in these cases, it is not possible to touch the flame twice in the same way (for the swiftness of the alteration and change does not wait for the one who touches it a second time, even if he does so as quickly as possible), but the flame is always new and fresh, always coming into being and always succeeding itself, and never remaining the same. Something of this kind is true also regarding the nature of our body. For the influx and efflux D of our nature, proceeding always through the altering motion, stops moving only when it also ceases from life; but as long as it is in life, it has no standstill. For it is either being filled, or is exhaling, or is being constantly thoroughly conducted through both. If, therefore, a man is not even the same as he was yesterday, but becomes another through the departure, when the resurrection again brings back our body to life, a sort of multitude of humans will indeed be the one, so that nothing of the one being raised might be missing—the infant, the young child, the boy, the adolescent, the man, the father, the old man, and all intermediate stages. And since temperance and intemperance are being practiced through the flesh, and the...
A severe and bitter punishments are endured by those who do so for the sake of piety, while others again are softened toward these things through bodily sense, both of these being demonstrated—how is it possible that justice should be preserved in the judgment? Or, if the same person has sinned at one time, and later has purified himself through repentance, and perhaps has even fallen back into sin and wrongdoing, and since the body has been changed through the vicissitude of nature, being now defiled and now empty of defilement, and neither of these states has endured forever, what kind of body will be punished along with the intemperate and incontinent person? Will it be the one that was contracted and bent in old age near death? But this would be B something different from that which committed the sin, or that which was defiled by the passion. And where is the old man? For either he will not rise again, and the resurrection will not be realized or brought to effect, but will be ineffectual; or he will rise, and the subject will escape the judgment and punishment, being liable and subject.
I shall state something else also from those things which are brought forward against us by those who do not accept this doctrine. Nothing, they say, of the parts and members of the body has nature made idle and without some duty and use. For some C contain within us the cause and power of living, without which it is impossible that our life in the flesh should consist, such as the heart, liver, brain, lungs, stomach, and the rest of the viscera; others are allotted to sensory motion; others are for the faculty of outward action and locomotion; others are suitable and adapted for the succession of posterity. If, therefore, we were to live the life that comes after this through the same members, the change and translation would be to no purpose. But if the account is true (as indeed it is true), which determines that there is neither marriage to be practiced in the life after the resurrection, nor is the life that is to be nourished by food and drink, D then what will be the use of the parts of the body, since those things for which we now have members are no longer expected in that life? For if the members that belong to marriage are for the sake of marriage, when it does not exist, neither do we have need of what is prepared for it. Thus, the hands are for work, the feet for running, the mouth for the reception of food, the teeth for the service of nutrition, the viscera for digestion, and the exit-passages for the expulsion of waste. When, therefore, these things do not exist, how will those things that come into being for their sake [continue to be? ... ]
If, indeed, the bodies should be superfluous, being destined to contribute nothing to that life, and none of the things that now compose our body should exist (for life will be in other things), would anyone still call such a thing a resurrection, when the individual members, because of their uselessness to that life, do not rise together with the body? But if, on the other hand, the resurrection is to be manifest A through all these things, then He who effects the resurrection will be creating things that are vain and useless for us in that life. Yet we must believe that the resurrection both exists and is not in vain. Therefore, we must diligently apply our mind to the argument, so that in every respect the probable and consistent view of this doctrine may be preserved for us.
M. After I had explained these things: "Quite nobly and illustriously," said the teacher, "have you approached and addressed the B doctrine of the resurrection according to the art which is called rhetoric, and you have sought to encompass the truth with refutatory words and arguments so plausibly that it would not be strange if those who have not sufficiently contemplated and discerned the mystery of the truth were to be moved in some way by those words and arguments because of their plausibility and verisimilitude, and were to think that the doubt introduced against what has been said is neither absurd nor irrational. But the truth, she said, is not so, even if we are unable, through similar arguments, to fulfill the office of an orator in this discussion; but the true reason for these things is stored up and preserved in the hidden and secret treasuries of wisdom, to come into the open and the light C when we have learned by experience the mystery of the resurrection, when we shall no longer have any need of words for the manifestation of those things which are hoped for. But just as when many questions are raised by those who pass the night in vigil concerning the radiance of the sun, what it is like, the beauty of its rays appearing only from afar frustrates them, and makes the proposed discussion vain, idle, and useless: in the same way, every argument that touches upon the future state through conjectures will be shown to be as nothing, when we have experienced in reality that which is awaited. D Since, however, the objections brought against us from the opposite side must not be left altogether unexamined, we shall grasp the argument concerning these matters in this way. We must first understand what the aim of the doctrine concerning the resurrection is, and for what reason this has been spoken by the holy voice and believed. Therefore, just as one might define and outline such a thing in a certain formula, we shall speak thus—
A resurrection is the restoration of our nature to its ancient state. But in the first life, of which God Himself was the Creator, there was neither old age, as is probable and likely, nor infancy, nor the passions that come from manifold infirmities, nor anything else of bodily affliction (for it was neither likely nor fitting that God should create such things), but human nature was a certain divine thing before the human race began to desire vice. All these things, however, invaded and rushed into us B at the entry of wickedness. Therefore, a life void of wickedness will in no way need to undergo those things which have come about on account of it.
For just as it happens to one traveling through frost and ice that his body suffers from the cold, or to one walking through hot rays that his face and the surface of his skin are scorched and darken; but if one were outside of either of these, he is immediately and entirely freed from scorching and refrigeration, and no one would reasonably seek that which happens from a certain cause when the cause itself does not exist: in the same way, our nature, having become subject to passions, vices, perturbations, and affections, was afflicted with those things that necessarily follow a life capable of suffering. But when it has returned to that blessedness which is free from perturbations, vices, and passions, it will no longer be afflicted by those things which follow wickedness. C Since, therefore, whatsoever was mixed into human nature from the irrational life was not in us before the human race had fallen through wickedness into affection and perturbation, we shall necessarily, by leaving behind the affection, also leave behind all things that are observed along with it. Thus, no one would reasonably look for in that life the things that have happened to us later on account of affection and vice. For just as if someone clothed in a ragged tunic were to be stripped of that garment, he would no longer see upon himself the shame and disgrace of the cast-off clothing: in the same way, when we also have stripped off that dead and shameful tunic, which was fitted upon us from the hides of irrational creatures (by "hide," I think, we are to understand the form of the irrational nature, in which, having become akin D to passion, we were clothed), we shall cast off along with the shedding of the tunic all those things that were around us from the irrational hide. There are, however, things which it took on from the irrational hide: the mixing, the conception, the birth, the filth, the breast, the nourishment, the...
gradual progress toward adult and perfect age, the highest vigor of life, old age, disease, death. If, therefore, that hide will not be around us, how will A that which came from it remain in us? Thus, since a different state is hoped for in the future life, if anyone opposes the doctrine of the resurrection by means of things that have nothing in common with that life, he will labor in vain and to no purpose.
For what do crookedness and corpulence, emaciation and wasting, and an abundance of humors, and whatever else befalls the fluid nature of bodies, have in common with that life B which is alien to the way of the flowing and transitory life? The doctrine of the resurrection seeks one thing only: that a human being, brought into existence through birth—or rather, as the Gospel says, that a human being born into the world—should exist. But to inquire alongside the doctrine of the resurrection about the longevity or the quickness of death, or the mode of death and whether it happened in this way or another, is futile and has nothing to do with the matter. For however we concede that this might be, the result is in every way the same, and there is no difference with regard to the resurrection, neither in difficulty C nor in ease. For he who has begun to live must absolutely live, since the dissolution which happened to him in the interim through death is corrected in the resurrection. But how or when the dissolution takes place, what has this to do with the resurrection? For the investigation of this matter looks to another purpose—for example, whether one lived in pleasure or in sorrow and pain, according to virtue or vice, praiseworthy or blameworthy, or whether he passed his time miserably or happily. For all these things and suchlike are determined by the measure of life and by the manner of the life lived; and thus, for the judgment D of what has been lived, it would be necessary for the judge to inquire into and discover [the state of] vice, loss, and detriment, and disease, and old age, and maturity, and youth, and riches, and poverty: as to how someone, having experienced each of these, ran his allotted life well or badly, and whether he was capable of many good or bad things in a long time, or whether he did not even touch upon the beginning of either of these, having ceased to live while the mind was still imperfect. When, however, God leads human nature back through the resurrection to its first constitution, it would be idle to speak of such things and to think that the power of God is hindered in its purpose by such objections.
A Furthermore, his purpose and counsel is this one thing: that when the whole fullness of our nature has been perfected and made absolute individually in each and every human being—some having been purified from wickedness immediately in this life, others having been healed by fire after this life in the times appointed for it, and others still, who have had no experience or knowledge of good and evil alike during this life here—he might set before all the participation and enjoyment of the good things that are in him, which, as Scripture says, neither eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor has it been possible for them to be reached by thoughts and reasonings. This is nothing else, in my opinion, than to be in God himself; for the good which surpasses hearing and sight and heart is that which presides over the entire nature of things in the heavens. B Furthermore, the difference in life, which is spent either in virtue or in wickedness and vice, will be shown most of all afterwards in this: in how much sooner or later one becomes a participant in the hoped-for blessedness. For the duration of the healing will surely correspond to the proportion of the wickedness inherent in each one. And the healing of the soul will be the purgation of wickedness; and this cannot be accomplished without a painful disposition, as has been examined in what preceded.
Rather, one might recognize the superfluity and impropriety of these objections if one has looked into the depth of the apostolic wisdom. For when clarifying the mystery about these things to the Corinthians, who perhaps were proposing the same arguments to him as are now brought forward by those who attack this doctrine for the overthrow of the faith of believers, he restrains the audacity of their ignorance with his own authority, saying thus: C “You will therefore say to me: How are the dead raised? And with what manner of body do they come? ‘Fool,’ he says, ‘that which you sow is not made alive unless it dies; and you do not sow the body that is to be, but a bare grain, it may be of wheat or of some other of the seeds; but God gives it a body as he wills.’” Here, it seems to me, he stops the mouths of those who are ignorant of the proper measures of nature and who contrast the divine power against their own strength, and who think that God is able to do only as much as human comprehension can grasp and understand, and that what is beyond us also exceeds the divine power. D For those who had asked the Apostle how the dead are raised state that it is impossible for the elements of the body, once they have been scattered, to come together back into a union; and, as if this were impossible, and as no other body remains beside the union of the elements, he says that, having concluded this according to the arguments of those who are clever in such disputes, they arrive by some process of reasoning at what they have posited.
If the body is a concurrence of elements, and this concurrence is A impossible a second time, what body will they who rise use? This, then, which seemed to them to have been connected by some artificial wisdom, he called folly, on the part of those who had not discerned the superiority of the divine power in the rest of creation. For, having left aside the more elevated miracles of God B by which the hearer could be brought to doubt and perplexity—for instance, what is the celestial body, and whence it is, or what is the body of the sun or moon, or what appears in the stars, the ether, the air, water, or earth—he convicts the thoughtlessness of his adversaries by means of those things that are familiar to us and more common.
Does not agriculture, he says, also teach you that he is foolish and inept who judges the excellence of divine power by the measure of his own strength? C Whence come the bodies that grow on seeds? And what leads the way to their germination? Is it not death, if indeed death is the dissolution of that which has been put together? For the seed would not arrive at germination unless it were dissolved in the soil, and rendered rare and porous, so that it might be mixed with the adjacent moisture by its own peculiar quality, and thus be transformed into root and shoot, and not even remain in this state, but be changed into the stalk, girdled by the intervening joints as if by certain bonds, so as to be able to bear, in an upright figure, the ear heavy with fruit. D Where, then, were these things concerning the grain before its dissolution in the soil? And yet, from that source this comes into being. For if that had not existed before, the ear would not have come to be either. Just as, then, the body of the ear appears from the seed, with the divine power fashioning this out of that very thing, and it is neither entirely the same as the seed nor altogether different, so, he says, the mystery of the resurrection is already foreshadowed for you through the things marvelously brought to pass in seeds, because the divine power, in the superiority of its authority, not only renders back to you that which was dissolved, but also adds great and beautiful things, through which nature is equipped and adorned for you with a more magnificent and ample beauty. It is sown, he says, «in corruption, it is raised in incorruption; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.» For as if having left behind after the disso-
dissolution and diffusion into the soil of a grain of wheat the smallness which is considered in respect of quantity, and that property of its form which is looked at in respect of quality, it does not abandon itself, but remaining in itself it becomes an ear of corn, far exceeding itself in magnitude, and beauty, and variety, and form: A in the same way also human nature, having left behind in death all the properties pertaining to it, which it had acquired through affection and disposition, making it liable to passions, movements, and perturbations of the soul—I mean the dishonor, and the corruption, and the weakness, and the difference in age—does not abandon itself, but as if into an ear of corn, it is changed into incorruptibility, and into glory, and into honor, and into power, and into perfection in all things, and into that condition where its life is no longer administered by natural properties, but passes into a certain spiritual state, immune from passions and perturbations of the soul. For this is the property of the animal body, that it is always in a state of flux and movement, becoming different from that in which it consists, and changing into something else. For those things which we now see as good, not only in humans but also in plants and trees and cattle, none of them will remain in that life which is to come.
It seems to me also that the apostolic discourse agrees in every way with our own opinion regarding the resurrection, and shows that which our definition contains, which says that resurrection is nothing other than the restoration of our nature to its original state and condition. For since we have learned this in the first cosmogony from Scripture, that first the earth brought forth the herb of grass, as the account says, then from the growth seed C was produced, which, having fallen to the earth, the same species of that which had sprouted from the beginning sprang up again: and the divine Apostle says that this also takes place in the resurrection. And we are taught by him not only this, namely that the human race is changed to a more magnificent and august state and condition, but also that that which is hoped for is nothing other than what was in the beginning. For since from the beginning it was not the ear of corn that came from the seed, but the seed from that [the herb]; but afterwards the ear of corn grows upon the seed, the sequence of the analogy clearly demonstrates D that when all blessedness shall have blossomed again for us through the resurrection, it will be restored to the grace and beauty of the beginning. For since we were ears of corn in the beginning in a certain sense, and we, since we have been withered by the burning heat of
A wickedness, earth receiving us again after we have been dissolved by death, will in the spring of the resurrection bring forth this naked grain of the body; it will show it tall, abundant, upright, and stretched out toward the height of heaven, adorned not with stalk or blade but with incorruption and the rest of the godly characteristics. "For this corruptible must put on incorruption." And incorruption, and honor, and glory, and power, are acknowledged to be proper to the divine nature—things which were previously with him who was made in the image, and are hoped for again hereafter. For the first ear of corn was the first man, Adam. But since, by the entry of wickedness, nature was divided into a multitude, as happens with the fruit in an ear; so each of us, having been stripped of the form of that ear and mixed with the earth, shall rise again in the resurrection in our original beauty, becoming, in place of that one first ear, myriads of sheaves. B
The life lived according to virtue, however, has this difference from a life of wickedness in this matter: those who here in this life have cultivated themselves through virtue appear immediately in the perfect ear. But to those for whom, through wickedness, the power in the psychic seed has become thin, vanishing, degenerate, and vulnerable to the injury of the winds—just as the things called "hard-growing" are said by experts in such things to come to be—to them also, even if they spring up through the resurrection, there will be much severity before the Judge, inasmuch as they are unable to shoot up to the form of the ear and become that which we were before the fall onto the earth. The treatment of the one who oversees the crops is the gathering of the tares and the thorns that have grown together with the seed, since all the power that feeds the root has flowed away toward the bastard grain, C through which the genuine seed remained undernourished and fruitless, entangled D with the unnatural growth. When, therefore, all that is bastard and alien has been rooted out from that which is nourishing and led to destruction—the fire having consumed what was unnatural, once it has been delivered to the eternal fire—then the nature of these [genuine elements] will also be well-nourished, and will ripen into fruit through such care, having at last, after long periods, recovered the common form which was bestowed upon us by God from the beginning. Blessed are those for whom the perfect
and absolute beauty of the ears of corn will spring up immediately at their birth from the resurrection.
A These things we say, not as though some bodily difference will appear at the resurrection in those who have lived in virtue or in vice, so that we should think one is incomplete in body while another has the perfect form; but just as in this life both the prisoner and the free man have a similar bodily appearance, yet there is a great difference between the two as regards pleasure and pain, in the same way I think the difference between the good and the evil should be estimated in the future time. For bodily perfection in those rising again from the seed is spoken of by the Apostle as joined with incorruptibility, glory, honor, and power; yet the diminution of these things does signifies not some bodily mutilation of the resurrected person, but the deprivation and alienation of each of those things which are understood by the term "good." Since, therefore, it is necessary that one of those things which are understood in opposition must be present in us—either good or evil—it is clear that to say someone is not in the good is a demonstration that he is necessarily in the evil. B But indeed, concerning vice, there is no honor, no glory, no incorruptibility, no power. It is entirely necessary, therefore, that in the one for whom these things are not, there should be no doubt that those things which are understood as the opposite are present: namely weakness, ignominy, corruption, and whatever is of that kind—of which we made mention in our previous writings, when we said that those diseases and affections of the soul contracted from vice are so thoroughly diffused and grown together with it, and so united to it, that they can be removed and abolished only with difficulty. When therefore such things have been purged and expiated by the appropriate care, whatever succeeds in their place—incorruptibility, life, honor, grace, glory, power, and if there be anything else of the same kind which we suppose to be contemplated in God himself—that will come in succession to the image of God, which is human nature; and in place of the former things, we conjecture and believe that those things which are understood as the better part will be perceived. To Him be glory unto the ages. Amen.