Unfinished Literal Commentary on Genesis

Obscure questions about natural things, which we perceive to have been made by God, the almighty craftsman, should be treated not by affirming but by inquiring, above all in the books which divine authority commends to us. In them, rashness in asserting an uncertain and doubtful opinion can hardly escape the charge of sacrilege; yet such hesitation in inquiring must not go beyond the bounds of the catholic faith. And since many heretics are accustomed to drag the interpretation of the divine scriptures toward their own view, which is outside the faith of catholic teaching, the catholic faith must be briefly set out before this book is treated. It is this: that God the Father almighty made and established the whole creation through his only-begotten Son, that is, his Wisdom and Power, consubstantial with him and coeternal, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, also himself consubstantial and coeternal. Catholic teaching, then, commands us to believe that this Trinity is called one God, and that he made and created all things that are, insofar as they are, so that every creature, whether intellectual or bodily — or, to say it more briefly in the words of the divine scriptures, whether invisible or visible — was not born of God but made by God from nothing; and that there is nothing in it which belongs to the Trinity, except that the Trinity founded it and it was founded. Therefore it is not lawful to say or believe that the whole creation is either consubstantial with God or coeternal with him. And it teaches that all the things God made are very good, but that evils are not natural; rather, everything that is called evil is either sin or the punishment of sin. And sin is nothing but the perverse consent of the free will, when we incline toward what justice forbids and from which we are free to abstain; that is, sin lies not in things themselves but in their unlawful use. The lawful use of things is that the soul abide in the law of God and be subject to the one God with the fullest love, and manage the other things subject to it without greed or lust, that is, according to God's command. For in this way it will manage them without difficulty and misery and with the greatest ease and happiness. But the punishment of sin is when the soul is tormented by the very creatures that do not serve it, since it does not itself serve God; the creature obeyed it when it obeyed God. So fire is not evil, because it is a creature of God; yet our weakness is burned by it as the desert of sin. And those sins are called natural which must of necessity be committed before the mercy of God, after we have fallen into this life through the sin of free choice. And man is renewed through Jesus Christ our Lord, when the ineffable and unchangeable Wisdom of God herself deigned to take up full and entire manhood and to be born of the Holy Spirit and the virgin Mary, to be crucified, buried, and to rise again and ascend into heaven, which has already happened; and to come to judge the living and the dead at the end of the world, and the resurrection of the dead in the flesh, which is proclaimed as still to come. And the Holy Spirit has been given to those who believe in him. And he established mother church, which is called catholic because it is universally complete and limps in nothing and is spread through the whole world. And former sins are forgiven to the repentant, and eternal life and the kingdom of heaven are promised.

In accordance with this faith we must consider what can be inquired into and discussed in this book. ‘In the beginning God made heaven and earth.’ Four ways of interpreting the law are handed down by certain commentators on the scriptures; their names can be stated in Greek, but defined and explained in Latin: according to history, according to allegory, according to analogy, according to aetiology. It is history when something done, whether by God or by man, is recorded; allegory, when things said figuratively are understood; analogy, when the agreement of the Old and New Testaments is demonstrated; aetiology, when the causes of things said and done are given.

So of what is written, ‘In the beginning God made heaven and earth,’ it can be asked whether it is to be taken only according to history, or whether it also signifies something figuratively, and how it agrees with the gospel, and for what reason this book began in this way. According to history, one asks what ‘in the beginning’ means: whether in the beginning of time, or in the Beginning, in the very Wisdom of God, since the Son of God himself also called himself the Beginning, when it was said to him, ‘Who are you?’ and he said, ‘The Beginning, which I am also speaking to you.’ For there is a beginning without a beginning, and there is a beginning with another beginning. The beginning without a beginning is the Father alone; therefore we believe that all things are from one beginning. But the Son is a beginning in such a way that he is from the Father. Even the first intellectual creature itself can be called a beginning for those things God made of which it is the head. For since a head is rightly called a beginning, in that gradation the apostle did not call only the woman the head of anything. For he called the man the head of the woman, and Christ the head of the man, and God the head of Christ; so the creature is joined beneath the creator. Or was ‘in the beginning’ said because it was made first? Or could heaven and earth not have been made first among creatures, if the angels and all intellectual powers were made first? For we must believe that the angels too are God's creation and were made by him. For the prophet also listed the angels in the hundred and forty-eighth psalm when he said, ‘He commanded, and they were made; he gave the order, and they were created.’ But if the angels were made first, it can be asked whether they were made in time, or before all time, or at the beginning of time. If in time, there was already time before the angels were made; and since time itself is also a creature, it begins to be necessary to accept that something was made before the angels. But if we say they were made at the beginning of time, so that time began with them, we must say that what some hold is false, that time began with heaven and earth. But if the angels were made before time, we must ask how it is said in what follows: ‘And God said: Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven, to shine upon the earth and to divide between day and night; and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and for years.’ For here it can seem that times began then, when heaven and the lights of heaven had begun to run their ordered courses. If this is true, how could there be days before there was time, if time began from the course of the lights, which are said to have been made on the fourth day? Or was this arrangement of days ordered according to the custom of human frailty, by the law of narration and of conveying lofty things humbly to the humble — a law by which the very speech of a narrator cannot but have some first, middle, and last parts? Or were the lights said to be for those times which men measure by intervals of duration in the motion of a body? For these times would not exist if there were no motion of bodies, and they are more evident to men. If we admit this, we must ask whether apart from the motion of bodies there can be time in the motion of an incorporeal creature, such as the soul or the mind itself, which certainly moves in its thoughts and in that very motion has something earlier and something later, which cannot be understood without an interval of time. If we accept this, time can be understood to have existed even before heaven and earth, if the angels were made before heaven and earth. For there was already a creature that would carry on time by incorporeal motions; and time is rightly understood to exist with it, as in a soul that has become accustomed to bodily motions through the bodily senses. But perhaps it is not so in the principalities and the supereminent creatures. But however this may be — for it is a most secret matter and impenetrable to human conjectures — this at least must be accepted in faith, even if it exceeds the measure of our thinking: that every creature has a beginning, and that time itself is a creature and therefore itself has a beginning and is not coeternal with the creator. ‘Heaven and earth’ can also seem to have been put for the whole creation, so that both this visible ethereal firmament and that invisible creation of the supereminent powers are called heaven, and in turn the whole lower part of the world with the living things that inhabit it is called earth. Or is every lofty and invisible creature called heaven, and every visible one earth, so that in this way too what was said, ‘In the beginning God made heaven and earth,’ could be understood as the whole creation? For perhaps not inappropriately everything visible is called earth in comparison with the invisible creation, so that the latter is named by the word heaven; since the soul too, which is invisible, when it swelled with love of visible things and was puffed up by obtaining them, was called earth, as it is written: ‘Why is earth and ashes proud?’ But it can be asked whether he called ‘heaven and earth’ all things already distinguished and composed, or whether he named by the word heaven and earth the very formless matter of the universe at first, which was ordered into these formed and beautiful natures at God's ineffable command. For although we read it written, ‘You who made the world from formless matter,’ yet we cannot say that even that matter, of whatever kind it may be, was not made by him from whom we confess and believe all things are. So the very arrangement and ordering of each and every formed and distinct thing may be called the world, while the matter itself may be called heaven and earth, as if the seed of heaven and earth, and heaven and earth, as it were, confused and mixed, fit for receiving forms from God the craftsman. Let this be enough inquiry about what was said, ‘In the beginning God made heaven and earth’; for none of these things could be rashly affirmed.

‘But the earth was invisible and unformed, and darkness was over the abyss; and the Spirit of God was borne over the water.’ The heretics who oppose the Old Testament are accustomed to raise a false charge against this passage, saying: ‘How did God in the beginning make heaven and earth, if the earth already was?’ They do not understand that this was added to explain what kind of earth it was of which it had already been said, ‘God made heaven and earth.’ So it must be taken thus: in the beginning God made heaven and earth; but this earth which God made was invisible and unformed, until it was set apart by the same God and established out of confusion in a definite order of things. Or is it better understood thus, that in this continuation the same matter of things is again presented which above was named by the words heaven and earth, so that the sense is: ‘In the beginning God made heaven and earth; but this which was called heaven and earth was earth invisible and unformed, and darkness over the abyss’ — that is, what was called heaven and earth was a certain confused matter from which the world, which consists of two very great parts, namely heaven and earth, would be fashioned when the elements had been set in order and it had received form? This confusion of matter could be conveyed to popular understanding in this way, if it were called earth invisible and unformed, or unordered, or unprepared, and darkness over the abyss, that is, over a most vast depth — a depth which is perhaps so named because no one's understanding can penetrate it on account of its very formlessness. ‘And darkness was over the face of the abyss.’ Was the abyss below and darkness above, as though places were already distinct? Or, since it is still the confusion of matter that is being described, which in Greek is also called chaos, was it said, ‘darkness was over the abyss,’ because there was no light? If there had been light, it would certainly have been above, because it would be more eminent and would illuminate what was beneath it. And indeed, whoever considers carefully what darkness is finds it to be nothing but the absence of light. So ‘darkness was over the abyss’ was said as if it had been said, ‘there was no light over the abyss.’ Therefore this matter, which by God's subsequent working is ordered and distinguished into the forms of things, was called earth invisible and unformed and a depth lacking light; and above it was called by the name of heaven and earth as the seed, as has already been said, of heaven and earth — unless, by saying heaven and earth, he wished first to set forth the universe, so as afterward, having introduced the matter, to go through the parts of the world. ‘And the Spirit of God was borne over the water.’ He had nowhere said, ‘God made water’; yet we must in no way believe that God did not make water and that it already existed before he established anything. For he is the one from whom are all things, through whom are all things, in whom are all things, as the apostle says. So God made water too, and to believe otherwise is a great error. Why, then, was it not said that God made water? Or did he wish to call the same matter, which he had named heaven and earth, or earth invisible and unformed, and abyss, by the name of water as well? For why should it not be called water, if it could be called earth, when as yet there was neither water distinguished and formed, nor earth, nor anything else? But perhaps it was first called heaven and earth, secondly unformed earth and an abyss lacking light, and thirdly, not inappropriately, water: so that by the first name the matter of heaven and earth would be named after the universe itself, for whose sake matter was made from absolutely nothing; by the second name, of unformed earth and abyss, its formlessness would be conveyed, since among all the elements earth is more formless and less luminous than the rest; and by the third name, water, matter subject to the work of the craftsman would be signified, for water is more mobile than earth. And therefore, because of the ease of working it and its easier motion, matter subject to the craftsman had to be called water rather than earth. Air, indeed, is more mobile than water, and ether is not absurdly believed or perceived to be more mobile than air itself; but matter would be less suitably called by the name of air or ether. For these elements are believed rather to have the power of acting, while earth and water have that of being acted upon. If this is obscure, this at least I think is most evident, that wind moves water and some earthly things, and wind is air in motion and, as it were, surging. So since air plainly moves water, while it is obscure from where air itself is moved so as to become wind, who would doubt that matter is more fittingly called by the name of water, which is moved, than of air, which moves? For to be moved is to be acted upon, to move is to act. Add to this that the things the earth produces are watered by water so that they can be born and grow, so that the same water almost seems to be turned into these very growing things. Therefore matter would more fittingly be called by the name of water, when it was presented as subject to the work of the craftsman, because of its mobility and its turning into all kinds of growing bodies, than by the name of air, in which only mobility could be noticed, while the other features by which matter is more expressly signified would be lacking. So the whole sense is this: ‘In the beginning God made heaven and earth,’ that is, matter which could take the form of heaven and earth; this matter was earth invisible and unformed, that is, a formless depth lacking light; yet, since it was subject to the craftsman who moves and works it, for this very reason, that it yields to the one who works it, it was also called water. In this signification of matter, then, its end is presented first, that is, for what it was made; secondly, its very formlessness; thirdly, its service and subjection under the craftsman. So first, heaven and earth — for matter was made for this; secondly, earth invisible and unformed and darkness over the abyss, that is, formlessness itself without light — whence the earth was also called invisible; thirdly, water subject to the Spirit for taking on condition and forms. Therefore the Spirit of God was borne over the water, so that we may understand the Spirit as working, and the water as that from which he worked, that is, fashionable matter. For when we speak of these three names of one thing — the matter of the world, formless matter, fashionable matter — to the first name heaven and earth is well joined; to the second, obscurity, confusion, depth, darkness; to the third, the ease of yielding, over which the Spirit of the craftsman is now borne in order to work. ‘And the Spirit of God was borne over the water.’ He was not borne over it as oil over water or water over earth, that is, as though contained by it; but, if examples are to be taken from visible things for this, as this light of the sun or moon is borne over those bodies on earth which it illuminates; for it is not contained by them, but, while it is contained by heaven, it is borne over them. Again, we must take care not to think that the Spirit of God is borne over matter as if by spaces of place, but by a certain effective and fashioning power, so that what he is borne over may be effected and fashioned, as the will of a craftsman is borne over wood, or over anything put before him to work on, or even over the very members of his body, which he moves in order to work. And this likeness, although it is already more excellent than any body, is nevertheless small and almost nothing for understanding how the Spirit of God is borne over the matter of the world put beneath him for working; but we find no clearer likeness, and none closer to the matter of which we speak, among the things that can in any way be grasped by men. Therefore in thinking of this kind the precept is best kept which is written: ‘Blessing the Lord, exalt him as much as you can; he will still surpass it.’ But let this be said if in this place the Spirit of God is taken to be the Holy Spirit, whom we worship in the ineffable and unchangeable Trinity itself. But it can also be understood otherwise, so that by the Spirit of God we understand the vital creature by which this whole visible world and all bodily things are held together and moved, to which almighty God has granted a certain power of serving him in working on the things that are brought forth. Since this spirit is better than any ethereal body, because every invisible creature surpasses every visible creature, it is not absurdly called the spirit of God. For what among the things he founded is not God's, since even of the earth itself it is said, ‘The earth is the Lord's and its fullness,’ and, with a universal embrace, what is written: ‘For all things are yours, Lord, who love souls’? But this spirit can be understood thus only if we take what was said, ‘In the beginning God made heaven and earth,’ to have been said only of the visible creation, so that over the matter of visible things, at the start of their fashioning, an invisible spirit was borne, which nevertheless was itself a creature, that is, not God, but a nature made and established by God. But if the matter of the whole creation — that is, intellectual, animal, and bodily — is believed to be expressed by that word water, then in this place the Spirit of God can in no way be understood except as that unchangeable and holy Spirit who was borne over the matter of all the things that God made and founded. A third opinion about this spirit can arise, that the element of air is believed to be expressed by the word spirit, so that in this way the four elements from which this visible world rises are presented — namely heaven and earth and water and air — not because they were already distinct and adorned, but because they were foreshadowed as about to arise in the confusion of that matter, formless though it was; which formless confusion was presented by the name of darkness and abyss. But whichever of these opinions is true, we must believe that God is the author and founder of all things that have arisen, those that are seen and those that are not seen — not as regards the vices which are against nature, but as regards the natures themselves — and that there is absolutely no creature which does not have from him the beginning and perfection of its kind and substance.

‘And God said: Let there be light. And light was made.’ We must not take it that God said, ‘Let there be light,’ by a voice sent out from lungs, or with tongue and teeth. Such thoughts belong to carnal people; and to be minded according to the flesh is death. But ‘Let there be light’ was said ineffably. Whether what was said was said to the only-begotten Son, or whether what was said is itself the only-begotten Son, who is called the Word of God, through whom all things were made, can be asked, provided that impiety is absent by which we would believe that the Word of God, the only-begotten Son, is like a voice uttered as happens with us. But the Word of God, through whom all things were made, neither began to be nor will cease; but, born without beginning, he is coeternal with the Father. Therefore, if this saying ‘Let there be light’ both began and ceased to be said, this word was said to the Son rather than being itself the Son. And yet even this was said ineffably, lest a carnal image creep into the soul and disturb pious spiritual understanding; for to think that anything begins and ceases in the nature of God, if taken properly, is a rash and headlong opinion, though it is to be granted most humanely to carnal people and little ones, not as though they would remain in it, but as though they would rise from it. For whatever God is said to begin and cease must be understood in no way in his own nature, but in his creature, which obeys him in wonderful ways. ‘And God said: Let there be light.’ Is it the light that is open to these fleshly eyes, or some hidden light that it is not given us to see through this body? And if hidden, is it bodily, extended through spaces of place, perhaps in the highest parts of the world; or incorporeal, such as is in the soul, to which the senses of the body refer the judgment of what to avoid and what to seek, which even the souls of beasts do not lack; or that higher light which appears in reasoning, from which everything created begins? For whatever light it signifies, we must take it as made and created, not that light by which the Wisdom of God herself shines, who was not created but born; lest God be thought to have been without light before he founded this light of which we are now treating. For of this light, as the words themselves sufficiently show, this is presented: that it was made. ‘And God said,’ it says, ‘Let there be light. And light was made.’ The light born of God is one thing, and the light which God made is another. The light born of God is the Wisdom of God herself; but the light made is any changeable light, whether incorporeal or bodily. It commonly troubles people how there could be bodily light before there was heaven and the lights of heaven, which are set out after this light — as if it could easily be perceived by man, or could be at all, whether there is some light besides heaven which is nevertheless distributed and spread through spaces of place and embraces the world. But since it is permissible to understand incorporeal light here too, if we say that not only the visible creation but every creature is set forth in this book, what need is there to linger in this controversy? And perhaps what people ask — when the angels were made — they themselves are signified by this light, very briefly indeed, but most fittingly and becomingly. ‘And God saw the light, that it was good.’ This sentence should be understood to signify not joy at an unaccustomed good, but approval of the work. For what is said more fittingly of God, as far as it can be said among men, than when it is put thus, ‘he said,’ ‘it was made,’ ‘it pleased him’ — so that in ‘he said’ his command is understood, in ‘it was made’ his power, in ‘it pleased him’ his kindness — just as ineffable things had to be spoken by man to men in such a way that they could benefit all? ‘And God divided between the light and the darkness.’ From this we may understand with how great ease of divine working these things are said to have been brought about. For there is no one who would think that light was made in such a way as to be mixed with darkness and therefore afterward to need separating; but by the very fact that light was made, the division between light and darkness also followed. For what fellowship has light with darkness? God, then, divided between the light and the darkness because he made light, whose absence is called darkness. And the difference between light and darkness is like that between clothing and nakedness, or full and empty, and the like. In how many ways light can be understood has been said above; the privations contrary to them can be called darkness. For one light is the one seen by these bodily eyes, itself bodily, such as that of the sun, moon, and stars and anything of this kind; contrary to it is darkness, when some place lacks that light. Another light, again, is life that senses and is able to discern what is referred through the body to the judgment of the soul: white and black, melodious and harsh, fragrant and foul-smelling, sweet and bitter, hot and cold, and other things of this kind. For the light that is sensed by the eyes is one thing, and the thing that acts through the eyes so that it may be sensed is another. The former is in the body; the latter, although it receives through the body what it senses, is nevertheless in the soul. Contrary to this is darkness: a kind of insensibility, or, if it is better called so, insensuality, that is, not sensing, although things are presented that could be sensed if this light by which one senses were in that life. And this is not when the services of the body are lacking, as in the blind or deaf — for in their souls there is this light of which we are now treating, but the instruments of the body are lacking; nor in the way that in silence no voice is heard, when this light is in the soul and the instruments of the body are present, but nothing is presented to be sensed. So whoever does not sense for these reasons does not lack this light; but it is lacking when such a power is not in the soul, which then is no longer usually called a soul but only life, such as is said to be in the vine and the tree and all kinds of plants — if indeed they can in any way be believed to have even this; though some heretics, erring greatly, think that they not only sense through the body, that is, see and hear and distinguish heat and fire, but also understand reason and know our thoughts. But that is another question. Insensibility, then, is the darkness of this light by which anything is sensed, when some life does not have the very power of sensing. And whoever grants that that by which each thing is made manifest is rightly called light grants that this is fittingly called light. For when we say, ‘It is manifest that this is melodious, it is manifest that this is sweet, it is manifest that this is cold,’ and whatever of this kind we perhaps reach through the bodily senses, this light by which these things are manifest is surely within, in the soul, although the things so sensed are presented through the body. A third kind of light can be understood among creatures, that by which we reason. Contrary to it is the darkness of irrationality, as are the souls of beasts. So whether this sentence wishes us to understand that ethereal light, or the light of sense, which animals share, or rational light, which both angels and men have, was first made by God in the nature of things, we must take it that God divided between the light and the darkness by the very fact that light was made, because light is one thing and those privations of light are another, which God ordered in the contrary darknesses. For it is not said that God made darkness, since God made the forms themselves, not the privations, which belong to the nothing from which all things were made by God the craftsman. Yet we understand that they were ordered by him when it is said, ‘And God divided between the light and the darkness,’ so that not even the privations would lack their order, God ruling and governing all things — just as in singing, the intervals of silence, at fixed and measured intervals, although they are privations of sound, are nevertheless well ordered by those who know how to sing, and contribute something to the sweetness of the whole song; and shadows in paintings set off each of the more prominent features and please not by their form but by their order. For God is not the author of our vices either; yet he is their orderer, when he places sinners in their place and compels them to suffer what they deserve. To this point applies the placing of the sheep on the right and the goats on the left. So some things God both makes and orders, but some he only orders. The righteous he both makes and orders; but sinners, insofar as they are sinners, he does not make but only orders, inasmuch as he sets some on the right and some on the left, and his commanding them to go into eternal fire serves the order of deserts. So he both makes and orders forms and natures themselves; but the privations of forms and the defects of natures he does not make, but only orders. And so he said, ‘Let there be light. And light was made’; he did not say, ‘Let there be darkness. And darkness was made.’ Of these, then, he made the one and did not make the other; yet he ordered both, when God divided between the light and the darkness. So by his making each thing is beautiful, and by his ordering all things are beautiful.

‘And God called the light day, and the darkness he called night.’ Since ‘light’ is the name of a thing, and ‘day’ in turn, and ‘darkness’ and ‘night’ are both names, ought it to be said that names were imposed on things in such a way that the thing on which a name was imposed was expressed by some other name too — for it could not be otherwise — and that ‘God called the light day’ was said so that it could indifferently be said the other way round too, ‘God called the day light, and called the night darkness’? What shall we answer if someone asks us thus: was the name ‘day’ imposed on light, or was the name ‘light’ imposed on day? For both of these, insofar as they are uttered by articulate voice to signify things, are names. In the same way it can be asked about the other two: was the name ‘night’ imposed on darkness, or was the name ‘darkness’ imposed on night? And indeed, as scripture lays down, it is plain that ‘day’ was spoken as the name of light and ‘night’ as the name of darkness. For when it said, ‘God made light and divided between the light and the darkness,’ it was not yet dealing with words; afterward the words day and night were applied, although light and darkness too are without doubt words signifying certain things, as day and night are. Must this be taken, then, as meaning that the thing which received a name could not be expressed otherwise than by some name? Or is this calling rather to be taken as the distinction itself? For not every light is day, nor all darkness night; but light and darkness, ordered and distinguished from each other in fixed alternations, are called by the names of day and night. For every word serves to distinguish; whence also a name (nomen), which marks a thing, is so called as being a mark (notamen); and to mark is to distinguish and to help the learner to discern. Perhaps, then, to have divided between light and darkness is the same as to have called the light day and the darkness night, so that to have ordered them is the same as to have called them. Or do these words wish to signify to us which light he meant and which darkness? As though it said: God made light and divided between the light and the darkness; but by light I mean day, and by darkness I mean night, lest you understand some other light which is not day, and lest you understand some other darkness which is not night. For if every light could be understood as day, and all darkness were reckoned by the name of night, perhaps there would be no need to say, ‘And God called the light day, and the darkness he called night.’ Again it can be asked what day he means and what night. If he wants us to take the day which the rising of the sun begins and its setting closes, and the night which stretches from the setting of the sun to its rising, I do not find how these could have existed before the lights of heaven had been made. Or could the very spans of hours and times already be so called even without the distinction of brightness and shadow? And how does this alternation, signified by the names day and night, apply to that rational light, if this is what is signified, or to the light of sense? Or were these things presented not according to what happens but according to what can happen, since error can follow upon reason and a certain dullness upon sense?

‘And evening came and morning came, one day.’ Day is not now called day in the same way as when it was said, ‘And God called the light day,’ but in the way in which we say, for example, that a month has thirty days; for here by the name day we include the nights as well, whereas above day was so called as to be separated from night. So, when that working of God accomplished through light had been presented, it is said next that evening came and morning came, one day, so that one day is evidently from the beginning of day to the beginning of day, that is, from morning to morning, the kind of days we call days, as I said, with the nights counted in. But how did evening come and morning come? Did God make light and divide between light and darkness in as long a span of time as the bright day lasts, that is, not counting the night? And where then is what is written: ‘For power is at your disposal whenever you will’ — if God needs a stretch of time to accomplish something? Or were all things indeed accomplished by God as in an art and a plan, not in a stretch of time, but in that very power which brings about in a stable way even those things which we see not standing but passing away? For in our speech too, although some words pass and others follow, it is not credible that the same happens in the art itself by whose working a skilful speech is stably produced. So, although God, with whom power lies whenever he wills, makes things without a stretch of time, nevertheless temporal natures themselves carry out their motions temporally. So perhaps it was said, ‘And evening came and morning came, one day,’ as it is foreseen in the plan that things should or could be done in that way, not as they are done in the stretches of time. For he who said, ‘He who abides for ever created all things at once,’ was contemplating in the Holy Spirit the very plan of the works; but in this book the narrative of the things made by God has been arranged most suitably as if through intervals of time, so that the arrangement itself, which weaker minds could not see by stable contemplation, might be set forth by this kind of order in speech and be seen, as it were, with these eyes.

‘And God said: Let there be a firmament in the midst of the water, and let it divide between water and water. And so it was done. And God made the firmament and divided between the water that was under the firmament and the water that was above the firmament.’ Are the waters above the firmament like these visible waters under the firmament? Or, since it seems to signify that water over which the Spirit was borne, and which we understood to be the very matter of the world, must this too be believed to be separated in this place by the interposed firmament, so that the lower is bodily matter and the upper animate? For he here calls firmament what he later calls heaven. And among bodies nothing is better than a heavenly body; for there are heavenly bodies and earthly ones, and the heavenly are surely better. Whatever surpasses their nature I do not know how it can still be called a body; but perhaps it is a certain power subject to reason, the reason by which God and truth are known. Since this nature can be formed by virtue and prudence, by whose vigor its fluidity is checked and restrained, and for this reason appears as if material, it was rightly called water by God — surpassing the circuit of the bodily heaven not by spaces of place but by the worth of its incorporeal nature. And since he called heaven the firmament, it is not absurdly understood that whatever is below the ethereal heaven, in which all things are calm and firm, is more changeable and more easily dissolved. Of this kind of bodily matter, before it received the appearance and distinction of forms by which it was named the water under the firmament, there were some who believed that these visible and cold waters encompass the surface of the heaven from above. And they tried to bring as proof the slowness of one star of the seven wanderers, which is higher than the rest and is called by the Greeks Phainon, and completes the circle of the zodiac in thirty years — that it is slow for this reason, because it is nearer to the cold waters which are above the heaven. I do not know how this opinion can be defended among those who have investigated these things most minutely. But none of these things should be rashly affirmed; all should be treated cautiously and modestly. ‘And God said: Let there be a firmament in the midst of the water, and let it divide between water and water. And so it was done.’ After he said, ‘So it was done,’ what need was there to add again, ‘And God made the firmament and divided between the water that was under the firmament and the water that was above the firmament’? For when he had said above, ‘And God said: Let there be light. And light was made,’ he did not add again, ‘And God made light’; but here, after God said, ‘Let there be,’ and ‘So it was done,’ there was added, ‘And God made.’ Does it appear from this that that light should not be understood as bodily, lest God seem to have made it with some creature interposed — and by God I mean the Trinity — whereas this firmament of heaven, because it is bodily, may be believed to have received its appearance and form through an incorporeal creature? So that what was to be impressed bodily, that the firmament of heaven might come to be, was first impressed rationally by the truth on an incorporeal nature; and therefore what is set down, ‘And God said: Let there be. And so it was done,’ was perhaps first done in the rational nature itself, from which the form would be impressed on the body?

But when it is added, ‘And God made the firmament and divided between the water that was under the firmament and the water that was above the firmament,’ is the very working in that matter signified, so that the body of heaven came to be? Or perhaps, for variety's sake, so that the texture of the narrative should not become tedious, what is set down below was not set down above, and we should not scrupulously probe everything? Let each choose what he can, only let him not rashly put forward something unknown as known, and let him remember that he is a man inquiring into divine works as far as is permitted. ‘And God called the firmament heaven.’ What was discussed above about calling can be considered here too; for not every firmament is heaven. ‘And God saw that it was good.’ Let what was discussed above about this also be taken up again, except that I do not see the same order. For above it says, ‘And God saw the light, that it was good,’ and after that is added, ‘God divided between the light and the darkness; and God called the light day and the darkness he called night’; but here, after it has been narrated as done what was said to be done, and after the firmament has been called heaven, then it is said, ‘And God saw that it was good.’ If this has not been varied for the sake of avoiding tedium, we are surely compelled to understand what was said: ‘And God made all things at once.’ For why did he there first see that it was good and afterward impose the name, but here first impose the name and afterward see that it was good, unless this indifference signifies that there are no intervals of time in God's working, although they are found in the works themselves? But according to an interval of time something is brought about earlier and later, and without these there can be no narrative of things done, although God could have brought these things about without them. ‘And evening came and morning came, a second day.’ This has already been discussed above, and I think the same reasons hold here too.

‘And God said: Let the waters that are under heaven be gathered into one gathering, and let the dry land appear. And so it was done.’ From this it can more probably be believed that the very matter of the world was called water above, as we supposed. For if the universe was filled with water, from where or to where could it be gathered? But if he had called a certain material confusion by the name of water, this gathering must be taken as its very formation, so that the appearance of water would be such as we now see it to be. And the very phrase that is set down, ‘let the dry land appear,’ can be understood as the formation of the earth, so that the earth would have this appearance which we see. For it had been called invisible and unformed while the appearance of matter was still lacking. So God said, ‘Let the water that is under heaven be gathered,’ that is, let bodily matter be brought into form, so that it may be this water which we perceive. ‘Into one gathering’: the very power of form is presented by the name of unity. For to be truly formed is this: to be brought into some one thing, since every principle of form is supremely one. ‘And let the dry land appear’: that is, let it receive a visible appearance, distinct from confusion. And the water is well gathered so that the dry land may appear; that is, the fluidity of matter is checked so that what is obscure may be brought to light. ‘And so it was done’: this too was perhaps done first in the reasons of the intellectual nature, so that what is said afterward, ‘And the water was gathered into one gathering and the dry land appeared,’ may not seem superfluously added, since it had already been said, ‘And so it was done,’ but so that we may understand that after the rational and incorporeal working the bodily one also followed. ‘And God called the dry land earth, and the gathering of the water he called sea.’ That reason for the words still works in our favor; for not all water is sea, nor all dry ground earth. So it had to be marked off by words which water and which dry ground was meant. But it can still be understood, not absurdly, that God's calling was the very distinction and formation. ‘And God saw that it was good.’ Here the same order is kept; so let what has already been discussed be compared with this too.

‘And God said: Let the earth sprout fodder-grass bearing seed according to its kind and likeness, and the fruitful tree bearing fruit, whose seed is in itself according to its likeness.’ After the earth and the sea had been made and named and approved — which, as we have often said, must not be taken in intervals of time, lest some slowness attach to the ineffable ability of God at work — it is not at once added, as on the two previous days, ‘Evening came and morning came, a third day’; but another work is joined, that the earth should sprout fodder-grass bearing seed according to its kind and likeness, and the fruit-bearing tree bearing fruit, whose seed is in itself according to its likeness. This was not said of that light and the firmament and the waters and the dry land; for that light has no propagation by succession, nor is another heaven born of heaven, nor do earth or sea bring forth other seas and other earths to succeed them. Here, then, it had to be said, ‘bearing seed according to its kind and likeness’ and ‘whose seed is in itself according to its likeness,’ where the likeness of the things born preserves the likeness of what passes away. All these things are above the earth in such a way that they cleave to the earth itself by their roots and are continuous with it, and again are in some way separate from it. For this reason I think the signification of this nature has been preserved in this narrative: that they were made on the same day on which the earth appeared, and yet God spoke again that the earth should sprout, and again it was said, ‘And so it was done.’ Then, according to the earlier rule, after it was said, ‘And so it was done,’ the execution itself is added: ‘And the earth brought forth fodder-grass bearing seed according to its kind, and the fruit-bearing tree bearing fruit, whose seed is in itself according to its likeness’; and again he says, ‘God saw that it was good.’ So these things are both joined in one day and distinguished from each other by the repetition of God's words; and I think this was not done for the earth and the sea because the nature of these things is more to be distinguished, which, while they rise and perish, are propagated by the succession of seed. Or, since the earth and the sea could be made at the same time not only in the reasons of the spiritual creature, where all things were made at once, but also in bodily motion itself, while trees and all kinds of plants could not be born unless the earth in which they would sprout had come first — was God's command therefore to be repeated, so that they would be signified as made distinct, yet not to be made on another day, because they are fixed by their roots in the earth and continuous with it? But it can be asked why God did not impose names on these. Was it passed over because their multitude did not allow it? But this question will be better considered later, when we notice other things that God did not name as he named the light and heaven and earth and sea. ‘And evening came and morning came, a third day.’

‘And God said: Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven, to shine upon the earth and to divide between day and night; and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and for years; and let them be for splendor in the firmament of heaven, to shine upon the earth.’ The lights were made on the fourth day, and of them it is said, ‘And let them be for days.’ What, then, do the three days that passed without lights mean? Or why will these be for days, if days could exist even without them? Is it because that stretch of time and the interval of duration can be more clearly marked off by men through the motion of these lights? Or does this counting of days and nights serve to distinguish between that nature which was not made and the natures which were made, so that morning would be named on account of the form of the things made, and evening on account of privation? For as far as concerns him by whom they were made, they are beautiful and well formed; but as far as lies in themselves, they can fail, because they were made from nothing; and insofar as they do not fail, this is not from their matter, which is from nothing, but from him who supremely is and makes them be in their own kind and order. ‘And God said: Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven to shine.’ Was this said only of the fixed stars, or of the wandering ones too? But the two lights, the greater and the lesser, are numbered among the wandering stars. How, then, were all made in the firmament, when each of the wandering stars possesses its own globe or circle? Or, since in the scriptures we read both of many heavens and of heaven — as in this place, where heaven and firmament are spoken of — must we understand that this whole ethereal structure is meant, which contains all the stars, beneath which flourishes the serenity of pure and tranquil air, beneath which again this turbulent and stormy air is tossed? ‘To shine upon the earth and to divide between day and night.’ Had not God already divided between light and darkness, and called the light day and the darkness night? From this it appears that he had divided between day and night. What does it mean now, that it is said of the lights, ‘and let them divide between day and night’? Is this division now made through the lights in such a way that it is known to men, even to those who use only fleshly eyes in contemplating these things, whereas God made it before the circuit of the lights in such a way that now it can be seen only by a few, by the Holy Spirit and serene reason? Or did God divide between another day and another night, that is, between the form which he was impressing on that formlessness and the formlessness which still remained to be formed? But this day and this night are different, whose alternation is noticed as heaven revolves, which could not happen except by the rising and setting of the sun.

‘And let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and for years.’ It seems to me that by saying ‘for signs’ he made plain what he said by ‘and for seasons,’ so that signs and seasons would not be taken as different things. For here he calls seasons those which, by the distinction of intervals, signify that unchangeable eternity abides above them, so that time appears as a sign, that is, as a kind of trace of eternity. Again, when he adds ‘and for days and for years,’ he shows what seasons he meant: days come about by the turning of the fixed stars, while years are evident when the sun completes the circle of the zodiac, and more obscure when each of the wandering stars does so in its own orbit. For he did not say ‘and for months,’ perhaps because a month is a year of the moon, just as twelve years of the moon are a year of the star which the Greeks call Phaethon, and thirty years of the sun a year of the star which is called Phainon. And perhaps, when all the stars have returned to the same point, the great year is completed, about which many have said much. Or does he say ‘for signs,’ by which a sure course of sailing is indicated, and ‘for seasons,’ such as the season of spring and summer and autumn and winter, since these too vary with the revolution of the stars and keep their turns and order, while ‘for days and for years’ is to be taken as already explained? ‘And let them be for splendor in the firmament of heaven, to shine upon the earth.’ It had already been said above, ‘Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven, to shine upon the earth’; why do we think it was repeated? Or, just as it was said of plants that they bear seed and that their seed is in them according to their kind and likeness, so here, on the contrary, it is said of the lights, ‘let there be’ and ‘let them be,’ that is, let them come to be and not beget, but themselves be. ‘And so it was done.’ That order is kept. ‘And God made two lights: the greater light for the beginning of the day and the lesser light for the beginning of the night, and the stars.’ What ‘beginning of the day’ and ‘beginning of the night’ mean will soon appear. Whether ‘and the stars,’ which he added, belongs to the beginning of the night or not is ambiguous. Some hold that it is signified here that the moon was first made full, because the full moon rises at the beginning of the night, that is, soon after sunset. But it is absurd that we should take the beginning of the counting not from the first day of the moon but from the sixteenth or fifteenth. Nor let it trouble anyone that a light which was made should have been made complete. For it is complete every day; but its completeness is not seen by men except when it is placed opposite the sun on the contrary side. For even when it stands with the sun, since it is beneath it, it seems to be ended; but even then it is full, because it is lit on the other side and cannot be seen by those who are beneath, that is, who inhabit the earth. This can be taught not in a few words but by subtle discussions and the demonstration of certain visible figures. ‘And God set them in the firmament of heaven, to shine upon the earth.’ How did he say, ‘Let there be in the firmament,’ and how does he now say, ‘God made the lights and set them in the firmament,’ as if they were made outside and afterward set there, when it has already been said that they were to be made there? Or is it signified again and again by this that God did not make things as men are accustomed to, but that it was narrated as it could be to men — namely, that among men ‘he made’ is one thing and ‘he set’ another, but with God both are the same, who sets by making and makes by setting? ‘And let them rule the day and the night and divide between the day and the night.’ This is what had been said, ‘the beginning of the day and the beginning of the night,’ which he explains here by saying, ‘let them rule the day and the night.’ So we must understand that ‘beginning’ as rule, because in the day nothing among the things that are seen is more excellent than the sun, and at night nothing more than the moon or the stars. So that ambiguity need no longer trouble us, and let us believe that the stars were so set as to belong to the beginning, that is, the rule, of the night. ‘And God saw that it was good.’ The same order is kept. Let us remember, indeed, that God did not name these either, though it could have been said, ‘And God called the lights stars,’ since not every light is a star. ‘And evening came and morning came, a fourth day.’ If you consider these days which the rising and setting of the sun mark off, this is not the fourth but perhaps the first day — so that we may suppose that the sun rose at the time it was made, and set before the other stars were made. But whoever understands that the sun is elsewhere when it is night with us, and that it is night elsewhere when the sun is with us, will investigate the counting of these days at a higher level.

‘And God said: Let the waters bring forth creeping things of living souls, and flying things flying over the earth under the firmament of heaven. And so it was done.’ Are the swimming animals called creeping things because they do not walk on feet, or because there are others that creep on the ground under the water? For there are others in the waters that have fins, such as fish that have scales, or others that do not have them but still move by fins. Whether these are to be counted among the flying things in this place can be doubted. For why he assigned even the flying things to the waters, not to the air, is no small question. For we cannot take here only those birds to which the waters are familiar, such as divers and ducks and any of this kind. For if he had spoken only of these, he would not have failed to speak elsewhere of the other birds, among which some are so far removed from water that they do not even drink. Unless perhaps he called water this air which is next to the earth, since it shows itself to be moist even on the clearest nights by the dew, and because it is also condensed into cloud. And a cloud is water, as all perceive who have happened to walk among the clouds on mountains, or among the mists in the plains. It is in this air, indeed, that birds are said to fly. For in that higher and purer air, which is called air in the true sense by all, they cannot; for by its thinness it does not support their weight. In that air, it is asserted, neither do clouds form nor does anything stormy arise, since there is so little wind there that on the summit of Mount Olympus, which is said to rise above the region of this moist air, certain letters are reported to be customarily made in the dust and to be found a year later whole and undamaged by those who used to climb that mountain for solemn rites. Therefore it can, not absurdly, be supposed that the firmament of heaven in the divine scriptures is so called as far as these regions, so that that most tranquil and pure air too is believed to belong to the firmament. For by this name of firmament tranquility itself and a great part of things can be signified. Whence I think also what is said in several places in the Psalms: ‘And your truth reaches to the clouds.’ For nothing is firmer and more serene than truth. And the clouds form beneath that region of most pure air. Although this is taken as said figuratively, it is drawn from things that have a certain likeness to these, so that the more constant and purer bodily creation, which extends from the summit of heaven to the clouds — that is, to the misty, stormy, and moist air — seems rightly to bear the figure of truth. So the flying things flying over the earth under the firmament of heaven are fittingly assigned to the waters, because this air is not unfittingly called water. From this too we are given to understand that nothing was said of the air, how or when it was made, because this air is included under the name of waters and that other under the name of firmament; and so no element has been omitted. But perhaps someone may say: if from what was said, ‘Let the water be gathered,’ we understand that water was made from that confusion of matter, and God called this gathering sea, how can we understand that this air was made there, since it is not called sea, even if it can be called water? Therefore it seems to me that in what was said, ‘Let the dry land appear,’ not only the appearance of the earth but also that of this thicker air was presented. For through it the earth is lit so as to be visible to us. In the one word, then, by which it was said, ‘let it appear,’ all the things without which it could not appear were intimated: that is, its form, and its being laid bare of the waters, and the pouring over it of air, through which light is transmitted to it from the higher part of the world. Or rather, in what is written, ‘Let the water be gathered,’ is the form of this air presented, since this air, when condensed, seems to produce this water? Perhaps, then, he called the compression into density the gathering of the water, so that the sea would come to be, so that what is not gathered, that is, not thickened, and is spread above, would be water which could support flying birds, suited to both names, so that it can be called both thinner water and thicker air. But why is it not said when this was made? Or perhaps it is true, as some hold, that these breezes are produced by moist exhalations of sea and earth, so much thicker than that higher, clear air as to be suited to carrying flying birds, and so much finer than these waters in which the body is washed that by comparison with them they are felt to be dry and airy? And since he had already spoken of earth and sea, what need was there to speak of their exhalations, that is, of the waters of the birds, when you have understood that purest and most tranquil air to be assigned to the firmament? For neither was it said how springs and rivers were made. For those who inquire into and discuss these things more scrupulously say that a sweet vapor is drawn invisibly from the sea by an ethereal gliding above it, by ascents which we can in no way perceive; that from it the clouds are massed together, and so the earth, soaked with rains, trickles and sweats into its hidden caves as much as, gathered and flowing through various channels, bursts out into springs, either small or fit to produce rivers. As proof of this they cite that the vapor of boiled sea water, caught in a curved lid, offers a sweet moisture to those who taste it. And it is plain to almost everyone that diminished springs feel the lack of rains. Divine history also bears witness, when Elijah asked for rain in a time of drought; for while he himself prayed, he ordered Elisha to watch toward the sea. When he saw a very small cloud rising from it, he announced to the anxious king that rain was coming, by which he too was soon drenched as he fled. And David says: ‘Lord, who call the water of the sea and pour it out upon the face of the earth.’ So, the sea having been named, it would be superfluous to speak of other waters, whether these dewy ones which by their thinness give breezes to flying birds, or those of springs and rivers, if the former arise from exhalations and the latter flow from the returning rains which the earth absorbs.

‘Let the waters bring forth creeping things of living souls.’ Why was ‘living’ added? Can there be souls unless they live? Or did he wish to point to that more evident life which is in sentient animals, since plants lack it? ‘And flying things flying over the earth under the firmament of heaven.’ If flying things do not fly in that purest air where no clouds arise, it is plain from this that that air belongs to the firmament, since it is said that flying things fly over the earth under the firmament of heaven. ‘And so it was done.’ That order is kept, and therefore it is added as in the rest, except for the light, which was made first. ‘And God made great sea monsters and every soul of creeping animals which the waters brought forth according to their kind, and every winged flying thing according to its kind.’ Let us remember indeed that ‘according to its kind’ is said of those creatures which are renewed by propagation from seed; for this was already said of grasses and trees. ‘And every winged flying thing.’ Why was ‘winged’ added? Can there be a flying thing which has no wings? But if there can be, did God not make this kind, since it is not found where it was made? Or can anything at all fly without wings? For bats and locusts and flies, and anything of this kind which lacks feathers, does not lack wings. But ‘winged’ was added lest we understand birds alone, since fish have fins and fly over the earth beneath the waters; therefore it was not said ‘birds,’ but generally ‘winged flying thing.’ ‘And God saw that it was good.’ This too is to be understood as in the other places. ‘And God blessed them, saying: Increase and multiply and fill the waters of the sea; and let the flying things be multiplied upon the earth.’ He meant the blessing to serve fruitfulness, which appears in the succession of offspring, so that by that blessing those creatures which were created weak and mortal might preserve their kind by being born. But since plants too keep the likeness of those that pass away by being born, why did he not bless them? Is it because they lack sense, which is close to reason? For perhaps it is not without purpose that God uses the second person in blessing, so as in a way to address these animals as if they heard, saying: ‘Increase and multiply and fill the waters of the sea.’ Yet he is not found in the same person to the end of the blessing; for there follows: ‘And let the flying things be multiplied upon the earth’; he did not say, ‘Multiply upon the earth.’ Unless perhaps by this very fact it is signified that the sense of animals is not so close to reason that it can perfectly receive one who addresses it, as those beings can which understand and can use reason. ‘And it was done so.’ Here plainly anyone, however slow, ought now to wake up and understand what kind of days these are that are counted. For since God gave animals fixed numbers in their seeds, keeping a wonderful constancy by a fixed ordering, so that each according to its kind carries what it has conceived in the womb, and warms the eggs it has laid, for a fixed number of days — an ordinance of nature preserved by the Wisdom of God, who reaches mightily from end to end and orders all things sweetly — how could they in one day both conceive and grow heavy in the womb and warm and nourish what was born and fill the waters of the sea and multiply upon the earth? For so it is added: ‘and so it was done,’ before the coming of evening. But surely, when he says, ‘evening came,’ he refers to formless matter; and when he says, ‘morning came,’ to the form which was impressed on matter by the working itself. For in this way, after the working, he concludes the day as completed. Yet God did not say, ‘Let there be evening,’ or ‘Let there be morning’; for it is a very brief recalling of the things made, matter and form being signified by evening and morning, which it had already been said that God made; whereas the defect itself — when there is a tending from form to matter and to nothing — if we rightly think it is presented by the name of night, he did not say was made, but only ordered by God, when he said above, ‘God divided between the light and the darkness.’ So by the word evening formless matter is signified, which, although it was made from nothing, nevertheless is and has the capacity for appearances and forms. By the name of darkness can also be understood that very nothing which God did not make and from which he made whatever he deigned to make in his ineffable goodness, since he is almighty, who made so great things even from nothing. ‘And evening came and morning came, a fifth day.’ Here, after he said, ‘And so it was done,’ he did not add, as he usually does, the execution, as if they were made again; for it had already been said above. Nor by that blessing which concerns the begetting of offspring was any new nature being fashioned; rather, the things that had been made were preserved by succession. And therefore it was not said either, ‘And God saw that it was good’; for the thing itself had already pleased him, which only had to be preserved in its offspring. So nothing is repeated here except his saying, ‘And it was done so’; and at once evening and morning are added, by whose naming it has been said that the completed works are signified, from formless matter and the form imposed on it — unless perhaps something better and loftier occurs to those who inquire. ‘And God said: Let the earth bring forth the living soul according to its kind: of four-footed animals and serpents and beasts of the earth according to kind, and cattle according to kind. And it was done so.’ Why ‘living’ was added when ‘soul’ had been said, and what ‘according to kind’ means, and the usual conclusion in which it is said, ‘And it was done so,’ must be considered and taken as discussed above. But although in the Latin language every irrational animal is generally signified by the name of beasts, here the species must be distinguished, so that by four-footed animals we understand all beasts of burden, by serpents all creeping things, by beasts or wild animals all untamed four-footed animals, and by cattle the four-footed animals which do not help by working but give some produce to those who pasture them.

‘And God made the beasts of the earth according to kind, and the cattle according to kind, and all the serpents of the earth according to kind.’ This repetition, in that it was said, ‘And God made,’ when it had already been said, ‘And it was done so,’ should be considered according to the earlier rule. Here, indeed, I think that by the name of cattle all four-footed animals are signified which live under the care of men. ‘And God saw that it was good’: to be taken in the usual way. ‘And God said: Let us make man to our image and likeness.’ Here too a certain joining and distinguishing of living things must be noticed. For he says that man was made on the same day as the beasts; for all earthly living things belong together. And yet, because of the excellence of reason, according to which man is made to the image and likeness of God, he is spoken of separately, after the conclusion about the other earthly animals has been made in the usual way by saying, ‘And God saw that it was good.’ We must also consider that in the other cases God said, ‘Let there be, and it was made,’ but here God said, ‘Let us make,’ so that in this way too the Holy Spirit wished to convey the pre-eminence of human nature. And to whom was ‘Let us make’ said now, if not to the one to whom ‘Let there be’ was said in the other cases? For ‘all things were made through him, and without him nothing was made.’ But why do we think ‘Let there be’ was said in one way, unless that he should make at the Father's command; and ‘Let us make’ in another, unless that both should make together? Or does the Father make all that he makes through the Son, and was ‘Let us make’ said now so that it might be shown to man himself, for whose sake scripture itself was made, in himself, that what the Son makes at the Father's word the Father himself also makes — so that what was said in the other cases, ‘Let there be, and it was made,’ is explained here: that the speaking was not separate and the making separate, but both together, when it is said here, ‘Let us make’? ‘And God said: Let us make man to our image and likeness.’ Every image is like that of which it is the image; yet not everything that is like something is also its image. As in a mirror and a painting, because they are images, they are also like; yet if one was not born of the other, neither of them can be called the image of the other. For it is an image when it is expressed from something. Why, then, when it had been said ‘to the image,’ was ‘and likeness’ added, as if there could be an unlike image? It would therefore be enough to say ‘to the image.’ Or is ‘like’ one thing and ‘likeness’ another, as ‘chaste’ is one thing and ‘chastity’ another, ‘brave’ one thing and ‘bravery’ another, so that, just as whatever things are brave are brave by bravery, and whatever things are chaste are chaste by chastity, so whatever things are like are like by likeness? But our image is not quite properly said to be our likeness, though it is properly said to be like us; so that that likeness by which whatever things are like are like is there where chastity also is, by which whatever things are chaste are chaste. And chastity is chaste by participation in nothing, but by participation in it whatever things are chaste are chaste. This surely is in God, where also is that Wisdom which is not wise by participating, but by participation in which every soul that is wise is wise. Therefore the Likeness of God too, through whom all things were made, is properly called Likeness, because he is like not by participation in some likeness, but is himself the first Likeness, by participation in whom whatever things God made through him are like. So perhaps it is an explanation that ‘to the likeness’ was added when ‘to the image’ had already been said: to show that what was called the image is not like God as participating in some likeness, but is itself the Likeness in which all things participate that are said to be like. Just as chastity is there, by participation in which souls are chaste, and wisdom, by participation in which souls are wise, and beauty, by participation in which whatever things are beautiful are beautiful. For if he said only ‘likeness,’ he would not signify that it was begotten of him; but if he said only ‘image,’ he would signify that it was begotten of him, but would not signify that it was so like as to be not only like but Likeness itself. And as nothing is more chaste than chastity itself, nothing wiser than wisdom itself, and nothing more beautiful than beauty itself, so nothing more like than Likeness itself can be said or thought or be at all. Whence it is understood that his Likeness is so like the Father as to fill his nature most fully and most perfectly. But how much the Likeness of God, through whom all things were made, avails for imposing form on things — although it surpasses human thoughts most deeply — may nevertheless be estimated in some way if we consider that every nature, whether it presents itself to those who sense or to those who reason, preserves the image of the universe in parts like one another. For rational souls are called wise from the Wisdom of God, and this name is not extended further; for we cannot call any cattle, and much less trees or fire or air or water or earth, wise, although all these too exist, insofar as they exist, through that Wisdom of God. But we call stones and animals and men and angels like one another. And indeed in each single thing: the earth, because it has its parts like one another, comes to be earth; and water, any part of which is like the other parts, could not otherwise have been water; and any amount of air, if it were unlike the rest, could in no way have been air; and a particle of fire or light, because it is not unlike the remaining parts, comes to be what it is. So it can be discerned and understood of each of the stones or trees or of the body of any animal, that they would not exist, not only together with other things of their kind but in their single selves, unless they had parts like one another. And a body is the more beautiful, the more alike its parts are to one another. Further, among souls not only does the friendship of some with others come about through like characters, but also in each soul like actions and virtues, without which there can be no constancy, indicate the happy life. All these things we can call like, but not Likeness itself. Therefore, if the universe consists of things like one another, so that each single thing is whatever it is and all together complete the universe itself, which God both founded and governs, then surely through the supereminent, unchangeable, and undefilable Likeness of him who founded all things, such things were made that they are beautiful by parts like one another; yet not all things were made to that Likeness itself, but only the rational substance. Therefore all things were made through it, but not all to it. The rational substance, then, was made both through it and to it; for no nature is interposed, since the human mind — which it does not perceive except when it is most pure and most blessed — cleaves to nothing but the Truth itself, which is called the Likeness and Image of the Father and his Wisdom. Rightly, then, ‘Let us make man to our image and likeness’ is taken according to what is inner and principal in man, that is, according to the mind. For man as a whole is to be judged from that which holds the rule in man, which separates him from the beasts. The other things in him, although they are beautiful in their own kind, are nevertheless shared with the cattle and are therefore to be little regarded in man. Unless perhaps the fact that the shape of the human body is upright for looking at heaven also counts for something, so that the body itself may be believed to have been made to the likeness of God: that, just as that Likeness is not turned away from the Father, so the human body is not turned away from heaven, as the bodies of other animals are turned away, since they lie prone on their bellies. Yet this is not to be taken in every respect; for our body differs very greatly from heaven, whereas in that Likeness, which is the Son, there can be nothing unlike him to whom he is like, since whatever other things are like one another are also unlike in some respect, but Likeness itself is not unlike in any respect. The Father is only Father, and the Son is nothing other than Son; for even when he is called the Likeness of the Father, although this shows that no unlikeness intervenes, yet the Father is not alone, if he has a Likeness. ‘And God said: Let us make man to our image and likeness.’ What has been said above sufficiently explains these words of scripture, in which we read that God said, ‘Let us make man to our image and likeness,’ in the sense that the Likeness of God to which man was made can be taken as the Word of God himself, that is, the only-begotten Son; not, of course, that man himself is that same Image and Likeness equal to the Father. Yet man too is the image of God, as the apostle shows most plainly, saying: ‘A man ought not to veil his head, since he is the image and glory of God.’ But this image, made to the image of God, is not equal and coeternal with him whose image it is; nor would it be, even if it had never sinned at all. But that sense is rather to be chosen in these divine words, that we understand that ‘Let us make man to our image and likeness’ was said not in the singular but in the plural because man was made not to the image of the Father alone, or of the Son alone, or of the Holy Spirit alone, but of the Trinity itself. This Trinity is a Trinity in such a way that it is one God, and is one God in such a way that it is a Trinity. For he did not say, speaking to the Son, ‘Let us make man to your image,’ or ‘to my image,’ but he said in the plural, ‘to our image and likeness’; and who would dare to separate the Holy Spirit from this plurality? Since this plurality is not three gods but one God, we must therefore understand that scripture afterward continued in the singular and said, ‘And God made man to the image of God,’ so that it should not be taken as though God the Father made man to the image of God, that is, of his Son; otherwise, how is what was said, ‘to our image,’ true, if man was made to the image of the Son alone? And so, because what God said, ‘to our image,’ is true, it was said, ‘God made man to the image of God,’ as if it were said, ‘to his own image,’ which is the Trinity itself. But some think that ‘likeness’ was not repeated, and it was not said, ‘And God made man to the image and likeness of God,’ because then he was made only to the image, while the likeness was kept for him afterward, in the resurrection of the dead — as though there could be some image in which there is no likeness. For if it is not like at all, without doubt it is not an image either. But lest we seem to treat this by reason alone, the authority of the apostle James too must be brought in, who, speaking of man's tongue, said: ‘With it we bless God, and with it we curse men, who were made to the likeness of God.’