but rather when such a power is not in the soul—which is then not even wont to be called soul but only life, such as is said to be in the vine and the tree and in whatever plants, if indeed they can in any way be persuaded to have such a soul or such a life—which some heretics, erring too greatly, judge not only to perceive through a body, that is, to see and hear and discern heat and fire, but even to understand reason and to know our thoughts; but of these there is another question. Insensibility, therefore, is the darkness of this light by which each thing is perceived, when any given life does not have the very power of perceiving. And that this is fittingly called light, whoever grants that it is rightly called light by which anything whatever is made manifest, grants also this. But when we say:
'it is manifest that this is sonorous, it is manifest that this is sweet, it is manifest that this is cold,' and whatever of this kind we attain through the corporeal senses—this light, by which these things are manifest, is assuredly within, in the soul, although the things which are thus perceived are brought forward through the body. A third kind of light can be understood in creatures, that by which we reason. Contrary to this are darknesses, irrationality, such as are the souls of beasts.
Whether therefore this sentence would have us understand ethereal light, or sensory light in which animals share, or rational light which both angels and men have, to have been made by God first in the nature of things, it must be accepted that God divided between light and darkness by that very fact by which light was made, because one thing is light, another are those privations of light which God ordained among the contrary darknesses. For it is not said that God made darkness, since God made the species themselves, not the privations, which pertain to nothing—whence by God the craftsman all things were made; yet these privations too we understand to have been ordained by him, when it is said:
And God divided between light and darkness—lest even those very privations should not have their own order, God ruling and administering all things; just as in singing the interpositions of silences, at fixed and measured intervals, although they are privations of sounds, 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 whatever things are more prominent, and please not by their appearance but by their order. For God is not the author of our vices either; but he is nevertheless their ordainer, when he sets sinners in their place and compels them to suffer the things they deserve. To this pertains that the sheep are set on the right hand, but the goats on the left. Some things therefore God both makes and ordains;
but some things he only ordains. The just he both makes and ordains; sinners, however, insofar as they are sinners, he does not make but only ordains, seeing that when he sets these on the right and those on the left, and commands them to go into eternal fire, this pertains to the order of merits. Thus he both makes and ordains the species and natures themselves; but the privations of species and defects of natures he does not make but only ordains. Thus he said: Let there be light. And light was made; he did not say: Let there be darkness. And darkness was made. Of these therefore he made the one, the other he did not make, yet he ordained both, when God divided between light and darkness. Thus by his making, the individual things are beautiful, and by his ordaining, all things are beautiful.
And God called the light day, and the darkness he called night. Since 'light' is the name of some thing, and 'day' likewise, and 'darkness' and 'night' are each a name, ought it so to be said that names were imposed on things in such a way that the thing on which a name was imposed had also—for otherwise it could not—to be expressed by another name too? And was it thus said, 'God called the light day,' so that it could indifferently be said also conversely, 'God called the day light,' and 'he called the night darkness'? What shall we answer if someone should thus inquire of us: Was the name 'day' imposed on the light, or was the name 'light' imposed on the day? For these two, insofar as they are uttered by articulate voice to signify things, are certainly names. In this manner it can also be inquired concerning the other two:
Was the name 'night' imposed on the darkness, or was the name 'darkness' imposed on the night? And indeed, as Scripture prescribes, it is manifest that the name of the light was said to be day, and the name of the darkness was said to be night. For when he said: God made the light and divided between light and darkness, the matter was not yet of appellations; afterwards the appellations 'day' and 'night' were applied, since without doubt those too, 'light' and 'darkness,' are appellations, signifying certain things just as 'day' and 'night' do. Is this then to be taken so, that a thing which received a name could not be expressed otherwise except by some name? Or rather is this 'calling' to be taken as the distinction itself? For not all light is day, nor all darkness night;
but light and darkness, ordered and distinguished between themselves in fixed alternations, are called by the names of day and night. For every appellation avails for distinction: whence even the noun (nomen), which marks a thing, was called as it were a mark (notamen); and to mark is to distinguish and to aid the learner in discerning. Perhaps therefore this very 'dividing between light and darkness' is this 'calling the light day and the darkness night,' so that this ordaining of these should be the same as this naming of them. Or do these appellations mean to signify to us which light he called and which darkness? As if he said: God made the light and divided between light and 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. Likewise it can be asked which day he means and which night. If he would have that day taken which the rising of the sun begins and its setting closes, and that night which stretches from the sun's setting until its rising, I do not find how they could have existed before the luminaries of heaven were made. Or could the very spaces of hours and times, even without the distinction of brightness and shadow, already be so called?
And how does this alternation, which is signified by the name of day and night, fall upon that rational light—if this was signified—or the sensory light? Or were these intimated not according to what happens, but according to what can happen, since error can befall reason too, and a certain dullness the sense? And there was made evening, and there was made morning, one day. 'Day' is now not called in the same way as when it was said, 'And God called the light day,' but in that way in which we say, for example, that a month has thirty days: for here under the name of 'day' we include the nights too; but above 'day' was so called that it might be separated from night.
And so, when that operation of God performed through light was being intimated, consequently it is said that there was made evening and there was made morning, one day, so that there be, namely, one day from the begun day up to the begun day, that is, from morning to morning—such days as we call them, counting in the nights, as I said. But how was there made evening and there made morning? Or did God make the light and divide between light and darkness in as great a delay of time as is the length a shining day is stretched, that is, without the night being counted? And where is that which is written: For it is in your power to be able whenever you will? Is there need to God of a production of time in order to accomplish something?
Or were all things indeed perfected by God as it were in art and reason, not in the production of time, but in that very power which stably effects even those things which we perceive not to stand but to pass away? For even in our own speech, though some words pass and others succeed, it is not credible that this happens in the art itself, by whose stable working the artful discourse comes forth. Although, therefore, God works without the production of time—he in whose power it is to be able when he wills—yet the temporal natures themselves carry out their motions temporally. Thus therefore perhaps it was said, 'And there was made evening and there was made morning, one day,' just as by reason it is foreseen that it ought or can so be done, not as it is done by the stretches of time.
For it was not the very reason of the operations that he contemplated in the Holy Spirit, who said: He who abides forever created all things at once; but most conveniently in this book the narration of the things made by God is arranged as it were through intervals of delays, so that that very disposition—which could not be seen by weaker minds in a stable contemplation—being set forth through this kind of order of discourse, might be as it were beheld with these eyes. And God said: Let there be a firmament in the midst of the water, and let it be dividing between water and water. And so it was made. And God made the firmament, and divided between the water which was under the firmament and the water which was above the firmament. Are the waters above the firmament such as those visible ones beneath the firmament?
Or, because it seems to signify that water over which the Spirit was borne, and which we understood to be the very matter of the world, is this also in this place to be believed to be separated by the interposition of the firmament, so that the lower is corporeal matter, the upper animate? For this he calls 'firmament,' which afterwards he calls heaven. Now than the celestial body there is nothing better among bodies. For some bodies are celestial, others terrestrial, and the celestial are assuredly better; whatever transcends their nature I know not how it could any longer be called a body—but it is perhaps a certain power subjected to reason, by which reason God and truth are known:
which nature, because it is formable by virtue and prudence, by whose vigor its fluidity is restrained and constrained, and on this account appears as it were material, has rightly been called 'water' by divine authority—not by spatial location but by the merit of an incorporeal nature exceeding the compass of the corporeal heaven. And since he called the heaven 'firmament,' it is not absurdly understood that whatever is beneath the ethereal heaven, in which all things are at peace and firm, is more changeable and more dissoluble. This kind of corporeal matter, before it received species and the distinction of forms, from which it is named under the firmament—there were those who believed these visible and cold waters to embrace the surface of the heaven from above.
And they tried to adduce as proof the slowness of one star among the seven wandering ones, which is higher than the rest and is called by the Greeks Phaenon, and traverses the zodiacal circle in thirty years, so that on this account it is slow because it is nearer to the cold waters which are above the heaven. Which opinion I know not how it can be defended among those who have inquired most subtly into these matters. But none of these things is to be rashly affirmed; rather all things are to be treated cautiously and modestly. And God said: Let there be a firmament in the midst of the water, and let it be dividing between water and water. And so it was made. After he said, 'so it was made,' what need was there again to add:
And God made the firmament, and divided between the water which was under the firmament and the water which was above the firmament? For when he had said above: And God said, Let there be light. And light was made, he did not again add: And God made the light; but here, after God said, Let there be, and so it was made, there was added: And God made.
Does it hence appear that that light ought not to be understood as corporeal—lest God be seen to have made it with some creature interposed (and by 'God' I mean the Trinity)—but that this firmament of heaven, because it is corporeal, is to be believed to have received species and form through an incorporeal creature, so that first it was rationally impressed by truth upon the incorporeal nature what was to be corporeally impressed, so that the firmament of heaven might come to be; and therefore that which was set down, 'And God said, Let there be, and so it was made,' was perhaps first made in the rational nature itself, whence the species might be impressed upon the body? But when it was added:
And God made the firmament, and divided between the water which was under the firmament and the water which was above the firmament—is the very operation in that matter, so that the body of heaven might come to be, thereby signified? Or perhaps for the sake of variety, so that the text of the discourse might not fall into tedium, what is set down below is not set down above, and one ought not scrupulously to scrutinize everything? Let each choose what he can; only let him not rashly and as known bring forward something unknown, and let him remember that he is a man inquiring about the divine works so far as is permitted. And God called the firmament heaven. What was treated above concerning the 'calling' can here too be considered; for not every firmament is heaven. And God saw that it was good.
And what was treated above concerning this let it be retreated, except that I do not see the same order. For above: And God saw the light, that it was good, and afterwards then is subjoined: God divided between light and darkness; and God called the light day, and the darkness he called night. But here, after that which was said to be made has been narrated as made, and after the firmament was called heaven, then it is said: And God saw that it was good. And if this was thus varied not for the sake of avoiding tedium, we are certainly compelled to understand that which was said: And God made all things at once.
For why did he there first see that it was good and afterwards impose a name, but here first impose a name and afterwards see that it was good—unless because this indifference signifies that there are no intervals of delays in the operation of God, although they are found in the works themselves? But according to an interval of delays, one thing is effected first and another afterwards, without which the narration of things made cannot be, although without these God could have effected these things. And there was made evening, and there was made morning, a second day. This has already been treated above, and I think the same reasonings avail here too. And God said: Let the waters which are under heaven be gathered together into one gathering, and let the dry land appear. And so it was made.
Hence it can more probably be believed that 'water' was said above, as we supposed, to be the very matter of the world. For if the universe was filled with water, whence or whither could it be gathered together? For if by the name 'water' he had called a certain material confusion, this 'gathering together' is to be taken as the very formation, so that there might be such a species of water as we now perceive to be. And that very 'let the dry land appear,' which is set down, can be understood as the formation of the earth, so that the earth might have this species which we perceive. For it had been called invisible and unformed, while as yet the species of matter was lacking. God therefore said: Let the water which is under heaven be gathered together; that is, let corporeal matter be brought into form, so that it may be this water which we perceive by sense.
Into one gathering: the very power of form is commended by the name of unity. For this is truly to be formed, to be brought into some one thing, since supremely One is the principle of every form. And let the dry land appear: that is, let it receive a visible species and one distinct from confusion. And well is the water gathered together, that the dry land may appear; that is, what fluctuates of matter is restrained, so that what is obscure may be illumined. And so it was made: perhaps this too was first made in the reasons of the intellectual nature, so that afterwards that which is said—'And the water was gathered together into one gathering, and the dry land appeared'—might not seem to be added superfluously, when it had already been said:
And so it was made—but rather so that after the rational and incorporeal operation we might understand also a corporeal one to have followed. And God called the dry land earth, and the gathering of the water he called sea. Still that reason of appellations works with us; for not all water is sea, nor all dry land earth. Therefore what would be water and what dry land had to be segregated by appellations. But that the very distinction and formation was the 'calling' of God can not absurdly still be understood. And God saw that it was good. And here this very order has been kept; wherefore let those things which have already been treated be conferred upon this too. And God said:
Let the earth bring forth the herb of fodder bearing seed according to its own kind and likeness, and the fruitful tree making fruit, whose seed be in itself according to its own likeness. After earth and sea were made and named and approved—which, as we have often said, is not to be taken as intervals of delays, lest some slowness attend the ineffable capacity of the working God—there is not at once subjoined, as on the two preceding days, 'there was made evening and there was made morning, a third day,' but there is added another operation, that the earth bring forth the herb of fodder bearing seed according to its own kind and likeness, and the fruit-bearing tree making fruit, whose seed be in itself according to its own likeness.
Which was not said of that light and the firmament and the waters and the dry land; for that light does not have the offshoot of succession, nor is another heaven born of heaven, nor do earth or sea beget other seas and other lands to succeed them. Here therefore it had to be said: bearing seed according to its own kind and likeness, and whose seed be in itself according to its own likeness, where the likeness of those being born preserves the likeness of that which passes away. Now all these things are upon 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 a certain manner separated from it:
For this reason I judge that the meaning proper to this kind of thing is preserved in that narrative, because although they were made on the same day on which the dry land appeared, God nonetheless spoke again, that the earth should bring forth vegetation, and again it is said: and so it was done. Then, according to the earlier pattern, after it is said, 'and so it was done,' there is added the execution itself: and the earth brought forth grass yielding fodder that bears seed according to its kind, and the fruit-bearing tree making fruit whose seed is in itself according to its own likeness; and again it says: God saw that it was good.
And so these things are both joined together on one day and, by the repetition of God's words, distinguished from one another. This, I think, was not done in the case of the earth and the sea, because the nature of these things must rather be discerned as things which, since they arise and pass away, are propagated by the succession of seed. Or is it because the earth and the sea could come to be simultaneously, not only in the reasons of the spiritual creature, where all things were made at once, but also in the very bodily movement, whereas trees and any kind of plants could not be born unless the earth in which they were to sprout had gone before? For this reason the command of God had also to be repeated, so that the things made might be signified as distinct, yet not to be made on a different day, because they are fixed to the roots of the earth and joined continuously to it.
But it may be asked why God did not impose names upon these. Or was it passed over because their multitude did not allow it? This question, however, will be better considered later, when we shall observe other things which God did not name, as he named the light and the heaven and the earth and the sea. And there was evening and there was morning, the third day. And God said: Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven, to give light 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 brightness in the firmament of heaven, to give light upon the earth. On the fourth day the lights were made, of which it is said: and let them be for days. What then do the three days mean that passed without lights?
Or why shall these be for days, if even without them days could exist? Or is it because that stretching-forth of time and the interval of delay can be more evidently distinguished by men through the motion of these lights? Or does this enumeration of days and nights serve to distinguish between that nature which was not made and those which were made, so that 'morning' is named on account of their form as things made, but 'evening' on account of privation?
For inasmuch as it pertains to him by whom they were made, they are comely and beautiful; but inasmuch as it lies in themselves, they can fail, because they were made out of nothing; and in so far as they do not fail, this belongs not to their own matter, which is out of nothing, but to him who supremely is and makes them to be in their kind and order. And God said: Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven that they may give light. Is this said only of the fixed stars, or also of the wandering ones? But two lights, the greater and the lesser, are numbered among the wandering stars. How then were all things made in the firmament, since the several wandering bodies each possess their own spheres or circles?
Or is it because in the Scriptures we read both of many heavens and of a single heaven, as in this place, when 'heaven' and 'firmament' are named, we must understand that the whole of this ethereal machine is meant, which contains all the stars, beneath which flourishes the serenity of pure and tranquil air, beneath which likewise this turbulent and stormy air is stirred? That they may give light upon the earth and divide between day and night. Had not God already divided between the light and the darkness, and called the light day and called the darkness night? From which it appears that he divided between day and night. What then is now meant, when it is said of the lights: and let them divide between day and night?
Or is this division now made through the lights in such a way that it may be known even to men who use only their carnal eyes to contemplate these things, whereas God had in truth made that division before the circuit of the lights, so that now it cannot be seen except by a few who use the Holy Spirit and serene reason? Or did God divide between one day and another night, that is, between the form which he was imprinting upon that formlessness, and the formlessness which still remained to be formed? But this present day and this night, whose alternation is observed as the heaven revolves, are of another kind, an alternation which could not occur 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 what he said, 'for signs,' made plain what he said:
and 'for seasons,' lest signs be taken to be one thing and seasons another. For he now calls these 'seasons' which, by the distinction of their intervals, signify that the immutable eternity remains above them, so that time may appear 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: that days come about by the revolution of the fixed stars, but years are manifest ones when the sun traverses the zodiacal circle, and more obscure ones when each of the wandering stars does the same in its own orbits. For he did not say 'and for months,' because perhaps a month is the year of the moon;
just as twelve lunar years are the year of that star which the Greeks call 'Zeus' (Jupiter), and thirty solar years are the year of that star which is called 'Phainon' (Saturn). And perhaps thus, when all the stars have returned to the same point, the Great Year is completed, of which many have said many things. Or does he say 'for signs' those by which the fixed course of sailing is signified, but 'for seasons' such as the spring season and summer and autumn and winter, because these too are varied by the revolution of the stars and keep their alternations and order, while 'for days and for years' is to be taken as has already been explained? And let them be for brightness in the firmament of heaven, to give light upon the earth. It had already been said above: Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven, to give light upon the earth;
why do we think it was repeated? Or is it that, just as it was said of the plants that they should bear seed and that seed should be in them according to their own kind and likeness, so here, on the contrary, it was said of the lights: let them come to 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 preserved. 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 'the beginning of the day' and 'the beginning of the night' means will soon appear. But as to his adding 'and the stars,' it is ambiguous whether they pertain to the beginning of the night or not. Some, however, hold that here it is signified that the moon was first made full, because the full moon rises at the beginning of the night, that is, soon after the setting of the sun.
But that is absurd, that we should take the beginning of our reckoning not from the first day but from the sixteenth or fifteenth. Nor should it disturb us that the light which was made ought to have been made perfect. For it is perfect on every day; but its perfection is not seen by men except when it is set opposite the sun on the contrary side. For even when it is placed together with the sun, since it is beneath it, it seems to be diminished; yet even then it is full, because it is illumined 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 few words but by subtle discussions and by the demonstration of certain visible figures. And God set them in the firmament of heaven, to give light upon the earth. How did he say:
Let them come to be in the firmament; and how does he now say: God made the lights and set them in the firmament, as though they were made outside and afterward placed there, when it had already been said that they should come to be there? Or is it hereby again and again signified that God did not make them as men are wont to do, but that the account was given as it could be given to men? Namely, that among men 'he made' is one thing and 'he set' another, but with God both are the same, since by making he sets and by setting he makes? And let them rule over the day and the night and divide between day and night. This is what had been said, 'the beginning of the day and the beginning of the night,' which he here explains by saying: let them rule over the day and the night.
Therefore we ought to understand that 'beginning' as sovereignty, because both in the day there is nothing more excellent among the things that are seen than the sun, and in the night nothing more excellent than the moon or the stars. Hence let that ambiguity no longer trouble us, and let us believe that the stars are so placed that they pertain to the beginning of the night, that is, to its sovereignty. And God saw that it was good. The same order is preserved. Let us indeed remember that these also God did not name, though it could have been said: and God called the lights stars, because not every light is a star.