Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven, so that they may shine upon the earth for the beginning of day and night, and that they may 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 a splendour in the firmament of heaven, so that they may shine upon the earth. And it was done so. And God made two great lights, the greater light for the beginning of the day and the lesser light for the beginning of the night, and the stars; and God set them in the firmament of heaven, so that they may shine upon the earth, and that they may be for the beginning of day and night, and that they may divide between light and darkness. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening, and there was morning, the fourth day.
In this fourth day it must be asked what this arrangement intends: that water and earth should first either be made or separated, and that the earth should first bring forth vegetation, before the stars were made in heaven. For we cannot say that the better things were chosen, by which the series of days was so distinguished that the end and the middle should stand out most conspicuously; for the fourth is the middle of the seven days. There occurs indeed this consideration, that on the seventh day no creature was made. Or does perhaps the light of the first day correspond rather to the rest of the seventh, so that in that way, with the extremities harmonizing, this order of things may be woven together, with the lights of heaven standing out from the middle? But if the first day harmonizes with the seventh, then the second ought also to harmonize with the sixth.
But what likeness has the firmament of heaven with man made to the image of God? Or is it because heaven occupies the whole upper part of the world, and to man was granted the power of dominion over the whole lower part? But what shall we do about the cattle and beasts, which the earth produced after their kinds on that same sixth day? What comparison can there be between them and heaven? Or rather, since it is understood that the formation of the spiritual creation was first made under the name of light, it followed consequently that the corporeal creation also — that is, this visible world — should be made, which was made in two days on account of its two greatest parts, of which the universe consists, namely heaven and earth?
According to this comparison of reasoning, by which the whole creation itself, both spiritual and corporeal, is often named 'heaven and earth' — so that this globe of the more turbulent air is also reckoned to the earthly part (for it takes on body from moist exhalations), while if there is any calm air, where windy and stormy motions cannot arise, it belongs to the heavenly part — after this whole mass of corporeal bulk was fabricated, which is entire in one place, where the world is situated, it followed consequently that it should be filled with parts within the universe, which should be driven from place to place by fitting motions. Of which kind herbs and trees are not.
For these are fixed to the earth by roots and, although they have the motions of their own growth, yet they are not moved from their proper places by their own efforts, but where they are fixed, there they are nourished and grow; therefore they belong rather to the earth than to those kinds of things which move in the waters and on the lands. Since therefore two days were assigned to the establishing of the visible world, that is, of heaven and earth, it remains that the three remaining days be allotted to these mobile and visible parts which are created within it;
And since, just as heaven was made first, so it is to be first arranged with its own such parts, on the fourth day the stars are made, by whose shining above the earth the lower dwelling place too may be illumined, lest its inhabitants be led into a dark habitation. And therefore, because the weak bodies of the lower inhabitants are restored by a rest that succeeds their motions, it came about that, with the sun circling round and the alternation of day and night, they might enjoy the alternation of sleeping and waking; while that night should not remain unbecoming, but by the light of the moon and stars should both console those very men — for whom often there is even a nocturnal necessity of working — and be tempered to sufficiency for certain animals which cannot bear the light of the sun.
But as for that which was said: 'and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and for years' — who does not see how obscurely it is stated that on the fourth day the seasons began, as though the preceding three days could have passed without time? Who then penetrates in mind how those three days passed before the seasons began — which are said to begin on the fourth day — or whether those days passed at all? Or was 'day' named with reference to the form of a thing made, and 'night' with reference to privation? So that, when matter was not yet formed with form, from which the rest were to be formed, it was called 'night' — just as, even in formed things, the formlessness of matter can nevertheless be understood from their very mutability;
For it cannot be distinguished by intervals of places, as though more remote, nor of times, as though prior. Or rather, in the very thing made and formed, that same mutability — that is, so to speak, the 'able-to-be-deficient-ness' — was called 'night,' because it is inherent in things made, even if they are not changed, that they can be changed? But 'evening' and 'morning' are named not as through the passing and coming of time, but through a certain boundary by which is understood how far the measure of a nature properly extends, whence the beginning of another nature consequently arises. Or is there some other reasoning of these words to be more diligently investigated? Who can easily break into so great a secret, and say what those 'signs' are which he speaks of concerning the stars, when he says: 'and let them be for signs'?
For he does not speak of those things which to observe is a matter of vanity, but assuredly of things useful and necessary for the uses of this life, which either sailors observe in steering, or all men observe for foreseeing the qualities of the air through summer and winter and the autumnal and vernal mildness. And no doubt he calls these 'seasons,' which come about through the stars — not intervals of delay, but the alternations of the affections of this heaven. For if any bodily or spiritual motion preceded the establishment of these lights, so as to carry over something from future expectation, through the present, into the past, it could not have been without time. And who could maintain that time did not exist except from the establishment of the stars?
But the fixed hours and days and years which we customarily know would not come about except by the motions of the stars. And so, if we understand seasons, days, and years in this way — as certain articulations which we compute by clocks, or which are most well known in the heaven, when the sun rises from the east up to its meridian height and thence again inclines toward the west, so that one may thereafter observe either the moon or some star emerging from the east immediately after the setting of the sun (which likewise, when it has come to the meridian height of the sky, indicates midnight, and is then about to set when, with the sun returning, it becomes morning); while whole 'days' are the circuits of the sun from east to west;
And 'years' either these customary revolutions of the sun — not when it returns to the east, which it does daily, but when it returns to the same places among the stars, which it does not do except after three hundred and sixty-five days and six hours have been completed, that is, a quarter of a whole day, which portion, taken four times, forces one day to be interposed (which the Romans call 'bissextum'), so that a return may be made to the same circuit — or even the greater and more hidden years; for when the courses of other stars are completed, greater years are said to come about — : if therefore we understand seasons, days, years in this way, no one doubts that these come about by the stars and lights. For it is stated in such a way that it is uncertain whether that which was said, 'let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and for years,' pertains to all the stars,
Or whether 'signs' and 'seasons' pertain to the rest, but 'days' and 'years' to the sun alone. Of what kind also the moon was made, many inquire most loquaciously. And would that in inquiring they would speak, and not rather attempt to teach! For they say that it was therefore made full, because it was not fitting that God should make anything imperfect among the stars on that day on which it is written that the stars were made. But those who resist say: then it ought to have been called the first moon, not the fourteenth; for who begins to count in that way? But I am in the middle between these, in such a way that I assert neither, but plainly say: whether God made the moon first or full, He made it perfect. For God is the author and founder of the natures themselves.
But every thing whatsoever that, by natural progress, in some way comes forth and unfolds through fitting times, contained it even beforehand hidden — if not in the form or bulk of a body, yet in the power and reason of nature. Unless perhaps a tree, which through winter is empty of fruits and stripped of leaves, is then to be called imperfect; or indeed in its very beginnings, when it had as yet given no fruit, that nature was imperfect. Which could rightly be said not only of the tree, but not even of its very seed, wherein all things that in some way proceed by the progress of time lie hidden in invisible modes. Although, if God were said to have made something imperfect, which He himself would afterwards perfect, what reprehension would that opinion have?
But it would rightly be displeasing, if that which had been begun by Him were said to have been perfected by another. Those therefore who do not complain about the earth, which God made when 'in the beginning He made heaven and earth,' because it was invisible and without order and afterwards on the third day is rendered conspicuous and set in order — why do they make for themselves darknesses of questions concerning the moon? Or if what was said about the earth they understand to have been said not with an interval of time, since God created matter together with things, but by the distribution of the narrative, why in this matter — which can even be seen with the eyes — do they not observe that the moon has an entire body and is perfect in all its roundness, even when with a horned light it either begins to shine toward the lands or shines as it wanes?
If therefore the light in it grows or is perfected or is diminished, it is not the luminary itself, but that which is kindled, that is varied; but if it always shines from one part of its little sphere, yet, while it turns that part toward the earth until it turns the whole — which happens from the first to the fourteenth day — it seems to grow, it is always full, but does not always appear to the inhabitants of the earth. This same reasoning holds, even if it is illumined by the rays of the sun. For not even thus, when it is nearest to the sun, can it appear except with luminous horns, because the rest of its part, which is wholly illumined in its orb, is not toward the lands so as to be able to be seen, except when it is opposite to the sun, so that the whole of what its illuminated part is may appear to the lands.
There are not lacking, however, those who say that they think the moon was originally made by God on the fourteenth day, not because it must be believed to have been made full, but because in the Scriptures the words of God run thus: 'the moon made for the beginning of the night'; but it is then seen at the beginning of the night when it is full, whereas at other times it begins to be seen even by day before its fullness, and, as night advances, by so much the more amply as it wanes. But he who by 'the beginning of the night' understands nothing but the rule — for the Greek word rather indicates this, when it was said 'archēn,' and in the Psalms it is written more openly: 'the sun for the rule of the day, the moon and stars for the rule of the night' — is not compelled to count from the fourteenth and to believe that the moon, made first, was not the first.
It is also wont to be asked whether these conspicuous luminaries of the heaven — that is, the sun and moon and stars — shine equally, but, because they stand at different distances from the earth, therefore appear to our eyes with different brightness, more or less. And concerning the moon indeed, those who say these things do not doubt that it shines less than the sun, by which they also affirm that it is illumined. But they dare to say that many stars are either equal to the sun or even greater, but, being placed farther off, appear small. And for us indeed it can perhaps suffice — however this matter may stand — that the stars were founded by God the maker. Although we hold that it was said by apostolic authority: 'one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars;'
For one star differs from another star in glory. But because they can still say — even if they do not resist the Apostle — 'they differ indeed in glory, but to the eyes of earthly beings'; or, because the Apostle was saying this on account of the likeness of those who rise again, who assuredly will be otherwise to the eyes and otherwise in themselves, 'the stars differ indeed also in themselves in glory, but nevertheless some are even greater than the sun'; let them see for themselves how they attribute so great a primacy to the sun, that they say it both holds by its rays certain stars — and those indeed the principal ones, to which they supplicate more than to the rest — and drives them backward from their proper course. For it does not become likely that stars greater than, or even equal to, the sun could be overcome by the violence of its rays.
Or if they assert that the higher stars of the constellations, or of the northern regions, are greater — which suffer nothing of that sort from the sun — why do they venerate more those which go about through the signs of the zodiac? Why do they declare them the mistresses of the signs? For even if anyone should contend that those retrogradations of the stars, or perhaps their slownesses, are brought about not by the sun but by other more hidden causes, yet it is certainly manifest from their own books that they attribute a chief power to the sun in those deliriums of theirs, by which, straying from the truth, they suspect the force of the fates. But let them say what they will about heaven — they who are estranged from the Father who is in heaven;
But for us it is neither expedient nor fitting to inquire something more subtle concerning the intervals and magnitude of the stars, and to spend upon such an investigation the time necessary for weightier and better matters. And we believe it to be better that those two luminaries are greater than the rest, which holy Scripture thus commends: 'and God made two great lights' — which nevertheless are not equal. For consequently it says, when it has set them before the rest, that between themselves they differ. For it says: 'the greater light for the beginning of the day, and the lesser light for the beginning of the night.' Certainly they will concede even this to our eyes, that it is manifest that these shine more amply
than the rest in shining above the earth; and that the day is not bright except by the light of the sun, nor does the night, with so many stars appearing, shine in such a way — if the moon be absent — as it is illumined by the presence of that one. But concerning the fates, whatever subtleties of theirs, and as it were the experimental proofs of demonstrations from astrology which they call 'apotelesmata,' let us wholly reject them from the soundness of our faith; for by such disputations they attempt to take away from us even the reasons for prayer, and with impious perversity, in evil deeds which are most rightly reprehended, they thrust in that God the author of the stars should rather be accused than man the author of crimes. But that our souls are not by nature subject to bodies, not even to heavenly ones, let them hear even their own philosophers;
But that those higher bodies are not more powerful over earthly bodies with respect to the things which they themselves treat of — let them recognize this at least from this: that when many bodies of diverse kinds, whether of animals or of herbs and shrubs, are sown at one and the same point of time, and innumerably many are born at one point of time, not only in diverse but even in the same places of the earth, there are such great varieties in their growths, in their actions and passions, that truly these men, as it is said, 'lose the stars' if they consider these things. But what is more insipid and duller than, when they are refuted by these matters, to say that the fatal reasoning of the stars pertains only to men, to be subjected to them?
In which matter, however, they themselves are refuted even by twins, of whom, though living diversely, being diversely fortunate or unfortunate and dying diversely, most often receive the same constellations; because, even if there was some interval when they were poured forth from the womb, yet in some cases there is only so much interval as cannot be grasped by those men by computation. The hand of Jacob following was found, while they were being born, holding the foot of the brother going before; to such a degree were they so born, as though one infant twice as long were seen to be born. Of these certainly the constellations, as they call them, could in no way have been different.
What therefore is more vain than that the astrologer, gazing at those constellations, should say, at the same horoscope, at the same moon, that one of them was beloved by the mother, the other not beloved? For if he said otherwise, he would certainly say what is false; but if he said this, he would say what is indeed true, but not according to the inept little chantings of his books. But if to this history, because it is brought forth from our own writings, they are unwilling to give credence — can they even abolish the nature of things? Since therefore they say that they are by no means deceived if they have found the hour of conception, let them at least, as men, not disdain to consider the conception of twins. And therefore it must be confessed that, when true things are said by these men, they are said by a certain most hidden instinct, which human minds, unknowingly, undergo.
And when this happens for the deceiving of men, it is the operation of seducing spirits; to whom it is permitted to know certain true things concerning temporal matters — partly by the sharpness of a more subtle sense, because they are vigorous in more subtle bodies; partly by a more cunning experience, on account of so great a length of life; partly by the holy angels revealing to them, at His command, that which they themselves learn from almighty God, who distributes human merits with the sincerity of a most hidden justice. But sometimes those same wicked spirits also foretell, as though by divining, even the things which they themselves are about to do.
Wherefore by a good Christian, whether astrologers or any who impiously divine — especially those who speak true things — are to be shunned, lest by consorting with demons the soul, having been deceived, be ensnared by a certain pact of fellowship. It is also wont to be asked whether these conspicuous luminaries of the heaven are bodies alone, or have certain governing spirits of their own; and, if they have, whether by these they are even vitally inspired, as flesh is animated through the souls of animals, or only a presence without any commixture. And although this cannot easily be comprehended, I think nevertheless that in the progress of treating the Scriptures more opportune places may occur, where concerning this matter, according to the rules of holy authority, it will be permitted us, even if not to show anything certain, yet to believe.
But now, always preserving the moderation of a pious seriousness, we ought to believe nothing rashly concerning an obscure matter, lest perchance that which the truth may afterwards make plain — although it can in no way be contrary to the holy books, whether of the Old Testament or of the New — we should nevertheless, on account of love of our own error, come to hate. Now let us pass on to the third book of our work. And God said: Let the waters bring forth reptiles of living souls and flying creatures above the earth according to the firmament of heaven. And it was done so. And God made great whales and every reptile animal which the waters brought forth after their kind, and every winged fowl after its kind. And God saw that they were good. And God blessed them, saying:
Increase and multiply and fill the waters in the sea, and let the flying creatures be multiplied upon the earth. And there was evening, and there was morning, the fifth day. Now in the lower part of the world those things which are moved by the spirit of life come into being, and first those of the waters, which is the element nearest to the quality of air; because to this heaven, in which the luminaries are, the air is so near that it too has received the name of 'heaven'; but I know not whether it can also be called 'firmament.' Now 'heavens' are spoken of in the plural in one and the same thing, which is called 'one heaven.' For although in this book 'heaven' is spoken of in the singular number, which 'divides between the waters'
those which are above, and those which are below — yet in that Psalm it says: 'and the waters which are above the heavens, let them praise the name of the Lord.' And 'the heavens of heavens,' if we rightly understand the starry heavens as being of the airy ones, as it were the higher of the lower — and we take these also in the same Psalm, where it was said: 'Praise Him, ye heavens of heavens' — it appears sufficiently that this air is called not only 'heaven' but even 'heavens,' just as 'earths' too are spoken of, and nothing else is signified than that which in the singular is called 'earth,' when we say 'the orb of the earths' and 'the orb of the earth.' We read too, in a certain one of those epistles which are called canonical, that these airy heavens once perished by the deluge.
For that watery nature, which had so accumulated that it surpassed by fifteen cubits the summits of the highest mountains, could not have reached to the stars. But because it had filled either all or nearly all the spaces of this more humid air, in which the birds fly, it is written in that epistle that the heavens which existed perished. Which I know not how it can be understood, except by the quality of this thicker air being converted into the nature of waters; otherwise those heavens did not then perish, but were raised more sublimely, when the water occupied their place.
And so, according to the authority of that epistle, we more easily believe that they perished, and that others, as is there written, were laid up in store — that is, with the exhalations stretched out again — than that they were so raised up that the nature of the higher heaven should yield its place to them. It was therefore fitting that, in creating the inhabitants of this lower part of the world (which is often commemorated in its entirety by the name of 'earth'), animals should first be produced from the waters, and afterwards from the earth; because water is so similar to air that it is proved to grow dense from its exhalations, so as both to make the spirit of the storm — that is, wind — and to draw together clouds, and to be able to sustain the flights of birds. Wherefore, even if a certain one of the secular poets spoke truly: 'Olympus rises above the clouds,' and:
'they hold peace, the great heights' — because it is reported that on the summit of Olympus the air is so thin that it is neither shadowed by mists nor disturbed by wind, nor can it sustain winged creatures, nor nourish even those men who perhaps have ascended, with the breath of a thicker atmosphere, as they are accustomed to in this air of ours — yet it too is air, whence it is diffused by a quality neighbouring to the waters, and therefore it too is believed to have been converted into a humid nature at the time of the deluge. For it is not to be supposed that anything of the spaces of the starry heaven was usurped, when the water had surpassed even all the highest mountains.
Although concerning the conversion of the elements there is no small question even among those very men who have most subtly scrutinized these idle concerns. For some say that all things can be changed and converted into all things; but others assert that there is something altogether proper to each of the elements, which is in no way turned into the quality of another element. Whence in its own place, perhaps, if the Lord shall will, we shall dispute more diligently; but now, as far as pertains to the present discourse, I have thought these things worth mentioning, that we may understand the order of things to have been preserved, whereby it was first fitting to relate the animals of the waters as created before those of the lands. And it is in no way to be supposed that any element of this world was passed over in this Scripture, since it is agreed that it consists of four most well-known elements, because here heaven and water and earth seem to be commemorated, but of air there is silence.
It is indeed the custom of our Scriptures either to designate the world by the name of heaven and earth, or sometimes to add the sea as well. The air, therefore, is understood to belong either to the heaven — if there are in its upper regions any tranquil and altogether peaceful spaces — or to the earth on account of this turbulent and murky region, which grows dense with a moist exhalation, although it too is more often called by the name of heaven. And for this reason it is not written, 'Let the waters bring forth creeping things of living souls, and let the air bring forth fowl that fly above the earth,' but both these kinds of living creatures are said to have been brought forth from the waters.
Whatever, then, belongs to the waters — whether it flows and billows in slippery fashion, or is thinned into vapour and held aloft — is so distributed that the former appears assigned to the creeping things of living souls, the latter to the flying creatures; yet both are to be reckoned as of a moist nature. And for this reason there are also those who, by a most subtle consideration, distinguish these five most evident senses of the body according to the four customary elements, so as to say that the eyes pertain to fire and the ears to air. But the sense of smell and of taste they assign to the moist nature: smell indeed to those moist exhalations by which this space is thickened, in which the birds fly about, but taste to those fluid and corporeal humours.
For whatever things have flavour in the mouth are mingled with the very moisture of the mouth in order to have taste, even though they may have seemed dry when they were taken in. Fire, however, penetrates all things, so as to produce motion in them; for moisture too congeals through the deprivation of heat, and, whereas the other elements can grow hot, fire cannot grow cold — for it is more easily extinguished, so as to be no longer fire, than it remains cold or becomes lukewarm through contact with something cold. But touch, which is the fifth among the senses, agrees rather with the earthly element; hence it is throughout the whole body of the living creature, which is chiefly of earth, that things touched are perceived.
They say also that nothing can be seen without fire nor touched without earth, and that on this account all the elements are present in all things, but that each of them has received its name from that which it possesses in greater abundance; and that, through the deprivation of heat, when the body grows exceedingly cold, the sense is dulled, because the motion grows sluggish which is present in the body from heat — since fire acts upon air, air upon moist things, and moisture upon earthly things, the finer things of course penetrating the grosser. And the finer a thing is in bodily nature, the nearer it is to the spiritual nature, although its kind is far distant, since the one is body and the other is not.
And for this reason, since to perceive belongs not to the body but to the soul acting through the body, however subtly it may be argued that the senses of the body are distributed according to the diversity of the corporeal elements, nevertheless the soul, in which the power of perceiving resides, since it is not corporeal, drives the vigour of perception through the more subtle body. And so it begins the motion in all the senses from the subtlety of fire, but does not in all of them arrive at the same point. For in sight it arrives, the heat being restrained, as far as its light; in hearing the heat of fire penetrates as far as the more fluid air; in smell it passes through the pure air and arrives at the moist exhalation, whence this thicker breath subsists. In taste it passes through this too and arrives as far as the more corporeal humour;