神學短論 第 3 章

PROEM. Anxiously indeed and long have you urged that we should speak of that question which was raised in the assembly. But since you too, that you might not come, were distracted by an engagement, and I shall on the morrow be entangled in appointed business, I commit to letters the things which I had reserved to be spoken face to face. For you remember that, when the epistle was read in the council, it was recited that the Eutychians confess Christ to consist of two natures, but deny that he is in two; whereas the Catholics give credence to both statements; for among the followers of the true faith it is equally believed both that he consists of two natures, and that he is in two.

Struck by the novelty of this saying, I was inquiring into the differences of those conjunctions which consist of two natures or in two; reckoning, namely, that there is much that bears on the matter, and I do not think it should be passed over with idle negligence, since the bishop who wrote the epistle, as something most necessary, had been unwilling to pass it over. Here all were clamouring, in a disordered and confused manner, that the difference was plain, and that there was nothing of obscurity in it; nor was there found, amid so great a tumult, anyone who might lightly touch the question, much less anyone who might unravel it.

I had taken my seat far from him whom I most desired to behold; and indeed so far—if you recall the situation of those seated—turned away and with many persons set opposite, that, even if I had most painfully desired it, I could not catch sight of his countenance and nod, from which some signs of his judgment might be given to me. And I indeed brought nothing more than the rest, nay rather even something less; for, the matter having been proposed, I felt equally nothing along with the rest, but I brought less than the rest, namely the presumption of false knowledge. I bore it most grievously, I confess, and, hemmed in by the throng of the unlearned, I held my peace, fearing lest I should justly seem mad, if I should contend to be held sane among the frenzied.

I was therefore thenceforth meditating in my mind upon all the questions, nor did I gulp down what I had received, but, by the repeated iteration of frequent reflection, I chewed it over. At length, therefore, the doors lay open to the soul that knocked, and the truth, found by the seeker, disclosed all the mists of the Eutychian error. Whence it most of all came upon me to marvel: what indeed was this audacity of unlearned men, who attempt to overcloud the vice of ignorance with a cloud of presumption and impudence, when not only do they often not know that which is proposed, but in disputes of this kind do not even understand that which they themselves are saying; as though the cause of ignorance should become the worse while it is covered up.

But I pass from them to you, to whom I first transmit this matter, however slight it is, to be examined and weighed beforehand. And if you pronounce it to be rightly disposed, I ask that you insert this also among the writings of my name; but if either something must be diminished, or added, or varied by some change, I likewise request that it too be sent back to my copies, in such a way that it may return from you to be transcribed; and when these things, brought to a finish, have been settled, then at last I shall transmit it to be judged by the judgment of him by whose verdict I am wont. But since the matter is once transferred from conversation to the pen, let first the errors of Nestorius and Eutyches, contrary to each other in the extreme, be removed; afterward, however, with God's help, I shall temper the middle way of the Christian faith.

But since in the whole question of the heresies contrary to each other the dispute is concerning persons and natures, these must first be defined and separated by their proper differences. CHAPTER I. What nature is. Nature, then, can be predicated either of bodies alone, or of substances alone—that is, of corporeal and incorporeal things—or of all things which are said in any way to exist. Since, therefore, nature can be predicated in three modes, it must without doubt be defined in three modes. For if it be pleasing to predicate nature of all things, such a definition will be given as can include all things which exist. It will therefore be of this kind: Nature belongs to those things which, since they exist, can in some manner be grasped by the intellect.

In this definition, therefore, both accidents and substances are defined; for all these things can be grasped by the intellect. But the phrase 'in some manner' was added, since God and matter cannot be understood by a whole and perfect intellect, but are nevertheless grasped, in some manner, by the privation of the other things. For this reason, moreover, we adjoined 'which, since they exist,' because even nothing itself signifies something, but not a nature. For it does not signify that there is something, but rather that there is not: now every nature exists; and if it be pleasing to predicate nature of all things, let this be the definition of nature which we set down above;

but if nature is predicated of substances alone, since all substances are either corporeal or incorporeal, we shall give a definition of nature signifying substances, of this kind: Nature is that which either is able to act, or able to be acted upon: to be acted upon indeed and to act, as all corporeal things and the soul of corporeal things; for these both act and are acted upon in a body and by a body; but to act only, as God and the rest of divine things. You have, therefore, the definition also of that signification of nature which is applied only to substances. In which matter the definition of substance too has been rendered: for if the name of nature points to substance, when we have described nature, the description of substance also has been assigned.

But if the name 'nature' is confined to corporeal substances, so that only bodily things are held to possess the nature of a substance—as Aristotle and the other followers of that and similar schools of philosophy suppose—we shall define it as do even those who hold that nature exists nowhere but in bodies. Its definition is then as follows: Nature is the principle of motion belonging to a thing in itself, not by accident. When I said 'principle of motion,' I meant that every body has its own proper motion: fire upward, earth downward. Again, when I proposed that nature is a principle of motion in virtue of itself and not by accident, the case is this: a wooden bed too must necessarily be carried downward, yet it is not carried downward by accident.

For it is because it is wood—which is earth—that it is drawn down by weight and gravity; it does not fall downward because it is a bed, but because it is earth, that is, because it happened that what was earth became a bed. Hence we say that wood exists naturally, but a bed artificially. There is also another signification of 'nature,' by which we say that the nature of gold and of silver is different, wishing thereby to show the proper character of things; and according to this signification nature is defined in this way: Nature is the specific difference that gives form to each particular thing. Since, therefore, nature is said and defined in so many ways, both the Catholics and Nestorius, according to the last

definition, hold that there are two natures in Christ, since the same differences cannot fittingly belong to God and to man. CHAPTER II. What a Person Is. But concerning 'person' the greatest doubt may arise, as to what definition can be fitted to it. For if every nature has a person, there is an insoluble knot as to what distinction can exist between nature and person; or, if person is not equated with nature but subsists below the boundary and extent of nature, it is hard to say to which natures person extends—that is, which natures it is fitting should have a person, and which should be separated from the term 'person.'

For this indeed is manifest, that person is subject to nature, and that person cannot be predicated apart from nature. These matters, therefore, must be investigated by inquiring thus: since person cannot exist apart from nature, and since of the things called 'natures' some are substances and some accidents, and we see that a person cannot be constituted among accidents—for who would say that there is any person of whiteness, or of blackness, or of magnitude?—it remains, then, that it is fitting for person to be predicated of substances. But of substances some are corporeal, others incorporeal; of corporeal ones some are living, others not at all. Of living ones some are sensible, others not; of sensible ones some are rational, others irrational.

Of rational ones, one is by nature immutable and impassible, as God; another is mutable and passible by reason of creation, unless by the grace of an impassible substance it be changed into the firmness of impassibility, as is the case with the angels and the rational soul. From all of which it is manifest that a person cannot be said of non-living bodies—for no one says there is any person of a stone; nor again of those living things which lack sense, for there is no person of a tree; nor indeed of that which is bereft of intellect and reason, for there is no person of a horse or an ox, nor of the other animals which, dumb and without reason, pass their life by the senses alone.

But we say that there is a person of man, we say of God, we say of an angel. Again, of substances some are universal, others particular. Universals are those that are predicated of individuals, as man, animal, stone, wood, and the rest of this kind, which are either genera or species: for 'man' is predicated of individual men, and 'animal' of individual animals, and 'stone' and 'wood' of individual stones and pieces of wood. Particulars, on the other hand, are those which are predicated of no others, as Cicero, Plato, this stone from which this statue of Achilles was made, this wood from which this table was composed. But in all these, nowhere can a person be said of universals, but only of singulars and individuals;

for there is no person of animal or of man in general, but the persons of Cicero or of Plato or of the several individuals are called several persons. CHAPTER III. The Difference between Nature and Person. Wherefore, if person exists only in substances, and in these the rational ones, and every substance is a nature, and it consists not in universals but in individuals, the definition of person has been found: A person is the individual substance of a rational nature. But by this definition we have determined that which the Greeks call hypostasis. For the name 'person' seems to be derived from elsewhere—namely, from those masks which in comedies and tragedies represented the men whose part was being acted.

Now 'persona' is said from 'personando' (sounding through), with a circumflex on the penultimate syllable. But if it be accented on the antepenultimate, it will plainly appear to be derived from 'sound' (sonus). And it is from 'sound' for this reason: that within that very hollow the sound must necessarily be rolled and amplified. The Greeks too call these masks prosopa, from the fact that they are placed upon the face and cover the countenance before the eyes—'para tou pros tous opas tithesthai' (from being placed against the eyes). But since, when the masks were brought in, the actors represented in tragedy or comedy, as has been said, the individual men whose part it was—that is, Hecuba, or Medea, or Simo, or Chremes—therefore the Latins also called 'persona,' and the Greeks 'prosopa,' the other men too, whose recognition was fixed according to their own form.

But far more aptly did the Greeks call the individual subsistence of a rational nature by the name of hypostasis; whereas we, through the poverty of significant words, have retained a transferred appellation, calling that which they call hypostasis a 'person.' But Greece, more skilled in language, calls the individual subsistence hypostasis; and, to use the Greek speech in matters which, treated by the Greeks, have been carried over into Latin translation: 'Hai ousiai en men tois katholou einai dunantai, en de tois kata meros monois hyphistantai'—that is, Essences can indeed exist in universals, but they have substantial being only in individuals and particulars. For the understanding of universal things is taken from particulars.

Wherefore, since these very subsistences exist in universals but receive substantial being in particulars, they rightly named subsistences that subsist in a particular manner hypostaseis. For to one who looks more deeply and subtly, subsistence will not seem to be the same as substance; for what the Greeks call ousiosis or ousiosthai, that we call 'subsistence' or 'to subsist'; but what they call hyphistasthai, that we interpret as 'substance' or 'to substand.' For that subsists which does not itself need accidents in order to be; but that substands which is set under as a kind of subject to other accidents, in order that they may be able to exist; for it stands under them, since it is the subject of accidents.

And so genera and species only subsist, for accidents do not befall genera or species. But individuals not only subsist but also substand: for they themselves do not need accidents in order to be, since they are already informed by their own and specific differences; and they furnish to accidents the means by which they can exist, while they are, of course, the subjects. Wherefore einai and ousiosthai are understood as 'to be' and 'to subsist'; but hyphistasthai as 'to substand.' For Greece is not destitute of words, as Marcus Tullius jests; but it renders essence, subsistence, substance, person by just as many names: calling essence ousia, subsistence ousiosis, substance hypostasis, person prosopon.

And the Greeks called individual substances hypostaseis for this reason: that they underlie the rest, and are set under and made subject to certain things as if to accidents; and therefore we too call them 'substances,' as it were 'set under' (suppositae), which they call hypostaseis. And since they also call these same substances prosopa, we too can call them 'persons.' It is therefore the same thing to be ousia and to be essence; the same to be ousiosis and subsistence; the same to be hypostasis and substance; the same is prosopon as person.

But the reason why the Greek does not say hypostasis of irrational animals, as we predicate the name 'substance' of those same animals, is this: that this name has been applied to better things, so that something—that which is more excellent—might be distinguished, even though not by a description of nature and according to that which is 'to subsist' (hyphistasthai) and 'to substand,' yet at least by the words hypostasis or 'substance.' There is therefore both the essence of man, that is ousia, and subsistence, that is ousiosis, and hypostasis, that is substance, and prosopon, that is person: ousia indeed and essence, because he is; ousiosis and subsistence, because he is in no subject;

hypostasis indeed and substance, because it underlies the rest, namely those which are not subsistences, that is the ousioseis: it is prosopon and person, because it is a rational individual. God too is both ousia and essence; for he is, and most of all he himself is, from whom proceeds the being of all things. He is ousiosis, that is subsistence; for he subsists needing nothing, and is hyphistasthai—he substands. Hence also we say that there is one ousia or ousiosis—that is, one essence or subsistence—of the Godhead; but three hypostaseis, that is three substances. And indeed, according to this manner, they have spoken of one essence of the Trinity, three substances, and three persons.

For unless the ecclesiastical usage of speech excluded three substances in God, it might therefore seem that 'substance' is said of God not because he himself is set under as a kind of subject to other things, but because, just as he presides over all, so also he as it were underlies things as their principle, while he furnishes to them all 'to be made to subsist' (ousiosthai), or to subsist. CHAPTER IV. Against Nestorius, that the Person Is One. But let all these things have been said for this purpose, that we might show the difference of nature and person, that is of ousia and hypostasis; but by what name each ought to be called, let that be the judgment of ecclesiastical speech.

Meanwhile let this stand fast, that we have said above that nature and person differ, since Nature is the specified property of any substance; but Person is the individual substance of a rational nature. This person Nestorius made twofold in Christ, being led, of course, into that error because he thought that a person could be spoken of in all natures. For on this assumption, since he held that there was a twofold nature in Christ, he also confessed that there was a twofold person. That he is false in this matter, both the definition stated above convicts, and this argument will clearly declare his error.

For if there is not one person of Christ, and it is manifest that there are two natures, namely of man and of God (nor is anyone so foolish as to sunder either of them from reason), it follows that there appear to be two persons: for a person is, as has been said, the individual subsistence of a rational nature. What, then, is the conjunction that has been made of man and God? Is it as when two bodies are set beside one another, so that they are joined only in place, and nothing passes into the one from the quality of the other—a mode of conjunction which the Greeks call kata parathesin (by juxtaposition)? But if humanity is thus conjoined to divinity, nothing has been composed out of the two, and through this Christ is nothing.

But if, with two persons remaining, that conjunction of the natures, such as we described above, was made, nothing could be effected as one out of two: for out of two persons absolutely nothing can ever come to be. Therefore Christ, according to Nestorius, is nothing as one, and through this absolutely nothing: for that which is not one cannot exist at all; for 'to be' and 'to be one' are convertible, and whatever is, is one; even those things which are joined together out of many, as a heap, a chorus, are nevertheless one. But we manifestly and truly confess Christ to be: we say therefore that Christ is one. And if this is so, it is necessary, without doubt, that there be also one person of Christ: for if there were two persons, he could not be one.

But to say that Christ is two is nothing else than the madness of a headlong mind: for why should anyone dare at all to call there two Christs—one a man, the other God? Or why does he call him who is God 'Christ,' if he is also going to call him who is man 'Christ,' when they have nothing similar, nothing conjoined by their coupling?

Why should he misuse a like name for natures most utterly diverse, when, if he is compelled to define Christ by both (as he himself says) the Christs, he cannot apply one substance to the definition? For if the substance of God and of man is different, and the name of Christ in both is one, and the conjunction of the diverse substances is not believed to have made one person, then 'Christ' is an equivocal name, and can be concluded by no definition. But in which Scriptures is the name of Christ ever doubled? And what new thing has been effected through the coming of the Savior? For to Catholics both the truth of faith and the rarity of the miracle stand firm.

For how great a thing it is, and how new, which can happen but once and in no other age: that with the human nature, which was most utterly diverse from him, there should be united that of him who alone is by nature God; and that thus, out of natures standing apart, there should come to be by union one person. But according to the opinion of Nestorius, what new thing has happened? 'Humanity and divinity,' he says, 'preserve their proper persons.' For when was there not a person proper to the divinity and to the humanity? And when will there not be? Or what more happened in the generation of Jesus than in that of any other whatever, if, the two persons being distinct, the natures also were distinct?

For thus, the persons remaining, there could be there no conjunction of the natures, just as in any man whatever, since he subsists with his own person, there is no divinity—the most excellent substance—conjoined to him. But granted that he calls God himself by the appellation of Christ, why does he not also dare to call by a like name the very elements through which God works certain wonders by daily motions? Is it because irrational substances cannot have a person which could receive the name of Christ?

Is not the open working of Divinity recognized in holy men conspicuous for their piety? For it will make no difference why he should not deem holy men also worthy of the same appellation, if, in the assumption of humanity, there is not one person in the conjunction. But perhaps he may say that those too are called christs: I admit it, but according to the image of the true Christ. But if no one person has been conjoined out of man and God, we shall reckon all to be true christs in the same way as this one who is believed to have been born of the Virgin: for indeed in him no person has been united out of the coupling of God and man, just as neither in those who, by the Spirit of God, foretold of the Christ who was to come, on account of which they too were called christs.

Now indeed it follows that, the persons remaining, humanity can in no way be believed to have been assumed by the divinity: for those things are utterly disjoined which are equally separated in persons and natures; utterly disjoined, I say. Nor are men and oxen more disjoined among themselves than divinity in Christ is distinct from humanity, if the persons have remained. For men and oxen are indeed joined by one community of animal nature: for they have, according to genus, a common substance, and the same nature in the collection of universality. But what will not be disjoined by a diverse rationale between God and man, if, under the diversity of nature, a distinction of persons too is believed to have remained?

Therefore the human race has not been saved, no salvation has proceeded to us by the generation of Christ, the Scriptures of so many prophets have deluded the believing people; let all the authority of the Old Testament be spurned, through which salvation is promised to the world by the generation of Christ. But it is manifest that it has not come to pass, if there is the same diversity in person as in nature: for he saved that very one whom he is believed to have assumed; but no assumption can be understood, if the distinction of nature and person remains equally. Therefore he who could not be assumed, the person remaining, will rightly not seem able to have been saved through the generation of Christ. The nature of men, therefore, has not been saved through the generation of Christ—which it is impious to believe.

But although there are very many arguments able to assail and break down this view, yet it suffices for the present to have sipped these few from the abundance of arguments. CHAPTER V. Against Eutyches, that the Body of Christ Was Truly Assumed from Mary. We must indeed pass on to Eutyches, who, having wandered from the tracks of the ancients, ran into the contrary error; asserting that so far is it from being believed that there is a twofold person in Christ, that one ought not even to confess a twofold nature in him; that the man was assumed in such a way that there was effected such a unition with God that the human nature did not remain. His error springs from the same source as that of Nestorius.

For just as Nestorius judges that there cannot be a twofold nature without the person becoming twofold, and therefore, since he confessed a twofold nature in Christ, believed there to be a twofold person, so too Eutyches did not think a nature twofold without a doubling of the person; and since he did not confess a twofold person, he judged it consequent that there should appear to be one nature.

And so Nestorius, rightly holding that there is a twofold nature in Christ, sacrilegiously confesses that there are two natures; but Eutyches, rightly believing that there is one person, impiously believes that there is also one nature. When he is convicted by the evidence of facts—since it is manifest that the nature of man is one thing, the nature of God another—he says that he confesses two natures in Christ before the unition, but one after the unition. This opinion does not openly express what it intends. Yet, that we may scrutinize his madness: this unition was made either at the time of generation or at the time of resurrection.

But if it was made at the time of generation, he seems to think that even before the generation there was human flesh, not taken from Mary, but prepared in some other way; and that the Virgin Mary was merely brought forward, from whom flesh should be born which was not taken from her; but that that flesh, which existed before, was divided and separated from the substance of the divinity; and that when he was born of the Virgin, it was united to God, so that one nature seemed to have been made. Or, if this is not his opinion, there could be that of one saying that there were two before the unition, one after the unition, if the unition was accomplished by generation, so that he took a body indeed from Mary, but that, before he took it, the nature of deity and of humanity was diverse;

but that, once taken, it was made one, and passed over into the substance of the divinity. But if he thinks this unition was made not by generation but by resurrection, he will again judge that this happens in two ways: either Christ having been begotten and not taking a body from Mary, or, the flesh having been assumed from her until he should rise again, there were indeed two natures, but after the resurrection one was made. From which arises that disjunctive which we shall ask in this manner: Christ, born of Mary, either drew human flesh from her, or not at all. If he does not confess that he drew it from her, let him say with what man he came clothed; whether with him who had fallen by the prevarication of sin, or with another? If with him from whose seed man is derived, what was the divinity clothed with?

For if it was not from the seed of Abraham and David, and lastly of Mary, that flesh was in which he was born, let him show from what man's flesh it was derived: since, after the first man, all human flesh is derived from human flesh. But if he names some man, from whom the generation of the Savior was taken, besides the Virgin Mary, he too is confounded by error, and will seem—himself deluded—to ascribe a mark of falsehood to the supreme Divinity; since what is promised to Abraham and David in the holy oracles, namely that from their seed salvation should arise for the whole world, he would assign to others; especially since, if human flesh was assumed, it could not be assumed from anywhere else than whence he was also procreated.

If, therefore, the human body was not taken from Mary, but from some other, and yet was procreated through Mary—that which had been corrupted by the prevarication—it is refuted by the argument stated above. But if Christ was not clothed with that man who had endured death as the penalty of sin, this will follow: that such a one could be born of no man's seed who should be without the penalty of original sin. From none, therefore, was such flesh taken—whence it comes about that it seems to have been newly formed. But this either appeared to the eyes of men in such a way that it was thought to be a human body, when in truth it was not human, inasmuch as it lay subject to no original penalty;

or else some new but true nature of man, not subject to the penalty of original sin, was formed for a time. If it was not a true body of man, the divinity is openly convicted of having lied, which displayed to men a body which, when it was not true, then those were deceived who reckoned it to be true. But if a new and true flesh, not taken from man, was formed, to what end so great a tragedy of the generation? Where the circuit of the passion? For thus indeed I think it not foolishly done—not even in a man—that which was done uselessly. To what true usefulness will be brought about so great a humility of the Divinity, if man, who perished, has not been saved by the generation and passion of Christ, since he is denied to have been assumed?

Again, therefore, just as the error of Eutyches took its origin from the same source as Nestorius, so it falls back to the same end: that according to Eutyches too the human race was not saved, since he who was sick and needed salvation and cure was not assumed. He seems to have drawn this opinion—if indeed this was his error—so as to believe that the body of Christ was not truly from man, but formed outside and by God in heaven; since, he is believed to have ascended into heaven with that, which contains such an example: 'No one ascends into heaven save he who descended from heaven.' CHAPTER VI. That neither divinity was translated into humanity, nor humanity into divinity, nor were the two mingled.

But it seems enough has been said about that part, if the body which Christ took on is not believed to have been assumed from Mary. But if it was assumed from Mary and the perfect human and divine nature did not remain, this could be effected in three ways: for either the divinity was translated into the humanity, or the humanity into the divinity, or both were so tempered and commingled into each other that neither substance retained its proper form. But that divinity was translated into humanity has been shown to be a thing which it is impious to believe—that the divinity should be turned into humanity, its immutable substance not remaining; and that what is by nature passible and mutable should remain immutable;

and that what is by nature believed to be immutable and impassible should be turned into a mutable thing. This, therefore, can by no reasoning come to pass. But perhaps the human nature may seem to have been converted into deity. But how can this happen, if the divinity in the generation of Christ took up both a human soul and a body? For not every thing can be turned and transmuted into every thing: for since of substances some are corporeal, others incorporeal, neither can a corporeal be changed into an incorporeal, nor an incorporeal into that which is a body. Nor indeed do incorporeals change their proper forms into one another in turn: for those things alone can be changed and transformed into one another which have the common subject of one matter;

and not even all of these, but only those which can both act and be acted upon in relation to one another. This indeed is proved in this manner: for bronze cannot be changed into stone, nor again the same bronze into grass, nor can any other body whatever be transfigured into any other whatever, unless the matter of the things passing into one another be the same, and they can both act and be acted upon by one another: as when wine and water are mixed, both are such things as can communicate to each other action and passion.

For the quality of water can suffer something from the quality of wine, and therefore, if there be much water but only a little wine, they are not said to be intermingled, but the one is corrupted by the quality of the other. For if anyone pour wine into the sea, the wine is not mixed with the sea, but corrupted in the sea, for this reason: that the quality of the water, by the multitude of its own body, has suffered nothing from the quality of the wine, but rather has changed the quality of the wine into itself by its own multitude. But if they be moderate and equal to one another, or natures slightly unequal, which can act and be acted upon by one another, these are mixed and are tempered with one another by their moderate qualities.

And these things indeed take place in bodies, and not in all of them, but only in those which (as has been said) can both act and be acted upon by one another, having a common and the same matter as their subject. For every body which subsists in generation and corruption seems to have a common matter; but not every one can either do something or suffer something from every one, or in every one. But corporeal things can by no reasoning be transmuted into incorporeal, since they share no common matter as subject, which, on receiving qualities, might be changed into either: for every nature of incorporeal substance rests upon no foundation of matter;

but there is no body to which matter is not subject. Since this is so, and since not even those things which naturally have a common matter pass into one another, unless there be present in them the power of acting and being acted upon in and by themselves, much more will those things not be mutable into one another which not only have no common matter, but where one thing rests upon a foundation of matter, as a body, while the other has absolutely no need of a subject of matter, as the incorporeal. It is therefore not possible that a body should be changed into an incorporeal species; nor indeed is it possible that incorporeals should be changed into one another by any commingling. For of those things whose matter is no common one, neither can they be turned and transmuted into one another. But to incorporeal things there is no matter.

They cannot, therefore, be mutually interchanged. But the soul and God are rightly believed to be incorporeal substances; therefore the human soul has not been changed into the divinity by which it was assumed. But if neither the body nor the soul could be turned into the divinity, in no way could it come about that the humanity should be converted into God. Much less, indeed, can it be believed that the two should be fused together into one another, since neither can incorporeality pass over into body, nor again, conversely, body into incorporeality; for there is no common matter underlying these, which could be transmuted into the qualities of either of the two substances. But these men say thus: that Christ does indeed consist of two natures, but not at all in two natures.

They mean this, namely, that what consists of two things can become one in such a way that those things from which it is said to be composed do not remain; just as when honey is mingled with water, neither remains, but the one, corrupted by union with the other, has made some third thing. So that which becomes a third thing out of honey and water is said to consist of both, but is denied to be in both; for it will not be able to consist in both, since the nature of each does not endure. For it can consist of both, even though the things from which it is joined have each been corrupted in their quality.

But it will not be able to consist of both in this manner, because those things which have been transfused into one another do not remain, nor are there both those things of which it would seem to consist, since they consist of both transfused into one another by a mutation of qualities. But Catholics reasonably confess both; for they hold that Christ is both of two natures and consists in two natures. But by what reasoning this is said I shall explain a little later.

Now this is manifest, that the opinion of Eutyches has been refuted on this ground: that, whereas one subsistence can come to be from two natures in three ways—either by the divinity being translated into the humanity, or the humanity into the divinity, or by both being commingled—it is declared by the argument set forth above that none of these ways could come to pass. CHAPTER VII. That Christ consists both in and of two natures. It remains for us to show, as the Catholic faith says, that Christ both consists in two natures and of two natures. That something consists of two natures signifies two things: one, when we say that something is joined of two natures, as out of honey and water.

And this means: things confused in any manner whatsoever—whether one is turned into the other, or both are mingled together into one another—yet in no way do both remain. According to this manner Eutyches says that Christ consists of two natures. But there is another manner of consisting of two things, namely, when something is so joined of two that those things of which it is said to be joined nevertheless remain and are not turned into one another; as when we say a crown is composed of gold and gems. Here neither is the gold translated into gems, nor the gems turned into gold, but both remain and do not abandon their proper form. Such things, therefore, composed of certain elements, we say consist in those of which they are predicated to consist.

For then we can say that the crown consists of gems and gold; for there are gems and gold of which the crown consists. For in the former manner, there is not honey and water in which that which is joined of both consists. Since, therefore, the Catholic faith confesses that both natures remain in Christ, and that these same persist perfect, and that neither is transmuted into the other, it rightly says that Christ both consists in two natures and of two natures: in two natures, indeed, because both remain; of two natures, indeed, because by the uniting of the two that remain there comes to be one person of Christ. But the Catholic faith does not hold that Christ is joined of two natures according to that signification by which Eutyches pronounces it.

For he takes such a signification of the conjunction from each nature that he does not confess that Christ consists in two natures, nor that both remain. But the Catholic takes that signification of consisting of two natures which is nearest to that, and preserves the one which confesses that Christ consists in two natures. The phrase 'to consist of two natures' is therefore equivocal, or rather ambiguous, designating two different things by a twofold signification: by one signification, that the substances do not remain of which that which has been coupled is said to be conjoined; in another way signifying that it is so joined of two natures that both remain.

This knot of equivocation and ambiguity being thus untied, there is nothing further that can be objected, to prevent its being that which the firm and true Catholic faith contains: that the same Christ is a perfect man, the same is God, and the same one who is a perfect man and God is one God and the Son of God; nor is a quaternity built up in the Trinity when man is added above the perfect God, but one and the same person fills out the number of the Trinity—so that, though the humanity has suffered, God nevertheless is said to have suffered; not that the deity itself became humanity, but that it was assumed by the deity. Likewise, he who is a man is called the Son of God, not by the substance of the divinity, but of the humanity, which nevertheless is conjoined to the divinity by a natural union.

And although these natures, thus understood, are spoken of and intermingled, nevertheless one and the same is both perfect man and God: God indeed, in that he was begotten of the substance of the Father; man indeed, in that he was procreated of the Virgin Mary. And likewise he who is man is God, because he was assumed by God; and he who is God is man, because he was clothed with man: since in the same person the divinity which took up is one thing, and the humanity which it took up is another; yet the same is both God and man. For if you understand Christ as man, the same is man and God; because man by nature, God by assumption. But if you understand him as God, the same is God and man; because by nature he is God, man by assumption.

And there comes to be in him a twofold nature and a twofold substance, since he is man-God; and one person, since the same is man and God. And this is the middle way between two heresies, just as the virtues also hold to the mean. For every virtue is established and consists in the comely middle of things, since if it should come to be either beyond or below what it ought, virtue is departed from: virtue therefore holds the mean. Wherefore, if these four cannot be in Christ in any other way, then either there are two natures and two persons, as Nestorius says; or one person and one nature, as Eutyches says; or two natures but one person, as the Catholic faith believes; or one nature and two persons. And since indeed two natures and two persons...

...we have confuted, in the reply made against Nestorius; and we have demonstrated, when Eutyches proposes it, that there cannot be one person and one nature; and since no one has hitherto existed so mad as to believe that there is one nature in him but two persons; it remains that that is true which the Catholic faith proclaims: that there is a twofold substance, but one person.

But since we said a little before that Eutyches confesses two natures in Christ before the union, but one after the union, and since we interpreted this error as concealing a twofold opinion—namely, that this union came about either by generation, when the body of the man was by no means taken from Mary, or, the body being indeed taken from Mary, that the union came about through the resurrection—concerning both parts, I think, it has been suitably argued. Now it must be inquired how it could come about that two natures should be mingled into one substance. CHAPTER VIII. What was the state of Christ's life.

Nevertheless there is even now another question which can be raised by those who do not believe that the human body was taken from Mary, but that it was otherwise set apart and prepared, so that in the union it should seem to be born from Mary's womb and brought forth. For they say: if the body was taken from a man, but every man, from the first transgression, was held not only by sin and death but was also entangled in the affections of sins, and this was the penalty of sin for him—that, while he was bound fast by death, he was nevertheless guilty also by the will to sin—why in Christ was there neither sin nor any will to sin? And altogether such a question has a doubt that deserves to be noted.

For if Christ's body was assumed from human flesh, it can be doubted what this flesh which was assumed may seem to be: for he indeed saved him whom he also assumed. But if he assumed such a man as Adam was before sin, he seems to have assumed an entire human nature, but one which had no need whatever of medicine. But how can it come about that he assumed such a man as Adam was, since in Adam there could be a will and affection to sin?—whence it came about that, by transgressing the divine precepts, he was held bound by the offenses of disobedience. But in Christ no will at all to sin is believed to have existed.

Especially since, if he assumed such a body of man as Adam's was before sin, he ought not to have been mortal, since Adam, had he not sinned, would by no reason have experienced death. Since therefore Christ did not sin, it must be inquired why he experienced death, if he assumed Adam's body as it was before he sinned. But if he took on such a state of man as Adam's was after sin, it seems that even in Christ there was not lacking the necessity both of being subjected to offenses and of being confounded by passions, and, the rules of judgment being overdrawn, of not discerning good from evil with unblemished integrity—since Adam took on all these penalties by the transgression of his offense.

Against these it must be answered that three states of men can be understood. One indeed is that of Adam before the offense, in which, although death was absent from him, and he had not yet polluted himself with any offense, there could nevertheless be in him a will to sin. The second is that into which he could have been changed, had he willed to remain firmly in God's precepts: for then it would have to be added that he should not only not sin, or will to sin, but could not even sin, or will to transgress. The third state is after the offense, in which death necessarily followed him, and sin itself and the will to sin. And the places of these extremes and contraries are as follows: there is that state which would have been the reward, had Adam willed to remain in God's precepts;

and there is that which became the penalty, because he did not will to remain: for in the former there would be neither death, nor sin, nor any will to sin; but in the latter, both death and sin, and every inclination to transgress, and all things prone to ruin, and having nothing of help in themselves whereby, after the fall, he might be able to rise again. But that middle state, in which the presence of death or of sin was indeed absent, but the power of either remained, was placed between the two states. From these three states, then, Christ in a certain manner assigned individual causes to his bodily nature: for the fact that he assumed a mortal body, in order to put death to flight from the human race, must be placed in that state which was penally inflicted after Adam's transgression.

But the fact that there was in him no will to sin was taken from that state which could have been, had he not applied his will to the snares of the deceiver. There remains, therefore, the third state, that is, the middle one: namely, that which existed at the time when death was not present, and the will to transgress could be present. In this state, then, Adam was such that he ate and drank, that he digested what he took, that he slipped into sleep, and the other things which were not lacking to him—human indeed, but permitted, and such as inflicted no penalty of death. That Christ had all these things is beyond doubt:

for he both ate and drank and performed the function of a human body. For so great a need is not to be believed to have been in Adam that, unless he ate, he could not live; but if he took food from every tree, he could always have lived, and by these not die: therefore he replenished his need with the fruits of Paradise. That this need was in Christ no one is ignorant of, but by power, not by necessity. And this very need was in him before the resurrection; but after the resurrection he came to be such that that human body was changed, just as Adam's, apart from the bond of transgression, could have been changed.

and this is what the Lord Jesus Christ himself taught us to desire in our prayers: that his will be done as in heaven so on earth, that his kingdom may come, and that he may free us from evil. For all these things that most blessed transformation of the human race—of those who faithfully believe—prays for. These are the things which I have written to you out of the trustful belief of my faith. In which matter, if anything has been wrongly said, I am not so great a lover of myself as to strive to prefer the things which I have once poured forth to a better opinion. For if there is nothing of good from ourselves, there is nothing which we ought to love in our own opinions. But if all good things are from him who alone is good, that rather must be believed to be good which that immutable Goodness and Cause of all good things prescribes.