文集（CSEL） 第 11 章 第 1/6 段

We undertake to set forth the life, the character, the deeds of holy Noah, and to explain, if we can, the loftiness of his mind as well. For since philosophy itself has said that nothing is more difficult than to comprehend the inner depths of a man, how much more difficult is it to come to know the mind of a righteous man? Indeed, since the Lord God reserved him to renew the seed of mankind, that he might be a seedbed of righteousness, it is fitting that we too should portray him for the imitation of all, and rest in him from all the anxiety of this world, which we daily endure amid diverse agitations. It is a thing of shame, a weariness, to outlive one's children. When we hear of so many adversities befalling those dearest to us, to feed upon this light is irksome:

Who is so strong that he could patiently bear to undergo or take to heart the diverse waves and tempests of the very churches, whether present or impending? And so this rest had to be sought by us as well, that while we contemplate holy Noah with greater attention, we too might be refreshed — even as the whole race rested in him from its labors and sorrow. Whence too he is called Noah, which in Latin is rendered 'righteous' or 'rest.' And so his parents said: 'This one shall make us rest from our works and from sorrow and from the earth which the Lord God has cursed.' Yet if you should think this must be referred to the things that came to pass — since the flood occurred under him — it would seem that not rest but destruction was brought upon men, and not a remission of evils but a heaping up of miseries.

But if you consider the mind of the righteous man, you will perceive that righteousness alone, being born for others rather than for itself, seeks not what is profitable to itself but what is profitable to all. This it is that makes us rest from the works of iniquity; this recalls us from sorrow, because while we do the things that are just, we fear nothing in the security of a pure conscience, we suffer no grievous grief — for there is nothing that is of greater grief than the guilt of fault. Let us rest also from every care of earthly conversation, which harasses our body and soul with frequent pains and wears away our life. To this man, then, were born three sons: Shem, Ham, and Japheth.

These names signify 'good,' 'evil,' and 'indifferent,' so that he may appear both to have possessed goodness by the grace of nature, and by no means to have lacked the temptations of evils, and to have abounded in things indifferent — that is, as it were in a furniture of virtues.

But for what reason he placed evil in the middle, the reason is evident: because the good of nature is innate in all, and does not cast them, as it were shipwrecked, into the light, but also props them up with strength, so that they may not be overwhelmed by the temptations of malice nor sink down as though feeble; and it fortifies and clothes them, as with certain indifferent coverings — which are health, sound vigor, beauty, energy, riches, glory, distinction of birth — so that, fortified by this endowment, they may guard the goodness of nature and shut in that evil, lest it be able to harm, and, as it were imprisoned, may strangle it. Do we not discern, as it were, a certain battle-line of the virtues drawn up for combat, so that the weaker stand in the center, and on the right and left, as on the wings, the stronger, through whom the whole line receives its strength?

Whence too a certain Greek poet says: 'κακοὺς δ' εἰς μέσσον ἔλασσεν' — that is, 'but he drove the bad into the middle.' So therefore nature also, like a good general acting at God's command — nature which knows that we are born for the battles of this world — sets the goods it has in the first rank, the things that hinder in the second, the things that help in the third, so that the enemy, shut up as it were in the middle, wherever he turns himself may be overwhelmed by doubled forces, lest, fighting them one by one as though on equal terms, he should wear them out and have the means of escaping from the natural straits and of spreading himself more widely.

But since, in the order in which they are begotten this is the arrangement, whereas in the order in which they beget Japheth is written in the first place and Ham in the third, therefore — lest anyone suppose we have spoken things contrary to what comes later — the reason of that passage too must be explained. The good indeed, being as it were in a certain nobility of nature, goes before, but evil follows. For there are contrary thoughts of the mind, which doubtless arise afterward. As long as these are, as it were, shut up within and do not sprout up like blades of grass, they are cherished in a certain bosom of the good mind, lest they come forth.

For as long as evil is in the will, not in entelechy — that is, in act and effect — the goodness of the governing mind, after the manner of a charioteer, restrains and reins in the malice that is trying to break forth; but when it has boiled over and burst into an ulcer, lest it be able to creep more widely and contaminate what is adjacent, then just providence steps in, lest that 'indifferent' thing, which is commonly called a secondary good, should as it were give way from its place, when it can no longer resist the now seething evil. And so, lest evil pour forth its noxious venom more widely and infect many things by breeding corruptions, that first good, which is by nature good, while it changes place, changes its order, so that it may bring aid as it were to a struggling flank and take up in the battle-line that part which labors more;

for the warrior's valor is needed in the more difficult places, just as the presence of a good guard is more frequent there where the walls are weaker. And lest any part be without a defender, while that good supports the more inclined positions, then that indifferent thing takes up the higher place, as though the more perfect good were assigning that part to it; for nothing is more perfect than virtue. But indifferent things do not have the strength of robust virtue; they only increase and diffuse its grace. Whence he is called Japheth, which in Latin signifies 'breadth.' Nor did holy Noah abound only in the begetting of sons, but the whole human race poured itself forth most abundantly especially at that time. Which does not seem to be without purpose.

For with the flood about to follow, the grace of fruitfulness ought not to be thought to have been wanting to that generation which the floods swallowed up — so that the abundance of the human race may be ascribed to divine grace, while the flood that followed may be charged to our iniquities, we who by our sins turn away the Lord's mercy. So too in later events you will find that the coming sterility of Egypt was preceded by just as many years of fruitfulness. For it is the chief part of virtue to begin with benefits and to sow grace beforehand. Whence David also says: 'Mercy and judgment I will sing to you, O Lord.' The grace of benefit goes before; the censure of sober discipline follows. It is therefore a divine thing that good things are sent in advance; it is ours that they are changed.

God himself declares this, saying: 'My spirit shall not remain in men, because they are flesh.' The Holy Spirit is the Spirit of wisdom, the Spirit of knowledge. He has therefore wisdom, he has also discipline — just as concerning Bezalel, who was commanded by the divine oracle to make the sacred tabernacle, Scripture says that 'he was filled with the spirit of prudence and discipline.' This Spirit, then, is given to men, but does not remain. And for what reason it does not remain, the cause is disclosed: because they are flesh; for the nature of the flesh resists discipline, since it submits to pleasure. Finally, of the Lord Jesus alone it is written: 'Upon whom you shall see the Spirit descending from heaven and remaining upon him, this is he who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.'

For the Spirit remained in him whom no hindrances of carnal corruption called back, so that he should hold the order of an uncorrupted and unmixed discipline — he whose flesh saw no corruption. Through the one Lord Jesus, therefore, salvation to come to the nations is declared — he who alone could not but be righteous, when every generation went astray, except that, being born of a Virgin, he was by no means held by the privilege of a guilty descent. 'Behold,' says he, 'I was conceived in iniquities, and in sins did my mother bring me forth' — so says one who was reckoned righteous beyond the rest. Whom then should I call already righteous, save him who is free of these bonds, whom the bonds of common nature do not hold? All are under sin from Adam; over all death reigned.

Let the one righteous man come into the sight of God, of whom it is now said, not with an exception, 'He did not sin with his lips,' but, 'He did no sin.' 'Now there were giants on the earth in those days.' The author of divine Scripture does not, after the manner of the poets, wish those giants to be seen as sons of earth, but asserts that they were begotten of angels and women, whom he calls by this name, wishing to express the great size of their bodies. And let us consider whether perhaps men are like the giants who study the cultivation of their own flesh, but take no care for the soul — like those who, according to the poetic fable, sprung from the earth and relying on the mass of their bodies, are said to have held the gods above in contempt.

Or are those to be judged unlike them who, though composed of soul and body, turn away from the vigor of the mind — than which the soul has nothing more precious — and show themselves to be imitators of this flesh, as it were heirs of a maternal dullness? And so they labor in vain, usurping heaven with proud vows and brooding over earthly works; who, by the choice of the lower and the contempt of the higher fellowship, are condemned with the heavier severity, as men liable to voluntary sins. Scripture very often calls angels 'sons of God,' because their souls are begotten of no man. And so God did not disdain to call faithful men his sons.

As therefore the men of approved life are called sons of God, so those whose works are carnal we call sons of the flesh, on the authority of the Scriptures. For John the Evangelist says that, 'as many as received the Lord Jesus, to them he gave power to become sons of God, to those who believe in his name, who were born not of bloods, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.'

Therefore you afterward have it that the Lord was angry, since — although he considered, that is, knew, that a man placed in the region of earth and bearing flesh could not be without sin (for the earth is, as it were, a certain place of temptations, and the flesh is an enticement to corruption) — nevertheless, since they had a mind capable of reason and a power of the soul infused into the body, they rushed without any consideration into a fall, from which they were unwilling to recall themselves. For God does not deliberate as men do.

as though some new resolution should come upon him, nor is he angered as though changeable; rather these things are read so that the bitterness of our sins may be expressed, which has deserved to give offense to the Godhead — as if guilt had grown to such a pitch that even God, who is by nature moved neither by anger nor hatred nor any passion, should seem provoked to wrath. He threatened besides that he would blot out man. 'From man,' he says, 'to cattle, and from the reptiles even to the birds, I will blot out.' What harm had the irrational creatures done? But because those creatures had been made for man's sake, surely once he was blotted out for whose sake they had been made, it followed that they too should be blotted out, since there was no one who would make use of them.

But in a deeper sense this is made manifest: that man is mind, which is capable of reason; for man is defined as a living, mortal, rational animal. Therefore, the principal part being extinguished, all sense likewise is extinguished, in that nothing of what remains survives unto salvation, when the foundation of salvation — virtue — has failed. But to the condemnation of the rest and the expression of the divine piety, it is said that Noah found grace before God. At the same time it is shown that another's offense does not overshadow a righteous man, when he himself is reserved as the seedbed of the whole race — he who is praised not for the nobility of his descent but for the merit of his righteousness and perfection.

For the lineage of a man of proved worth is a stock of virtues, since, just as the race of men is men, so the race of souls is the virtues. For indeed the families of men are ennobled by the splendor of their birth, but of souls grace is glorified by the splendor of virtue. 'Now the earth was corrupt before God and filled,' he says, 'with iniquity.' The cause of the earth's corruption is manifest, in that the iniquity of men had corrupted the earth. Whence the Lord God also says: 'The time of every man has come before me, because the earth is filled with their iniquities.' The time, indeed, of all men is in the sight of God and in his will.

For it is not, as the common saying goes, some fatal decree that is alleged here; yet I think this is said in a special sense, because in his Gospel the Lord, about to redeem the human race by the passion of his body and to cleanse it by his blood and by the sacrament of baptism, says: 'Father, the hour is come, glorify your Son, that the Son also may glorify you.' Therefore, because in the flood, through Noah's ark, the remnants of the human race were preserved as a seedbed of future restoration and renewal, he premised here: 'The time of every man has come, because the earth is filled with their iniquities.' This in figure; but in truth he says: 'The remnants are saved through the love of grace.' And therefore the Apostle cries out, saying: 'Sin abounded, that grace might more abound.'

'All flesh,' he says, 'had corrupted its way.' Here he put 'flesh' for the earthly man, in whom the enticement of the flesh had corrupted his way. If he had understood what a gift he had received from God, he would surely not have suffered the flesh to obstruct the virtues of the soul. And so the flesh was the cause of the soul's corruption as well — the flesh, which is, as it were, a certain region and seat of pleasure, from which, as from a fountain, the rivers of concupiscences and of evil passions burst forth and flood widely abroad. By these the rowing-tackle of the soul, as it were, is sunk, the helmsman having been thrown overboard, when the mind itself, overcome as though by certain storms and squalls, gives way from its place. And he beautifully says that man corrupted the way of his own nature.

For his way was in paradise, on that path of blessednesses, in that flower of virtues, in that incorruptible grace — a way which he defiled with earthly footsteps. Others have the reading: 'his way,' that is, God's way. This he is wont to declare by the word 'of the Lord.' But now I think we must speak of the ark of Noah itself, which, if anyone should wish to consider it more attentively, he will find that in its construction there is described the figure of the human body. For what is it that God says: 'Make for yourself an ark of squared timbers'? We surely call that 'squared' which stands well together in all its parts and is consistent with itself. And so both God is established as the author of our body and the fashioner of its nature, and the work itself is signified by these words to be perfect.

But that the members of man are squared, the reasoning is evident. If you consider the chest of a man, you consider the belly, of equal measure in length and breadth — except when, the belly distended with pleasures and feasting, the natural measure is exceeded. Again, who would not perceive by the very sight that the feet and hands, the arms and thighs and legs are fourfold? Yet most of them, even if not of the same length or breadth, nevertheless preserve a certain proportion, so that in these too a fitting measure and ratio concur: the length being more extended than the breadth, the breadth more than the height. And just as the timber of the ark has a triple dimension.

Inasmuch as he prescribed that a length of three hundred cubits and a breadth of fifty cubits and a height of thirty cubits should be observed, so also in our body there is a greatest, a middle, and a least dimension: the greatest according to length, the middle according to breadth, the least according to height; yet the whole body, woven together out of its several members, appears squared. For indeed it is even the usage that we call those men 'square-built' whom we judge neither enormous in tallness nor robust in a sturdy quality of body. What, too, that he means by saying, 'You shall make nests in the ark,' seems by no means to be passed over in silence.

For I think it was said in keeping with nature, in that our whole body is woven together like a nest, so that the vital spirit may penetrate all the parts of the inward organs and pour itself from our principal part through the several limbs. Our eyes are, as it were, certain nests, into which sight inserts itself. The hollows of our ears are nests, through which hearing pours itself in and casts itself down as into a deep pit. The nostril is a nest, which draws odor to itself. The fourth nest, greater than the rest, is the opening of the mouth, in which taste is nourished until it grows full, and from which the voice flies forth; in which the tongue lies hidden, which, like an instrument of the voice, modulates its sounds with skillful sweetness and, though itself irrational, produces a rational voice.

A nest is the skull; a nest is that membrane which fosters the brain and holds it shut within itself. Nests are the organs of the lungs and the heart. The nest of our spirit — that is, of the spirit which we draw in and by which we are nourished in this life — is the lung; but the nest of the blood and of the spirit is the heart. For it has two chambers: one by which it receives the blood as it were in a certain bosom and transfuses it into the veins; the other by which, watered from that upper chamber, it conducts it into the arteries in a continuous flow. The stronger bones too have nests; for they are hollowed out within, and in those cavities is the marrow. In the softer inward organs themselves are the nests of desire or of grief. And if anyone should consider other things, he will find still more nests in this fabric of the human body.

Whence I think that he in the Psalm said, not only mystically but also naturally: 'For the sparrow has found herself a house, and the turtledove a nest for herself, where she may lay her young.' For there is now in this body a nest of chastity, where there was a nest of irrational concupiscence. But where formerly lust nurtured misshapen offspring, there now the inheritance of comely chastity grows up. 'You shall smear it,' he says, 'with bitumen.' The human body consists of many bones and sinews and the rest besides.

And so, both outside and inside, joined together by a fitting framework, it cleaves to itself and is held by its own constitution — which the Greeks call 'habitude' — so that the spirit shut up within, which is infused, or the spiritual substance which works within, being as it were bound by twin fetters, may not wander abroad, but be confined to a fitting and harmonious unity and a strong interconnection. Therefore the ark is bidden to be bound fast with bitumen; for bitumen is of a nature powerful for binding. Whence in Greek it is called 'asphalt,' from 'safety' — that is, from security — because it joins together what is disjoined and binds it with an indissoluble knot, so that you would think the things came together by a natural unity. For this reason the ark is bound fast with bitumen within and without, lest that interconnection be easily broken.

But elsewhere — that is, in Exodus — that ark also is overlaid with gold within and without, the ark which is in the holy place, an imitative image of the intelligible world. For just as gold is more precious than bitumen, so that ark which is in the holy place is more excellent than this one. Here, then, he simply set down 'timbers,' but there indeed he specified timbers, yet incorruptible ones, declaring the merits of the saints. There too he added that the carrying-poles were to be immovable, because the station of the saints is stable and firm, since they followed the path of a praiseworthy life under the guidance of virtue, shunning the fellowships of corruption.

But this ark, inasmuch as it was driven hither and thither by an uncertain motion in the flood, because the condition of sinners is unstable, and their life, liable to corruption by a certain flood of overflowing passions, wanders about with an inconstant straying. Nor is this to be passed over: that when he had said, 'And you shall make an ark of three hundred cubits in length and fifty cubits in breadth and thirty cubits in height,' he added:

Gathering it together, you shall make the ark and shall finish it to a cubit at the top, so that to the rest of the body it might join, as a fitting adornment, the head of man squared with proportion suited to itself—like a royal citadel; and from this head, while all the senses were poured forth to the other parts of the body, the eyes above all, set as it were like watchmen and guardians appointed by nature with foresight, might survey from on high almost the whole condition of our city. And the mind itself, lodged there according to the opinion of very many, and chiefly of Solomon, who says:

'The eyes of the wise man are in his head'—as though in an imperial hall it gathers to itself a council of virtues, so that, surrounded by such a retinue, it may itself be more securely fortified, and as from some inner sanctuary may impart governance to the whole body, watching over it, and may know how to deliver responses, by which we are able not only to look back upon ourselves, nor only to see what lies before our feet, but even to gaze with the deep contemplation of wisdom upon the very secrets of heaven. There, then, is the whole sum of our salvation; there is grace; thence comes protection; thence too beauty is acquired for the whole body, which first blossoms in the countenance. For it is fitting that the splendor of the royal hall be more excellent, since in it, as the use is greater, so is the brilliance.

For if you consider one by one the things that in man's form appear arranged for some use—as the eyes for seeing, the ears for hearing, the nostrils for smelling, the mouth for speaking—they so serve their function that they furnish beauty as well. How disfigured are the faces of the blind! And what wonder if a man's countenance without eyes is unsightly, when the very heaven without the sun has not its own beauty? We pass our days dismally without the sun; nights without the moon do not please us; for these are, as it were, certain eyes of the world. Take away the light of the stars, and there is in heaven itself a certain disfigurement of blindness.

The very lashes, which fringe the orb of the eyes and are stretched out like a kind of vanguard, lest the pupil be harmed by any filth or cloud of dust, themselves also intercept anything that might be brought against it which could injure the eye; if they fail through inflammation, how unsightly that is; if the eyelid is drawn too tight; if the eyebrows are shaved away—those brows which gleam like the appearance of precious necklaces, as though inwoven with gems. Of the ears too the use is as necessary as the appearance is comely; and if anyone should mutilate them, he will bring disfigurement upon the whole face. In these nature so wrought her work that the very windings of the cavities, curved with wondrous foresight, brought much utility, lest sound suddenly strike the secret chambers of the head.

In short, we often see many people thrown into confusion by a sudden clamor, and, struck with alarm, terrified by the sound of some voice or uproar. The very wax that is generated within those same windings binds the hearing as with a kind of glue. Likewise, if any sound's impact be too violent, it is broken and slowed, so that, being announced beforehand, it rather soothes than, coming unawares, shakes the inner parts. Little worms too, if they attempt to penetrate the ear, are held fast by a kind of birdlime of wax. Flat noses seem contrary to nature; but if they were cut away, how could life subsist when the passage of breathing was removed? In what manner the face of a beast is reckoned rather than the countenance of a man!

With how welcome a covering do the hairs of the head clothe the head, like certain attendants of a royal court, lest the air harm the brain, or rain strike it, or the sun scorch it. Yet nature so renders them that, according to sex, they please either longer or cut short; and according to age, and for the most part according to the quality of the season and the year. In old men gray hair is welcome, in boys it is monstrous; in summer it delights to be cropped closer, in winter more indulgently; to women the hair is an ornament, to men a disgrace. In short, the Apostle expressed this more plainly, saying: 'Does not nature itself teach you that, if a man have long hair, it is a shame to him; but if a woman have long hair, it is a glory to her?'

What shall I say of that very royal gate itself—the mouth—through which the courtly words come forth, certain indices of our mind and intermediaries of the soul? What of the very row of the teeth, which by their own work indeed furnish strength to the whole body, and are besides the modulators of the voice itself? Of these, if any one fall out, the voice limps. These things we have said about the head at greater length, because it was fitting that all the senses be placed at the summit, whence all the offices might be distributed through the remaining parts. But next to our head, behind, is the neck; on the right and left are the arms, which guard the imperial citadel like a faithful watch; and lastly, in us those parts are the stronger which are nearer the head—these are the more excellent.

The breast too is, as it were, a certain sanctuary of wisdom; and the stomach is, as the physicians say, a kind of witness and confidant of the head's secrets, a partner of its sympathy, to which the head transfuses all its own affairs, whether wholesome or adverse. The sides, the buttocks, the thighs, and the legs signify by their very appearance the breadth of measure, as does the tread of the feet, which, although they seem rather slender, yet become broader when we walk. Beautifully, moreover, He added: 'You shall make a door on the side,' declaring that part of the body through which we are wont to discharge the superfluities of food, so that He might surround with more abundant honor those parts of the body which we deem more ignoble. This Scripture expressed far more gracefully than Socrates is read to have said in the book of Plato.

For since either Socrates himself, or Plato—who was in Egypt—could have read this in the writings of Moses, or have learned it from those who had read them, moved by the comely device, he thought that a door had been opened to him, so that he might proclaim the design of our Maker, praising Him in this, that it best suited propriety to turn away from sight, toward the rear, certain ducts and outlets of our channels, lest in the cleansings of the belly our gaze be offended. But the Apostle says: 'Those members of the body which seem to be the weaker are necessary,' with one simple word surpassing the descriptions of philosophy; and 'those members of the body which we think to be more ignoble,'

'we bestow on these more abundant honor; and our uncomely parts have more abundant comeliness.' For it is chiefly there that the proof of our sobriety and temperance is recognized; for gluttons are either distended by surfeits even to peril, or for the most part collapse when their bowels are emptied out. This too the Apostle beautifully applied to the members of the Church. For what are our uncomely and superfluous things, if not extravagance, if not wantonness?

And if anyone, ensnared by these in the time of youth, should, when he has advanced to a more mature age, come to baptism, renounce his former ways, put off his prior manners, lay aside his sins, be buried together with the Lord Jesus, and have the world crucified to him and himself to the world—is he not, being granted the remission of sins, possessed of a more abundant comeliness than that catechumen whose life was reckoned more innocent? And to use the example of the Apostle himself: he was a Jew, he was a persecutor; called to the grace of Christ, he began to be an apostle. And because more was forgiven him, he began to love more, to labor more abundantly than all the apostles, made a vessel of election, sent as the teacher of the Gentiles.