NINE HOMILIES OF HEXAEMERON, HOMILIES V TO IX
HOMILY V.
The Germination of the Earth.
1. "And God said Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed,
and the fruit tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself."(1)
It was deep wisdom that commanded the earth, when it rested after discharging
the weight of the waters, first to bring forth grass, then wood as we see it
doing still at this time. For the voice that was then heard and this command were
as a natural and permanent law for it; it gave fertility and the power to
produce fruit for all ages to come; "Let the earth bring forth." The production of
vegetables shows first germination. When the germs begin to sprout they form
grass; this develops and becomes a plant, which insensibly receives its different
articulations, and reaches its maturity in the seed. Thus all things which
sprout and are green are developed. "Let the earth bring forth green grass." Let
the earth bring forth by itself without having any need of help from without.
Some consider the sun as the source of all productiveness on the earth. It is,
they say, the action of the sun's heat which attracts the vital force from the
centre of the earth to the surface. The reason why the adornment of the earth
was before the sun is the following; that those who worship the sun, as the
source of life, may renounce their error. If they be well persuaded that the earth
was adorned before the genesis of the sun, they will retract their unbounded
admiration for it, because they see grass and plants vegetate before it rose.(2)
If then the food for the flocks was prepared, did our race appear less worthy of
a like solicitude? He, who provided pasture for horses and cattle, thought
before all of your riches and pleasures. If he fed your cattle, it was to provide
for all the needs of your life. And what object was there in the bringing forth
of grain, if not for your subsistence? Moreover, many grasses and vegetables
serve for the food of man.
2. "Let the earth bring forth grass yielding seed after his kind." So that
although some kind of grass is of service to animals, even their gain is our
gain too, and seeds are especially designed for our use. Such is the true
meaning of the words that I have i quoted. "Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb
yielding seed after his kind." this manner we can re-establish the order of
the words, of which the construction seems faulty in the actual version, and the
economy of nature will be rigorously observed. In fact, first comes
germination, then verdure, then the growth of the plant, which alter having attained its
full growth arrives at perfection in seed.
How then, they say, can Scripture describe all the plants of the earth as
seed-bearing, when the reed, couch-grass,(1) mint, crocus, garlic, and the
flowering rush and countless other species, produce no seed? To this we reply that
many vegetables have their seminal virtue in the lower part and in the roots.
The need, for example, after its annual growth sends forth a protuberance from
its roots, which takes the place of seed for future trees. Numbers of other
vegetables are the same and all over the earth reproduce by the roots. Nothing then
is truer than that each plant produces its seed or contains some seminal
virtue; this is what is meant by "after its kind." So that the shoot of a reed does
not produce an olive tree, but from a reed grows another reed, and from one
sort of seed a plant of the same sort always germinates. Thus, all which sprang
from the earth, in its first bringing forth, is kept the same to our time, thanks
to the constant reproduction of kind.(2)
"Let the earth bring forth." See how, at this short word, at this brief
command, the cold and sterile earth travailed and hastened to bring forth its
fruit, as it east away its sad and dismal covering to clothe itself in a more
brilliant robe, proud of its proper adornment and displaying the infinite variety
of plants.
I want creation to penetrate you with so much admiration that everywhere,
wherever you may be, the least plant may bring to yon the clear remembrance of
the Creator. If you see the grass of the fields, think of human nature, and
remember the comparison of the wise Isaiah. "All flesh is grass, and all the
goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field." Truly the rapid flow of life, the
short gratification and pleasure that an instant of happiness gives a man, all
wonderfully suit the comparison of the prophet. To-day he is vigorous in body,
fattened by luxury, and in the prime of life, with complexion fair like the
flowers, strong and powerful and of irresistible energy; tomorrow and he will be
an object of pity, withered by age or exhausted by sickness. Another shines in
all the splendour of a brilliant fortune. and around him are a multitude of
flatterers, an escort of false friends on the track of his good graces; a crowd of
kinsfolk, but of no true kin; a swarm Of servants who crowd after him to
provide for his food and for all his needs; and in his comings and goings this
innumerable suite, which he drags after him, excites the envy of all whom he meets.
To fortune may be added power in the State, honours bestowed by the imperial
throne, the government of a province, or the command of armies; a herald who
precedes him is crying in a loud voice; lictors right and left also fill his
subjects with awe, blows, confiscations, banishments, imprisonments, and all the
means by which he strikes intolerable terror into all whom he has to rule. And what
then? One night, a fever, a pleurisy, or an inflammation of the lungs,
snatches away this man from the midst of men, stripped in a moment of all his stage
accessories, and all this, his glory, is proved a mere dream. Therefore the
Prophet has compared human glory to the weakest flower.
3. Up to this point, the order in which plants shoot bears witness to
their first arrangement. Every herb, every plant proceeds from a germ. If, like the
couch-grass and the crocus, it throws out a shoot from its root and from this
lower protuberance, it must always germinate and start outwards. If it proceeds
from a seed, there is still, by necessity, first a germ, then the sprout,
theft green foliage, and finally the fruit which ripens upon a stalk hitherto dry
and thick. "Let the earth bring forth grass." When the seed falls into the
earth, which contains the right combination of heat and moisture, it swells and
becomes porous, and, grasping the surrounding earth, attracts to itself all that is
suitable for it and that has affinity to it. These particles of earth,
however small they may be, as they fall and insinuate themselves into all the pores
of the seed, broaden its bulk and make it send forth roots below, and shoot
upwards, sending forth stalks no less numerous than the roots. As the germ is
always growing warm, the moisture, pumped up through the roots, and helped by the
attraction of heat, draws a proper amount of nourishment from the soil, and
distributes it to the stem, to the bark, to the husk, to the steel itself and to the
beards with which it is armed. It is owing to these successive accretions that
each plant attains its natural development, as well corn as vegetables, herbs
or brushwood. A single plant, a blade of grass is sufficient to occupy all your
intelligence in the contemplation of the skill which produced it.(1) Why is
the wheat stalk better with joints?(2) Are they not like fastenings, which help
it to bear easily the weight of the ear, when it is swollen with fruit and bends
towards the earth? Thus, whilst oats, which have no weight to bear at the top,
are without these supports, nature has provided them for wheat. It has hidden
the grain in a case, so that it may not be exposed to birds' pillage, and has
furnished it with a rampart of barbs, which, like darts, protect it against the
attacks of tiny creatures.
4. What shall I say? What shall I leave unsaid? In the rich treasures of
creation it is difficult to select what is most precious; the loss of what is
omitted is too severe. "Let the earth bring forth grass;" and instantly, with
useful plants, appear noxious plants; with corn, hemlock; with the other
nutritious plants, hellebore, monkshood, mandrake and the juice of the poppy. What then?
Shall we show no gratitude for so many beneficial gifts, and reproach the
Creator for those which may be harmful to our life? And shall we not reflect that
all has not been created in view of the wants of our bellies? The nourishing
plants, which are destined for our use, are close at hand, and known by all the
world. But in creation nothing exists without a reason. The blood of the bull is
a poison:(3) ought this animal then, whose strength is so serviceable to man,
not to have been created, or, if created, to have been bloodless? But you have
sense enough in yourself to keep you free froth deadly things. What! Sheep and
goats know how to turn away from what threatens their life, discerning danger by
instinct alone: and you, who have reason and the art of medicine to supply
what you need, and the experience of your forebears to tell you to avoid all that
is dangerous, you tell me that you find it difficult to keep yourself from
poisons! But not a single thing has been created without reason, not a single thing
is useless. One serves as food to some animal; medicine has found in another a
relief for one of our maladies. Thus the starling eats hemlock, its
constitution rendering it insusceptible to the action of the poison. Thanks to the
tenuity of the pores of its heart, the malignant juice is on sooner swallowed than
it is digested, before its chill can attack the vital parts.(1) The quail,
thanks to its peculiar temperament, whereby it escapes the dangerous effects, feeds
on hellebore. There are even circumstances where poisons are useful to men;
with mandrake(2) doctors give us sleep; with opium they lull violent pain. Hemlock
has ere now been used to appease the rage of unruly diseases; (3) and many
times hellebore has taken away long standing disease.(4) These plants, then,
instead of making you accuse the Creator, give you a new subject for gratitude.
5. "Let the earth bring forth grass." What spontaneous provision is
included in these words,--that which is present in the root, in the plant itself, and
in the fruit, as well as that which our labour and husbandry add! God did not
command the earth immediately to give forth seed and fruit, but to produce
germs, to grow green, and to arrive at maturity in the seed; so that this first
command teaches nature what she has to do in the course of ages. But, they ask, is
it true that the earth produces seed after his kind, when often, after having
sown wheat, we gather black grain? This is not a change of kind, but an
alteration, a disease of the grain. It has not ceased to be wheat; it is on account of
having been burnt that it is black, as one can learn from its name.(5) If a
severe frost had burnt it,(6) it would have had another colour and a different
flavour. They even pretend that, if it could find suitable earth and moderate
temperature, it might return to its first form. Thus, you find nothing in nature
contrary to the divine command. As to the darnel and all those bastard grains
which mix themselves with the harvest, the tares of Scripture, far from being a
variety of corn, have their own origin and their own kind; image of those who
alter the doctrine of the Lord and, not being rightly instructed in the word,
but, corrupted by the teaching of the evil one, mix themselves with the sound body
of the Church to spread their pernicious errors secretly among purer souls.
The Lord thus compares the perfection of those who believe in Him to the growth
of seed, "as if a man should cast seed into the ground; and should sleep and
rise, night and day, and the seed should spring and grow up, he knoweth not how.
For the earth bringeth forth fruit of herself; first the blade, then the ear,
after that the full corn in the ear."(1) "Let the earth bring forth grass." In a
moment earth began by germination to obey the laws of the Creator, completed
every stage of growth, and brought germs to perfection. The meadows were covered
with deep grass, the fertile plains quivered(2) with harvests, and the movement
of the corn was like the waving of the sea. Every plant, every herb, the
smallest shrub, the least vegetable, arose from the earth in all its luxuriance.
There was no failure in this first vegetation: no husbandman's inexperience, no
inclemency of the weather, nothing could injure it; then the sentence of
condemnation was not fettering the earth's fertility. All this was before the sin which
condemned us to eat our bread by the sweat of our brow.
6. "Let the earth," the Creator adds, "bring forth the fruit tree yielding
fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself."(3)
At this command every copse was thickly planted; all the trees, fir,
cedar, cypress, pine, rose to their greatest height, the shrubs were straightway
clothed with thick foliage.(4) The plants called crown-plants, roses, myrtles,
laurels, did not exist; in one moment they came into being, each one with its
distinctive peculiarities. Most marked differences separated them from other
plants, and each one was distinguished by a character of its own. But then the rose
was without thorns; since then the thorn has been added to its beauty, to make
us feel that sorrow is very near to pleasure, and to remind us of our sin, which
condemned the earth to produce thorns(5) and caltrops. But, they say, the
earth has received the command to produce trees "yielding fruit whose seed was in
itself," and we see many trees which have neither fruit, nor seed. What shall we
reply? First, that only the more important trees are mentioned; and then, that
a careful examination will show us that every tree has seed, or some property
which takes the place of it. The black poplar, the willow, the elm, the white
poplar, all the trees of this family, do not produce any apparent fruit;
however, an attentive observer finds seed in each of them. This grain which is at the
base of the leaf, and which those who busy themselves with inventing words call
mischos, has the property of seed. And there are trees which reproduce by
their branches, throwing out roots from them. Perhaps we ought even to consider as
seeds the saplings which spring from the roots of a tree: for cultivators tear
them out to multiply the species. But, we have already said, it is chiefly a
question of the trees which contribute most to out life; which offer their
various fruits to man and provide him with plentiful nourishment. Such is the vine,
which produces wine to make glad the heart of man; such is the olive tree, whose
fruit brightens his face with oil. How many things in nature are combined in
the same plant! In a vine, roots, green and flexible branches, which spread
themselves far over the earth, buds, tendrils, bunches of sour grapes and ripe
grapes. The sight of a vine, when observed by an intelligent eye, serves to remind
you of your nature. Without doubt you remember the parable where the Lord calls
Himself a vine and His Father the husbandman, and every one of us who are
grafted by faith into the Church the branches. He invites us to produce fruits in
abundance, for fear lest our sterility should condemn us to the fire.(1) He
constantly compares our souls to vines. "My well beloved," says He, "hath a
vineyard in a very fruitfull hill,"(2) and elsewhere, I have "planted a vineyard and
hedged it round about."(3) Evidently He calls human souls His vine, those souls
whom He has surrounded with the authority of His precepts and a guard of
angels. "The angel of the Lord encampeth round shout them that fear him."(4) And
further: He has planted for us, so to say, props, in establishing in His Church
apostles, prophets, teachers;(5) and raising our thoughts by the example of the
blessed in olden times, He has not allowed them to drag on the earth and be
crushed under foot. He wishes that the claspings of love, like the tendrils of the
vine, should attach us to our neighbours and make us rest on them, so that, in
our continual aspirations towards heaven, we may imitate these vines, which
raise themselves to the tops of the tallest trees. He also asks us to allow
ourselves to be dug about; and that is what the soul does when it disembarrasses
itself from the cares of the world, which are a weight on our hearts. He, then, who
is freed from carnal affections and from the love of riches, and, far from
being dazzled by them, disdains and despises this miserable vain glory, is, so to
say, dug about and at length breathes, free from the useless weight of earthly
thoughts. Nor must we, in the spirit of the parable, put forth too much wood,
that is to say, live with ostentation, and gain the applause of the world; we
must bring forth fruits, keeping the proof of our works for the husbandman. Be
"like a green olive tree in the house of God,"(1) never destitute of hope, but
decked through faith with the bloom of salvation. Thus you will resemble the
eternal verdure of this plant and will rival it in fruitfulness, if each clay sees
you giving abundantly in alms.
7. But let us return to the examination of the ingenious contrivances of
creation. How many trees then arose, some to give us their fruits, others to
roof our houses, others to build our ships, others to feed our fires! What a
variety in the disposition of their several parts! And yet, how difficult is it to
find the distinctive property of each of them, and to grasp the difference which
separates them from other species. Some strike deep roots, others do not; some
shoot straight up and have only one stem, others appear to love the earth and,
from their root upwards, divide into several shoots. Those whose long branches
stretch up afar into the air, have also deep roots which spread within a large
circumference, a true foundation placed by nature to support the weight of the
tree. What variety there is in bark! Some plants have smooth bark, others
rough, some have only one layer, others several. What a marvellous thing! You may
find in the youth and age of plants resemblances to those of man. Young and
vigorous, their bark is distended; when they grow old, it is rough and wrinkled.
Cut one, it sends forth new buds; the other remains henceforward sterile and as
if struck with a mortal wound. But further, it has been observed that pines, cut
down, or even submitted to the action of fire, are changed into a forest of
oaks.(3) We know besides that the industry of agriculturists remedies the natural
defects of certain trees. Thus the sharp pomegranate and bitter almonds, if
the trunk of the tree is pierced near the root to introduce into the middle of
the pith a fat plug of pine, lose the acidity of their juice, and become
delicious fruits.(1) Let not the sinner then despair of himself, when he thinks, if
agriculture can change the juices of plants, the efforts of the soul to arrive at
virtue, can certainly triumph over all infirmities.
Now there is such a variety of fruits in fruit trees that it is beyond all
expression; a variety not only in the fruits of trees of different families,
but even in those of the same species, if it be true, as gardeners say, that the
sex of a tree influences the character of its fruits. They distinguish male
from female in palms; sometimes we see those which they call female lower their
branches, as though with passionate desire. and invite the embraces of the male.
Then, those who take care of these plants shake over these palms the
fertilizing dust from the male palm-tree, the psen as they call it: the tree appears to
share the pleasures of enjoyment; then it raises its branches, and its foliage
resumes its usual form. The same is said of the fig tree. Some plant wild fig
trees near cultivated fig trees, and there are others who, to remedy the
weakness of the productive fig tree of our gardens, attach to the branches unripe figs
and so retain the fruit which had already begun to drop and to be lost. What
lesson does nature here give us? That we must often borrow, even from those who
are strangers to the faith, a certain vigour to show forth good works. If you
see outside the Church, in pagan life, or in the midst of a pernicious heresy,
the example of virtue and fidelity to moral laws, redouble your efforts to
resemble the productive fig tree, who by the side of the wild fig tree, gains
strength, prevents the fruit from being shed, and nourishes it with more care.
8. Plants reproduce themselves in so many different ways, that we can only
touch upon the chief among them. As to fruits themselves, who could review
their varieties, their forms, their colours, the peculiar flavour, and the use of
each of them? Why do some fruits ripen when exposed bare to the rays of the
sun, while others fill out while encased in shells? Trees of which the fruit is
tender have, like the fig tree, a thick shade of leaves; those, on the contrary,
of which the fruits are stouter, like the nut, are only covered by a light
shade. The delicacy of the first requires more care; if the latter had a thicker
case, the shade of the leaves would be harmful. Why is the vine leaf serrated, if
not that the bunches of grapes may at the same time resist the injuries of the
air and receive through the openings all the rays of the sun? Nothing has been
done without motive, nothing by chance. All shows ineffable wisdom.(1)
What discourse can touch all? Can the human mind make an exact review,
remark every distinctive property, exhibit all the differences, unveil with
certainty so many mysterious causes? The same water, pumped up through the root,
nourishes in a different way the root itself, the bark of the trunk, the wood and
the pith. It becomes leaf, it distributes itself among the branches and twigs
and makes the fruits swell -- it gives to the plant its gum and its sap. Who will
explain to us the difference between all these? There is a difference between
the gum of the mastich and the juice of the balsam, a difference between that
which distils in Egypt arid Libya from the fennel. Amber is, they say, the
crystallized sap of plants. And for a proof, see the bits of straws and little
insects which have been caught in the sap while still liquid and imprisoned there.
In one word, no one without long experience could find terms to express the
virtue of it. How, again, does this water become wine in the vine, and oil in the
olive tree? Yet what is marvellous is, not to see it become sweet in one fruit,
fat and unctuous in another, but to see in sweet fruits an inexpressible
variety of flavour. There is one sweetness of the grape, another of the apple,
another of the fig, another of the date. I shall willingly give you the gratification
of continuing this research. How is it that this same water has sometimes a
sweet taste, softened by its remaining in certain plants, and at other times
stings the palate because it has become acid by passing through others? How is it,
again, that it attains extreme bitterness, and makes the mouth rough when it is
found in wormwood and in scammony? That it has in acorns and dogwood a sharp
and rough flavour? That in the turpentine tree and the walnut tree it is changed
into a soft and oily matter?
9. But what need is there to continue. when in the same fig tree we have
the most opposite flavours, as bitter in the sap as it is sweet in the fruit?
And in the vine, is it not as sweet in the grapes as it is astringent in the
branches? And what a variety of colour! Look how in a meadow this same water
becomes red in one flower, purple in another, blue in this one, white in that. And
this diversity of colours, is it to be compared to that of scents? But I perceive
that an insatiable curiosity is drawing out my discourse beyond its limits. If
I do not stop and recall it to the law of creation, day will fail me whilst
making you see great wisdom in small things.
"Let the earth bring forth the fruit tree yielding fruit." Immediately the
tops of the mountains were covered with foliage: paradises were artfully laid
out, and an infinitude of plants embellished the banks of the rivers. Some were
for the adornment of man's table; some to nourish animals with their fruits
and their leaves; some to provide medicinal help by giving us their sap, their
juice, their chips, their bark or their fruit. In a word, the experience of ages,
profiting from every chance, has not been able to discover anything useful,
which the penetrating foresight of the Creator did not first perceive and call
into existence. Therefore, when you see the trees in our gardens, or those of the
forest, those which love the water or the land, those which bear flowers, or
those which do not flower, I should like to see you recognising grandeur even in
small objects, adding incessantly to your admiration of, and redoubling your
love for the Creator. Ask yourself why He has made some trees evergreen and
others deciduous; why, among the first, some lose their leaves, and others always
keep them. Thus the olive and the pine shed their leaves, although they renew
them insensibly and never appear to be despoiled of their verdure. The palm tree,
on the contrary, from its birth to its death, is always adorned with the same
foliage. Think again of the double life of the tamarisk; it is an aquatic
plant, and yet it covers the desert. Thus, Jeremiah compares it to the worst of
characters -- the double character.(1)
10. "Let the earth bring forth." This short command was in a moment a vast
nature, an elaborate system. Swifter than thought it produced the countless
qualities of plants. It is this command which, still at this day, is imposed on
the earth, and in the course of each year displays all the strength of its power
to produce herbs, seeds and trees. Like tops, which after the first impulse,
continue their evolutions, turning upon themselves when once fixed in their
centre; thus nature, receiving the impulse of this first command, follows without
interruption the course of ages, until the consummation of all things.(1) Let us
all hasten to attain to it, full of fruit and of good works; and thus, planted
in the house of the Lord we shall flourish in the court of our God,(2) in our
Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power for ever and ever. Amen.
HOMILY VI.
The creation of luminous bodies.
1. AT the shows in the circus the spectator must join in the efforts of
the athletes. This the laws of the show indicate, for they prescribe that all
should have the head uncovered when present at the stadium. The object of this, in
my opinion, is that each one there should not only be a spectator of the
athletes, but be, in a certain measure, a true athlete himself.(2) Thus, to
investigate the great and prodigious show of creation, to understand supreme and
ineffable wisdom, you must bring personal light for the contemplation of the wonders
which I spread before your eyes, and help me, according to your power, in this
struggle, where you are not so much judges as fellow combatants,(4) for fear
lest the truth might escape you, and lest my error might turn to your common
prejudice. Why these words? It is because we propose to study the world as a whole.
and to consider the universe. not by the light of worldly wisdom, but by that
with which God wills to enlighten His servant, when He speaks to him in person
and without enigmas. It is because it is absolutely necessary that all lovers
of great and grand shows should bring a mind well prepared to study them. If
sometimes, on a bright night,(1) whilst gazing with watchful eyes on the
inexpressible beauty of the stars, you have thought of the Creator of all things; if you
have asked yourself who it is that has dotted heaven with such flowers, and
why visible things are even more useful than beautiful; if sometimes, in the day,
you have studied the marvels of light, if you have raised yourself by visible
things to the invisible Being, then you are a well prepared auditor, and you
can take your place in this august and blessed amphitheatre. Come in the same way
that any one not knowing a town is taken by the hand and led through it; thus
I am going to lead you, like strangers, through the mysterious marvels of this
great city of the universe.(2) Our first country was in this great city, whence
the murderous daemon whose enticements seduced man to slavery expelled us.
There you will see man's first origin and his immediate seizure by death, brought
forth by sin, the first born of the evil spirit. You will know that you are
formed of earth, but the work of God's hands; much weaker than the brute, but
ordained to command beings without reason and soul; inferior as regards natural
advantages, but, thanks to the privilege of reason, capable of raising yourself
to heaven. If we are penetrated by these truths, we shall know ourselves, we
shall know God, we shall adore our Creator, we shall serve our Master, we shall
glorify our Father, we shall love our Sustainer, we shall bless our Benefactor,
we shall not cease to honour the Prince(3) of present and future life, Who, by
the riches that He showers upon us in this world, makes us believe in His
promises and uses present good things to strengthen our expectation of the future.
Truly, if such are the good things of time, what will be those of eternity? If
such is the beauty of visible things, what shall we think of invisible things? If
the grandeur of heaven exceeds the measure of human intelligence, what mind
shall be able to trace the nature of the everlasting? If the sun, subject to
corruption, is so beautiful, so grand. so rapid in its move-meat, so invariable in
its course; if its grandeur is in such perfect harmony with and due proportion
to the universe: if, by the beauty of its nature, it shines like a brilliant
eye in the middle of creation; if finally, one cannot tire of contemplating it,
what will be the beauty of the Sun of Righteousness?(1) If the blind man suffers
from not seeing the material sun, what a deprivation is it for the sinner not
to enjoy the true light l
2. "And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to
give light upon the earth, and to divide the day from the night."(2) Heaven and
earth were the first; after them was created light; the day had been
distinguished from the night, then had appeared the firmament and the dry element. The
water had been gathered into the reservoir assigned to it, the earth displayed its
productions, it had caused many kinds of herbs to germinate and it was adorned
with all kinds of plants. However, the sun and the moon did not yet exist, in
order that those who live in ignorance of God may not consider the sun as the
origin and the father of light, or as the maker of all that grows out of the
earth.(3) That is why there was a fourth day, and then God said: "Let there be
lights in the firmament of the heaven."
When once you have learnt Who spoke, think immediately of the hearer. God
said, "Let there be lights . . . and God made two great lights." Who spoke? and
Who made? Do you not see a double person? Everywhere, in mystic language,
history is sown with the dogmas of theology.
The motive follows which caused the lights to be created. It was to
illuminate the earth. Already light was created; why therefore say that the sun was
created to give light? And, first, do not laugh at the strangeness of this
expression. We do not follow your nicety about words, and we trouble ourselves but
little to give them a harmonious turn. Our writers do not amuse themselves by
polishing their periods, and everywhere we prefer clearness of words to sonorous
expressions. See then if by this expression "to light up," the sacred writer
sufficiently made his thought understood. He has put "to give light"(1) instead
of" illumination."(2) Now there is nothing here contradictory to what has been
said of light. Then the actual nature of light was produced: now the sun's body
is constructed to be a vehicle for that original light. A lamp is not fire.
Fire has the property of illuminating, and we have invented the lamp to light us
in darkness. In the same way, the luminous bodies have been fashioned as a
vehicle for that pure, clear, and immaterial light. The Apostle speaks to us of
certain lights which shine in the world(3) without being confounded with the true
light of the world, the possession of which made the saints luminaries of the
souls which they instructed and drew from the darkness of ignorance. This is why
the Creator of all things, made the sun in addition to that glorious light, and
placed it shining in the heavens.
3. And let no one suppose it to be a thing incredible that the brightness
of the light is one thing, and the body which is its material vehicle is
another. First, in all composite things, we distinguish substance susceptible of
quality, and the quality which it receives. The nature of whiteness is one thing,
another is that of the body which is whitened; thus the natures differ which we
have just seen reunited by the power of the Creator. And do not tell me that it
is impossible to separate them. Even I do not pretend to be able to separate
light from the body of the sun; but I maintain that that which we separate in
thought, may be separated in reality by the Creator of nature. You cannot,
moreover, separate the brightness of fire from the virtue of burning which it
possesses; but God, who wished to attract His servant by a wonderful sight, set a fire
in the burning bush, which displayed all the brilliancy of flame while its
devouring property was dormant. It is that which the Psalmist affirms in saying
"The voice of the Lord divideth the flames of fire."(4) Thus, in the requital
which awaits us after this life, a mysterious voice seems to tell us that the
double nature of fire will be divided; the just will enjoy its light, and the
torment of its heat will be the torture of the wicked. In the revolutions of the
moon we find a new proof of what we have advanced. When it stops and grows less it
does not consume itself in all its body, but in the measure that it deposits
or absorbs the light which surrounds it, it presents to us the image of its
decrease or of its increase. If we wish an evident proof that the moon does not
consume its body whet, at rest, we have only to open our eyes. If you look at it
in a cloudless and clear sky, you observe, when it has taken the complete form
of a crescent, that the part, which is dark and not lighted up, describes a
circle equal to that which the full moon forms. Thus the eye can take in the
whole circle, if it adds to the illuminated part this obscure and dark curve. And
do not tell me that the light of the moon is borrowed, diminishing or increasing
in proportion as it approaches or recedes from the sun. That is not now the
object of our research; we only wish to prove that its body differs from the
light which makes it shine. I wish you to have the same idea of the sun; except
however that the one, after having once received light and having mixed it with
its substance, does not lay it down again, whilst the other, turn by turn,
putting off and reclothing itself again with light, proves by that which takes place
in itself what we have said of the sun.
The sun and moon thus received the command to divide the day from the
night. God had already separated light from darkness; then He placed their natures
in opposition, so that they could not mingle, and that there could never be
anything in common between darkness and light. You see what a shadow is during the
day; that is precisely the nature of darkness during the night. If, at the
appearance of a light, the shadow always falls on the opposite side; if in the
morning it extends towards the setting sun; if in the evening it inclines towards
the rising sun, and at mid-day turns towards the north; night retires into the
regions opposed to the rays of the sun, since it is by nature only the shadow
of the earth. Because, in the same way that, daring the day, shadow is produced
by a body which intercepts the light, night comes naturally when the air which
surrounds the earth is in shadow. And this is precisely what Scripture says,
"God divided the light from the darkness." Thus darkness fled at the approach of
light, the two being at their first creation divided by a natural antipathy.
Now God commanded the sun to measure the day, and the moon, whenever she rounds
her disc, to rule the night. For then these two luminaries are almost
diametrically opposed; when the sun rises, the full moon disappears from the horizon, to
re-appear in the east at the moment the sun sets. It matters little to our
subject if in other phases the light of the moon does not correspond exactly with
night. It is none the less true, that when at its perfection it makes the stars
to turn pale and lightens up the earth with the splendour of its light, it
reigns over the night, and in concert with the sun divides the duration of it in
equal parts.
4. "And let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days and
years."(1) The signs which the luminaries give are necessary to human life. In fact what
useful observations will long experience make us discover, if we ask without
undue curiosity! What signs of rain, of drought, or of the rising of the wind,
partial or general, violent or moderate Our Lord indicates to us one of the
signs given by the sun when He says, "It will be foul weather to-day; for the sky
is red and lowering."(2) In fact, when the sun rises through a fog, its rays are
darkened, but the disc appears burning like a coal and of a bloody red colour.
It is the thickness of the air which causes this appearance; as the rays of
the sun do not disperse such amassed and condensed air, it cannot certainly be
retained by the waves of vapour which exhale from the earth, and it will cause
from superabundance of moisture a storm in the countries over which it
accumulates. In the same way, when the moon is surrounded with moisture, or when the sun
is encircled with what is called a halo, it is the sign of heavy rain or of a
violent storm; again, in the same way, if mock suns accompany the sun in its
course they foretell certain celestial phenomena. Finally, those straight lines,
like the colours of the rainbow, which are seen on the clouds, announce rain,
extraordinary tempests, or, in one word, a complete change in the weather.
Those who devote themselves to the observation of these bodies find signs
in the different phases of the moon, as if the air, by which the earth is
enveloped, were obliged to vary to correspond with its change of form. Towards the
third day of the new moon, if it is sharp and clear, it is a sign of fixed fine
weather. If its horns appear thick and reddish it threatens us either with
heavy rain or with a gale from the South.(3) Who does not know how useful(4) are
these signs in life? Thanks to them, the sailor keeps back his vessel in the
harbour, foreseeing the perils with which the winds threaten him, and the
traveller beforehand takes shelter from harm, waiting until the weather has become
fairer. Thanks to them, husbandmen, busy with sowing seed or cultivating plants,
are able to know which seasons are favourable to their labours. Further, the
Lord has announced to us that at the dissolution of the universe, signs will
appear in the sun, in the moon and in the stars. The sun shall be turned into blood
and the moon shall not give her light,(1) signs of the consummation of all
things.
5. But those who overstep the borders,(2) making the words of Scripture
their apology for the art of casting nativities, pretend that our lives depend
upon the motion of the heavenly bodies, and that thus the Chaldaeans read in the
planets that which will happen to us.(3) By these very simple words "let them
be for signs," they understand neither the variations of the weather, nor the
change of seasons; they only see in them, at the will of their imagination, the
distribution of human destinies. What do they say in reality? When the planets
cross in the signs of the Zodiac, certain figures formed by their meeting give
birth to certain destinies, and others produce different destinies.
Perhaps for clearness sake it is not useless to enter into more detail
about this vain science. I will say nothing of my own to refute them; I will use
their words, bringing a remedy for the infected, and for others a preservative
from falling. The inventors of astrology seeing that in the extent of time many
signs escaped them, divided it and enclosed each part in narrow limits, as if
in the least and shortest interval, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye,(4)
to speak with the Apostle, the greatest difference should be found between one
birth and another. Such an one is born in this moment; he will be a prince over
cities and will govern the people, in the fulness of riches and power. Another
is born the instant after; he will be poor, miserable, and will wander daily
from door to door begging his bread. Consequently they divide the Zodiac into
twelve parts, and, as the sun takes thirty days to traverse each of the twelve
divisions of this unerring circle, they divide them into thirty more. Each of
them forms sixty new ones, and these last are again divided into sixty. Let us see
then if, in determining the birth of an infant, it will be possible to observe
this rigorous division of time. The child is born. The nurse ascertains the
sex; then she awaits the wail which is a sign of its life. Until then how many
moments have passed do you think? The nurse announces the birth of the child to
the Chaldaean: how many minutes would you count before she opens her mouth,
especially if he who records the hour is outside the women's apartments? And we
know that he who consults the dial, ought, whether by day or by night, to mark the
hour with the most precise exactitude. What a swarm of seconds passes during
this time! For the planet of nativity ought to be found, not only in one of the
twelve divisions of the Zodiac, and even in one of its first subdivisions, but
again in one of the sixtieth parts which divide this last, and even, to arrive
at the exact truth, in one of the sixtieth subdivisions that this contains in
its turn. And to obtain such minute knowledge, so impossible to grasp from this
moment, each planet must be questioned to find its position as regards the
signs of the Zodiac and the figures that the planets form at the moment of the
child's birth. Thus, if it is impossible to find exactly the hour of birth, and if
the least change can upset all, then both those who give themselves up to this
imaginary science and those who listen to them open-mouthed, as if they could
learn from them the future, are supremely ridiculous.
6. But what effects are produced? Such an one will have curly hair and
bright eyes, because he is born under the Ram; such is the appearance of a ram. He
will have noble feelings; because the Ram is born to command. He will be
liberal and fertile in resources, because this animal gets rid of its fleece without
trouble, and nature immediately hastens to reclothe it. Another is born under
the Bull: he will be enured to hardship and of a slavish character, because the
bull bows under the yoke. Another is born under the Scorpion; like to this
venomous reptile he will be a striker. He who is born under the Balance will be
just, thanks to the justness of our balances. Is not this the height of folly?
This Ram, from whence you draw the nativity of man, is the twelfth part of the
heaven, and in entering into it the sun reaches the spring. The Balance and the
Bull are likewise twelfth parts of the Zodiac. How can you see there the
principal causes which influence the life of man? And why do you take animals to
characterize the manners of men who enter this world? He who is born under the Ram
will be liberal, not because this part of heaven gives this characteristic, but
because such is the nature of the beast. Why then should we frighten ourselves
by the names of these stars and undertake to persuade ourselves with these
bleatings? If heaven has different characteristics derived from these animals, it
is then itself subject to external influences since its causes depend on the
brutes who graze in our fields. A ridiculous assertion; but how much more
ridiculous the pretence of arriving at the influence on each other of things which
have not the least connexion! This pretended science is a true spider's web; if a
gnat or a fly, or some insect equally feeble falls into it it is held
entangled; if a stronger animal approaches, it passes through without trouble, carrying
the weak tissue away with it.[1]
7. They do not, however, stop here; even our acts, where each one feels
his will ruling, I mean, the practice of virtue or of vice, depend, according to
them, on the influence of celestial bodies. It would be ridiculous seriously to
refute such an error, but, as it holds a great many in its nets, perhaps it is
better not to pass it over in silence. I would first ask them if the figures
which the stars describe do not change a thousand times a day. In the perpetual
motion of planets, some meet in a more rapid course, others make slower
revolutions, and often in an hour we see them look at each other and then hide
themselves. Now, at the hour of birth, it is very important whether one is looked upon
by a beneficent star or by an evil one, to speak their language. Often then
the astrologers do not seize the moment when a good star shows itself, and, on
account of having let this fugitive moment escape, they enrol the newborn under
the influence of a bad genius. I am compelled to use their own words. What
madness! But, above all, what impiety! For the evil stars throw the blame of their
wickedness upon Him Who trade them. If evil is inherent in their nature, the
Creator is the author of evil. If they make it themselves, they are animals
endowed with the power of choice, whose acts will be free and voluntary. Is it not
the height of folly to tell these lies about beings without souls? Again, what a
want of sense does it show to distribute good and evil without regard to
personal merit; to say that a star is beneficent because it occupies a certain place;
that it becomes evil, because it is viewed by another star; and that if it
moves ever so little from this figure it loses its malign influence.
But let us pass on. If, at every instant of duration, the stars vary their
figures, then in these thousand changes, many times a day, there ought to be
reproduced the configuration of royal births. Why then does not every day see
the birth of a king? Why is there a succession on the throne from father to son?
Without doubt there has never been a king who has taken measures to have his
son born under the star of royalty. For what man possesses such a power? How then
did Uzziah beget Jotham, Jotham Ahaz, Ahaz Hezekiah? And by what chance did
the birth of none of them happen in an hour of slavery? If the origin of our
virtues and of our vices is not in ourselves, but is the fatal consequence of our
birth, it is useless for legislators to prescribe for us what we ought to do,
and what we ought to avoid; it is useless for judges to honour virtue and to
punish vice. The guilt is not in the robber, not in the assassin: it was willed for
him; it was impossible for him to hold back his hand, urged to evil by
inevitable necessity. Those who laboriously cultivate the arts are the maddest of men.
The labourer will make an abundant harvest without sowing seed and without
sharpening his sickle. Whether he wishes it or not, the merchant will make his
fortune, and will be flooded with riches by fate. As for us Christians, we shall
see our great hopes vanish, since from the moment that man does not act with
freedom, there is neither reward for justice, nor punishment for sin. Under the
reign of necessity and of fatality there is no place for merit, the first
condition of all righteous judgment. But let us stop. You who are sound in yourselves
have no need to hear more, and time does not allow us to make attacks without
limit against these unhappy men.
8. Let its return to the words which follow. "Let them be for signs and
for seasons and for days and years."[1] We have spoken about signs. By times, we
understand the succession of seasons, winter, spring, summer and autumn, which
we see follow each other in so regular a course, thanks to the regularity of
the movement of the luminaries. It is winter when the sun sojourns in the south
and produces in abundance the shades of night in our region. The air spread over
the earth is chilly, and the damp exhalations, which gather over our heads,
give rise to rains, to frosts, to innumerable flakes of snow. When, returning
from the southern regions, the sun is in the middle of the heavens and divides day
and night into equal parts, the more it sojourns above the earth the more it
brings back a mild temperature to us. Then comes spring, which makes all the
plants germinate, and gives to the greater part of the trees their new life, and,
by successive generation, perpetuates all the land and water animals. From
thence the sun, returning to the summer solstice, in the direction of the North,
gives us the longest days. And, as it travels farther in the air, it burns that
which is over our heads, dries up the earth, ripens the grains and hastens the
maturity of the fruits of the trees. At the epoch of its greatest heat, the
shadows which the sun makes at mid-day are short, because it shines from above,
from the air over our heads. Thus the longest days are those when the shadows are
shortest, in the same way that the shortest days are those when the shadows are
longest. It is this which happens to all of us "Hetero-skii" [1]
(shadowed-on-one-side) who inhabit the northern regions of the earth. But there are people
who, two days in the year, are completely without shade at mid-day, because the
sun, being perpendicularly over their heads, lights them so equally from all
sides, that it could through a narrow opening shine at the bottom of a well. Thus
there are some who call them "askii" (shadowless). For those who live beyond
the land of spices[2] see their shadow now on one side, now on another, the only
inhabitants of this land of which the shade falls at mid-day; thus they are
given the name of "amphiskii,"[3] (shadowed-on-both-sides). All these phenomena
happen whilst the sun is passing into northern regions: they give us an idea of
the heat thrown on the air, by the rays of the sun and of the effects that they
produce. Next we pass to autumn, which breaks up the excessive heat, lessening
the warmth little by little, and by a moderate temperature brings us back
without suffering to winter, to the time when the sun returns from the northern
regions to the southern. It is thus that seasons, following the course of the sun,
succeed each other to rule our life.
"Let them be for days"[1] says Scripture, not to produce them but to rule
them; because day and night tire older than the creation of the luminaries and
it is this that the psalm declares to us. "The sun to rule by day ... the moon
and stars to rule by night."[2] How does the sun rule by day? Because carrying
everywhere light with it, it is no sooner risen above the horizon than it
drives away darkness and brings us day. Thus we might, without self deception,
define day as air lighted by the sun, or as the space of time that the sun passes in
our hemisphere. The functions of the sun and moon serve further to mark years.
The moon, after having twelve times run her course, forms a year which
sometimes needs an intercalary month to make it exactly agree with the seasons. Such
was formerly the year of the Hebrews and of the early Greeks.[3] As to the solar
year, it is the time that the sun, having started from a certain sign, takes
to return to it in its normal progress.
9. "And God made two great lights "[4] The word "great," if, for example
we say it of the heaven of the earth or of the sea, may have an absolute sense;
but ordinarily it has only a relative meaning, as a great horse, or a great ox.
It is not that these animals are of an immoderate size, but that in comparison
with their like they deserve the title of great. What idea shall we ourselves
form here of greatness? Shall it be the idea that we have of it in the ant and
in all the little creatures of nature, which we call great in comparison with
those like themselves, and to show their superiority over them? Or shall we
predicate greatness of the luminaries, as of the natural greatness inherent in
them? As for me, I think so. If the sun and moon are great, it is not in comparison
with the smaller stars, but because they have such a circumference that the
splendour which they diffuse lights up the heavens and the air, embracing at the
same time earth and sea. In whatever part of heaven they may be, whether
rising, or setting, or in mid heaven, they appear always the same in the eyes of men,
a manifest proof of their prodigious size. For the whole extent of heaven
cannot make them appear greater in one place and smaller in another. Objects which
we see afar off appear dwarfed to our eyes, and in measure as they approach us
we can form a juster idea of their size. But there is no one who can be nearer
or more distant from the sun. All the inhabitants of the earth see it at the
same distance. Indians and Britons see it of the same size. The people of the
East do not see it decrease in magnitude when it sets; those of the West do not
find it smaller when it rises. If it is in the middle of the heavens it does not
vary in either aspect. Do not be deceived by mere appearance, and because it
looks a cubit's breadth, imagine it to be no bigger.[1] At a very great distance
objects always lose size in our eyes; sight, not being able to clear the
intermediary space, is as it were exhausted in the middle of its coarse, and only a
small part of it reaches the visible object.[2] Our power of sight is small and
makes all we see seem small, affecting what it sees by its own condition.
Thus, then, if sight is mistaken its testimony is fallible. Recall your own
impressions and you will find in yourself the proof of my words. If you bare ever from
the top of a high mountain looked at a large and level plain, how big did the
yokes of oxen appear to you? How big were the ploughmen themselves? Did they
not look like ants?[3] If from the top of a commanding rock, looking over the
wide sea, you cast your eyes over the vast extent how big did the greatest islands
appear to you? How large did one of those barks of great tonnage, which unfurl
their white sails to the blue sea, appear to you. Did it not look smaller than
a dove? It is because sight, as I have just told you, loses itself in the air,
becomes weak and cannot seize with exactness the object which it sees. And
further: your sight shows you high mountains intersected by valleys as rounded and
smooth, because it reaches only to the salient parts, and is not able, on
account of its weakness, to penetrate into the valleys which separate them. It does
not even preserve the form of objects, and thinks that all square towers are
round. Thus all proves that at a great distance sight only presents to us
obscure and confused objects. The luminary is then great, according to the witness of
Scripture, and infinitely greater than it appears.
10. See again another evident proof of its greatness. Although the heaven
may be full of stars without number, the light contributed by them all could
not disperse the gloom of night. The sun alone, from the time that it appeared on
the horizon, while it was still expected and had not yet risen completely
above the earth, dispersed the darkness, outshone the stars, dissolved and diffused
the air, which was hitherto thick and condensed over our heads, and produced
thus the morning breeze and the dew which in fine weather streams over the
earth. Could the earth with such a wide extent be lighted up entirely in one moment
if an immense disc were not pouring forth its light over it? Recognise here the
wisdom of the Artificer. See how He made the heat of the sun proportionate to
this distance. Its heat is so regulated that it neither consumes the earth by
excess, nor lets it grow cold and sterile by defect.
To all this the properties of the moon are near akin; she, too, has an
immense body, whose splendour only yields to that of the sun. Our eyes, however,
do not always see her in her full size. Now she presents a perfectly rounded
disc, now when diminished and lessened she shows a deficiency on one side. When
waxing she is shadowed on one side, and when she is waning another side is
hidden. Now it is not without a secret reason of the divine Maker of the universe,
that the moon appears from time to time under such different forms. It presents a
striking example of our nature. Nothing is stable in man; here from
nothingness he raises himself to perfection; there after having hasted to put forth his
strength to attain his full greatness he suddenly is subject to gradual
deterioration, and is destroyed by diminution. Thus, the sight of the moon, making us
think of the rapid vicissitudes of human things, ought to teach us not to pride
ourselves on the good things of this life, and not to glory in our power, not
to be carried away by uncertain riches, to despise our flesh which is subject to
change, and to take care of the soul, for its good is unmoved. If you cannot
behold without sadness the moon losing its splendour by gradual and
imperceptible decrease, how much more distressed should you be at the sight of a soul, who,
after having possessed virtue, loses its beauty by neglect, and does not
remain constant to its affections, but is agitated and constantly changes because
its purposes are unstable. What Scripture says is very true, "As for a fool he
changeth as the moon."[1]
I believe also that the variations of the moon do not take place without
exerting great influence upon the organization of animals and of all living
things. This is because bodies are differently disposed at its waxing and waning.
When she wanes they lose their density and become void. When she waxes and is
approaching her fulness they appear to fill themselves at the same time with her,
thanks to an imperceptible moisture that she emits mixed with heat, which
penetrates everywhere.[2] For proof, see how those who sleep under the moon feel
abundant moisture filling their heads;[3] see how fresh meat is quickly turned
under the action of the moon;[4] see the brain of animals, the moistest part of
marine animals, the pith of trees. Evidently the moon must be, as Scripture
says, of enormous size and power to make all nature thus participate in her changes.
11. On its variations depends also the condition of the air, as is proved
by sudden disturbances which often come after the new moon, in the midst of a
calm and of a stillness in the winds, to agitate the clouds and to hurl them
against each other; as the flux and reflux in straits, and the ebb and flow of the
ocean prove, so that those who live on its shores see it regularly following
the revolutions of the moon. The waters of straits approach and retreat from one
shore to the other during the different phases of the moon; but, when she is
new, they have not an instant of rest, and move in perpetual swaying to and fro,
until the moon, reappearing, regulates their reflux. As to the Western sea,[1]
we see it in its ebb and flow now return into its bed, and now overflow, as
the moon draws it back by her respiration and then, by her expiration, urges it
to its own boundaries.[2]
I have entered into these details, to show you the grandeur of the
luminaries, and to make you see that, in the inspired words, there is not one idle
syllable. And yet my sermon has scarcely touched on any important point; there are
many other discoveries about the size and distance of the sun and moon to
which any one who will make a serious study of their action and of their
characteristics may arrive by the aid of reason. Let me then ingenuously make an avowal
of my weakness, for fear that you should measure the mighty works of the Creator
by my words. The little that I have said ought the rather to make you
conjecture the marvels on which I have omitted to dwell. We must not then measure the
moon with the eye, but with the reason. Reason, for the discovery of truth, is
much surer than the eye.
Everywhere ridiculous old women's tales, imagined in the delirium of
drunkenness, have been circulated; such as that enchantmeats can remove the moon
from its place and make it descend to the earth. How could a magician's charm
shake that of which the Most High has laid the foundations? And if once torn out
what place could hold it?[3]
Do you wish from slight indications to have a proof of the moon's size?
All the towns in the world, however distant from each other, equally receive the
light from the moon in those streets that are turned towards its rising If she
did not look on all face to face, those only would be entirely lighted up which
were exactly opposite; as to those beyond the extremities of her disc, they
would only receive diverted and oblique rays. It is this effect which the light
of lamps produces in houses; if a lamp is surrounded by several persons, only
the shadow of the person who is directly opposite to it is cast in a straight
line, the others follow inclined lines on each side. In the same way, if the body
of the moon were not of an immense and prodigious size she could not extend
herself alike to all. In reality, when the moon rises in the equinoctial regions,
all equally enjoy her light, both those who inhabit the icy zone, under the
revolutions of the Bear, and those who dwell in the extreme south in the
neighbourhood of the torrid zone. She gives us an idea of her size by appearing to be
face to face with all people. Who then can deny the immensity of a body which
divides itself equally over such a wide extent?
But enough on the greatness of the sun and moon. May He Who has given us
intelligence to recognise in the smallest objects of creation the great wisdom
of the Contriver make us find in great bodies a still higher idea of their
Creator. However, compared with their Author, the sun and moon are but a fly and an
ant. The whole universe cannot give us a right idea of the greatness of God;
and it is only by signs, weak and slight in themselves, often by the help of the
smallest insects and of the least plants, that we raise ourselves to Him.
Content with these words let us offer our thanks, I to Him who has given me the
ministry of the Word, you to Him who feeds you with spiritual food; Who, even at
this moment, makes you find in my weak voice the strength of barley bread. May
He feed you for ever, and in proportion to your faith grant you the
manifestation of the Spirit[1] in Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom be glory and power for
ever and ever. Amen.
HOMILY VII.
The creation of moving creatures.[2]
1. "And God said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving
creature that hath life" after their kind, "and fowl that may fly above the earth"
after their kind.[3] After the creation of the luminaries the waters are now
filled with living beings and its own adornment is given to this part of the world.
Earth had received hers from her own plants, the heavens had received the
flowers of the stars, and, like two eyes, the great luminaries beautified them in
concert. It still retained for the waters to receive their adornment. The command
was given, and immediately the rivers and lakes becoming fruitful brought
forth their natural broods; the sea travailed with all kinds of swimming creatures;
not even in mud and marshes did the water remain idle; it took its part in
creation. Everywhere from its ebullition frogs, gnats and flies came forth. For
that which we see to-day is the sign of the past. Thus everywhere the water
hastened to obey the Creator's command. Who could count the species which the great
and ineffable power of God caused to be suddenly seen living and moving, when
this command had empowered the waters to bring forth life? Let the waters bring
forth moving creatures that have life. Then for the first time is made a being
with life and feeling. For though plants and trees be said to live, seeing that
they share the power of being nourished and growing; nevertheless they are
neither living beings, nor have they life.[1] To create these last God said, "Let
the water produce moving creatures."
Every creature that swims, whether it skims on the surface of the waters,
or cleaves the depths, is of the nature of a moving creature,[2] since it drags
itself on the body of the water. Certain aquatic animals have feet and walk;
especially amphibia, such as seals, crabs, crocodiles, river horses[3] and
frogs; but they are above all gifted with the power of swimming. Thus it is said,
Let the waters produce moving creatures. In these few words what species is
omitted? Which is not included in the command of the Creator? Do we not see
viviparous animals, seals, dolphins, rays and all cartilaginous animals? Do we not see
oviparous animals comprising every sort of fish, those which have a skin and
those which have scales, those which have fins and those which have not? This
command has only required one word, even less than a word, a sign, a motion of the
divine will, and it has such a wide sense that it includes all the varieties
and all the families of fish. To review them all would be to undertake to count
the waves of the ocean or to measure its waters in the hollow of the hand. "Let
the waters produce moving creatures." That is to say, those which people the
high seas and those which love the shores; those which inhabit the depths and
those which attach themselves to rocks; those which are gregarious and those
which live dispersed, the cetaceous, the huge, and the tiny. It is from the same
power, the same command, that all, small and great receive their existence. "Let
the waters bring forth." These words show you the natural affinity of animals
which swim in the water; thus, fish, when drawn out of the water, quickly die,
because they have no respiration such as could attract our air and water is
their element, as air is that of terrestrial animals. The reason for it is clear.
With us the lung, that porous and spongy portion of the inward parts which
receives air by the dilatation of the chest, disperses and cools interior warmth; in
fish the motion of the gills, which open and shut by turns to take in and to
eject the water, takes the place of respiration.[1] Fish have a peculiar lot, a
special nature, a nourishment of their own, a life apart. Thus they cannot be
tamed and cannot bear the touch of a man's hand.[2]
2. "Let the waters bring forth moving creatures after their kind." God
caused to be born the firstlings of each species to serve as seeds for nature.
Their multitudinous numbers are kept up in subsequent succession, when it is
necessary for them to grow and multiply. Of another kind is the species of testacea,
as muscles, scallops, sea snails, conches, and the infinite variety of
oysters. Another kind is that of the crustacea, as crabs and lobsters; another of fish
without shells, with soft and tender flesh, like polypi and cuttle fish. And
amidst these last what an innumerable variety! There are weevers, lampreys and
eels, produced in the mud of rivers and ponds, which more resemble venomous
reptiles than fish in their nature. Of another kind is the species of the ovipara;
of another, that of the vivipara. Among the latter are sword-fish, cod, in one
word, all cartilaginous fish, and even the greater part of the cetacea, as
dolphins, seals, which, it is said, if they see their little ones, still quite
young, frightened, take them back into their belly to protect them.(1)
Let the waters bring forth after kind. The species of the cetacean is one;
another is that of small fish. What infinite variety in the different kinds!
All have their own names, different food, different form, shape, and quality of
flesh. All present infinite variety, and are divided into innumerable classes.
Is there a tunny fisher who can enumerate to us the different varieties of that
fish? And yet they tell us that at the sight of great swarms of fish they can
almost tell the number of the individual ones which compose it. What man is
there of all that have spent their long lives by coasts and shores, who can inform
us with exactness of the history of all fish?
Some are known to the fishermen of the Indian ocean, others to the toilers
of the Egyptian gulf, others to the islanders, others to the men of
Mauretania.(2) Great and small were all alike created by this first command by this
ineffable power. What a difference in their food! What a variety in the manner in
which each species reproduces itself! Most fish do not hatch eggs like birds;
they do not build nests; they do not feed their young with toil; it is the water
which receives and vivifies the egg dropped into it. With them the reproduction
of each species is invariable, and natures are not mixed. There are none of
those unions which, on the earth, produce mules and certain birds contrary to the
nature of their species. With fish there is no variety which, like the ox and
the sheep, is armed with a half-equipment of teeth, none which ruminates
except, according to certain writers, the scar.(3) All have serried and very sharp
teeth, for fear their food should escape them if they masticate it for too long a
time. In fact, if it were not crushed and swallowed as soon as divided, it
would be carried away by the water.
3. The food of fish differs according to their species. Some feed on mud;
others eat sea weed; others content themselves with the herbs that grow in
water. But the greater part devour each other, and the smaller is food for the
larger, and if one which has possessed itself of a fish weaker than itself becomes
a prey to another, the conqueror and the conquered are both swallowed up in the
belly of the last. And we mortals, do we act otherwise when we press our
inferiors?(1) What difference is there between the last fish and the man who,
impelled by devouring greed, swallows the weak in the folds of his insatiable
avarice? Yon fellow possessed the goods of the poor; you caught him and made him a
part of your abundance. You have shown yourself more unjust than the unjust, and
more miserly than the miser. Look to it lest you end like the fish, by hook, by
weel, or by net. Surely we too, when we have done the deeds of the wicked,
shall not escape punishment at the last.
Now see what tricks, what cunning, are to be found in a weak animal, and
learn not to imitate wicked doers. The crab loves the flesh of the oyster; but,
sheltered by its shell, a solid rampart with which nature has furnished its
soft and delicate flesh, it is a difficult prey to seize. Thus they call the
oyster "sherd-hide."(2) Thanks to the two shells with which it is enveloped, and
which adapt themselves perfectly the one to the other, the claws of the crab are
quite powerless. What does he do? When he sees it, sheltered from the wind,
warming itself with pleasure, and half opening its shells to the sun,(3) he
secretly throws in a pebble, prevents them from closing, and takes by cunning what
force had lost.(4) Such is the malice of these animals, deprived as they are of
reason and of speech. But I would that you should at once rival the crab in
cunning and industry, and abstain from harming your neighbour; this animal is the
image of him who craftily approaches his brother, takes advantage of his
neighbour's misfortunes, and finds his delight in other men's troubles. O copy not
the damned! Content yourself with your own lot. Poverty, with what is necessary,
is of more value in the eyes of the wise than all pleasures.
I will not pass in silence the cunning and trickery of the squid, which
takes the colour of the rock to which it attaches itself. Most fish swim idly up
to the squid as they might to a rock, and become themselves the prey of the
crafty creature.(5) Such are men who court ruling powers, bending themselves to
all circumstances and not remaining for a moment in the same purpose; who praise
self-restraint in the company of the self-restrained, and license in that of
the licentious, accommodating their feelings to the pleasure of each. It is
difficult to escape them and to put ourselves on guard against their mischief;
because it is trader the mask of friendship that they hide their clever wickedness.
Men like this are ravening wolves covered with sheep's clothing, as the Lord
calls them.(1) Flee then fickleness and pliability; seek truth, sincerity,
simplicity. The serpent is shifty; so he has been condemned to crawl. The just is an
honest man, like Job.(2) Wherefore God setteth the solitary in families.(3) So
is this great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small
and great beasts.(4) Yet a wise and marvellous order reigns among these
animals. Fish do not always deserve our reproaches; often they offer us useful
examples. How is it that each sort of fish, content with the region that has been
assigned to it, never travels over its own limits to pass into foreign seas? No
surveyor has ever distributed to them their habitations, nor enclosed them in
walls, nor assigned limits to them; each kind has been naturally assigned its own
home. One gulf nourishes one kind of fish, another other sorts; those which
swarm here are absent elsewhere. No mountain raises its sharp peaks between them;
no rivers bar the passage to them; it is a law of nature, which according to
the needs of each kind, has allotted to them their dwelling places with equality
and justice.(5)
4. It is not thus with us. Why? Because we incessantly move the ancient
landmarks which our fathers have set.(1) We encroach, we add house to house,
field to field, to enrich ourselves at the expense of our neighbour. The great fish
know the sojourning place that nature has assigned to them; they occupy the
sea far from the haunts of men, where no islands lie, and where are no continents
rising to confront them, because it has never been crossed and neither
curiosity nor need has persuaded sailors to tempt it. The monsters that dwell in this
sea are in size like high mountains, so witnesses who have seen tell us, and
never cross their boundaries to ravage islands and seaboard towns. Thus each kind
is as if it were stationed in towns, in villages, in an ancient country, and
has for its dwelling place the regions of the sea which have been assigned to it.
Instances have, however, been known of migratory fish, who, as if common
deliberation transported them into strange regions, all start on their march at
a given sign. When the time marked for breeding arrives, they, as if awakened
by a common law of nature, migrate from gulf to gulf, directing their course
toward the North Sea. And at the epoch of their return you may see all these fish
streaming like a torrent across the Propontis towards the Euxine Sea. Who puts
them in marching array? Where is the prince's order? Has an edict affixed in
the public place indicated to them their day of departure? Who serves them as a
guide? See how the divine order embraces all and extends to the smallest object.
A fish does not resist God's law, and we men cannot endure His precepts of
salvation! Do not despise fish because they are dumb and quite unreasoning; rather
fear lest, in your resistance to the disposition of the Creator, you have even
less reason than they. Listen to the fish, who by their actions all but speak
and say: it is for the perpetuation of our race that we undertake this long
voyage. They have not the gift of reason, but they have the law of nature firmly
seated within them, to show them what they have to do. Let us go, they say, to
the North Sea. Its water is sweeter than that of the rest of the sea; for the
sun does not remain long there, and its rays do not draw up all the drinkable
portions.(1) Even sea creatures love fresh watery TIres one often sees them enter
into rivers and swim far up them from the sea. This is the reason which makes
them prefer the Euxine Sea to other gulfs, as the most fit for breeding and
for bringing up their young. When they have obtained their object the whole
tribe returns home. Let us hear these dumb creatures tell us the reason. The
Northern sea, they say, is shallow and its surface is exposed to the violence of the
wind, and it has few shores and retreats. Thus the winds easily agitate it to
its bottom and mingle the sands of its bed with its waves. Besides, it is cold
in winter, filled as it is from all directions by large rivers. Wherefore after
a moderate enjoyment of its waters, during the summer, when the winter comes
they hasten to reach warmer depths and places heated by the sun, and after
fleeing froth the stormy tracts of the North, they seek a haven in less agitated
seas.
5. I myself have seen these marvels, and I have admired the wisdom of God
in all things, If beings deprived of reason are capable of thinking and of
providing for their own preservation; if a fish knows what it ought to seek and
what to shun, what shall we say, who are honoured with reason. instructed by law,
encouraged by the promises, made wise by the Spirit, and are nevertheless less
reasonable about our own affairs than the fish? They know how to provide for
the future, but we renounce our hope of the future and spend our life in brutal
indulgence. A fish traverses the extent of the sea to find what is good for it;
what will yon say then--you who live in idleness, the mother of all vices?(3)
Do not let any one make his ignorance an excuse. There has been implanted in us
natural reason which tells us to identify ourselves with good, and to avoid
all that is harmful. I need not go far from the sea to find examples, as that is
the object of our researches. I have heard it said by one living near the sea,
that the sea urchin, a little contemptible creature, often foretells calm and
tempest to sailors. When it foresees a disturbance of the winds, it gets under a
great pebble, and clinging to it as to an anchor, it tosses about in safety,
retained by the weight which prevents it from becoming the plaything of the
waves.(1) It is a certain sign for sailors that they are threatened with a violent
agitation of the winds. No astrologer, no Chaldaean, reading in the rising of
the stars the disturbances of the air, has ever communicated his secret to the
urchin: it is the Lord of the sea and of the winds who has impressed on this
little animal a manifest proof of His great wisdom. God has foreseen all, He has
neglected nothing. His eye, which never sleeps, watches over all.(2) He is
present everywhere and gives to each being the means of preservation. If God has not
left the sea urchin outside His providence, is He without care for you?
"Husbands love your wives."(3) Although formed of two bodies you are
united to live in the communion of wedlock. May this natural link, may this yoke
imposed by the blessing, reunite those who are divided. The viper, the cruelest of
reptiles, unites itself with the sea lamprey, and, announcing its presence by
a hiss, it calls it from the depths to conjugal union. The lamprey obeys, and
is united to this venomous animal.(4) What does this mean? However hard, however
fierce a husband may be, the wife ought to hear with him, and not wish to find
any pretext for breaking the union. He strikes you, but he is your husband. He
is a drunkard, but he is united to you by nature. He is brutal and cross, but
he is henceforth one of your members, and the most precious of all.
6. Let husbands listen as well: here is a lesson for them. The viper
vomits forth its venom in respect for marriage; and you, will you not put aside the
barbarity and the inhumanity of your soul, out of respect for your union?
Perhaps the example of the viper contains another meaning. The union of the viper
and of the lamprey is an adulterous violation of nature. You, who are plotting
against other men's wedlock, learn what creeping creature you are like. I have
only one object, to make all I say turn to the edification of the Church. Let
then libertines put a restraint on their passions, for they are taught by the
examples set by creatures of earth and sea.
My bodily infirmity and the lateness of the hour force me to end my
discourse. However, I have still many observations to make on the products of the
sea, for the admiration of my attentive audience. To speak of the sea itself, how
does its water change into salt? How is it that coral, a stone so much
esteemed, is a plant in the midst of the sea, and when once exposed to the air becomes
hard as a rock? Why has nature enclosed in the meanest of animals, in an
oyster, so precious an object as a pearl? For these pearls, which are coveted by the
caskets of kings, are cast upon the shores, upon the coasts, upon sharp rocks,
and enclosed in oyster shells. How can the sea pinna produce her fleece of
gold, which no dye has ever imitated?(1) How can shells give kings purple of a
brilliancy not surpassed by the flowers of the field?
"Let the waters bring forth." What necessary object was there that did not
immediately appear? What object of luxury was not given to man? Some to supply
his needs, some to make him contemplate the marvels of creation. Some are
terrible, so as to take oar idleness to school. "God created great whales."(2)
Scripture gives them the name of "great" not because they are greater than a shrimp
and a sprat, but because the size of their bodies equals that of great hills.
Thus when they swim on the surface of the waters one often sees them appear
like islands. But these monstrous creatures do not frequent our coasts and shores;
they inhabit the Atlantic ocean. Such are these animals created to strike us
with terror and awe. If now you hear say that the greatest vessels, sailing with
full sails, are easily stopped by a very small fish, by the remora, and so
forcibly that the ship remains motionless for a long time, as if it had taken root
in the middle of the sea,(3) do you not see in this little creature a like
proof of the power of the Creator? Sword fish, saw fish, dog fish, whales, and
sharks, are not therefore the only things to be dreaded; we have to fear no less
the spike of the stingray even after its death,(1) and the sea-hare,(2) whose
mortal blows are as rapid as they are inevitable. Thus the Creator wishes that
all may keep you awake, so that full of hope in Him you may avoid the evils with
which all these creatures threaten you.
But let us come out of the depths of the sea and take refuge upon the
shore. For the marvels of creation, coming one after the other in constant
succession like the waves, have submerged my discourse. However, I should not be
surprised if, after finding greater wonders upon the earth, my spirit seeks like
Jonah's to flee to the sea. But it seems to me, that meeting with these innumerable
marvels has made me forget all measure, and experience the fate of those who
navigate the high seas without a fixed point to mark their progress, anti are
often ignorant of the space which they have traversed. This is what has happened
to me; whilst my words glanced at creation, I have not been sensible of the
multitude of beings of which I spoke to you. But although this honourable assembly
is pleased by my speech, and the recital of the marvels of the Master is
grateful to the ears of His servants, let me here bring the ship of my discourse to
anchor, and await the day to deliver you the rest. Let us, therefore, all
arise, and, giving thanks for what has been said, let us ask for strength to hear
the rest. Whilst taking your food may the conversation at your table turn upon
what has occupied us this morning and this evening. Filled with these thoughts
may you, even in sleep, enjoy the pleasure of the day, so that you may be
permitted to say, "I sleep but my heart waketh,"(3) meditating day and night upon the
law of the Lord, to Whom be glory and power world without end. Amen.
HOMILY VIII.
The creation of fowl and water animals.(4)
1. And God said "Let the earth bring forth the living creature after his
kind, cattle and creeping things, and beast of the earth after his kind; and it
was so."(5) The command of God advanced step by step and earth thus received
her adornment. Yesterday it was said, "Let the waters produce moving things," and
to-day "let the earth bring forth the living creature." Is the earth then
alive? And are the mad-minded Manichaeans right in giving it a soul? At these words
"Let the earth bring forth," it did not produce a germ contained in it, but He
who gave the order at the same time gifted it with the grace and power to
bring forth. When the earth had heard this command "Let the earth bring forth grass
and the tree yielding fruit," it was not grass that it had hidden in it that
it caused to spring forth, it did not bring to the surface a palm tree, an oak,
a cypress, hitherto kept back in its depths. It is the word of God which forms
the nature of things created. "Let the earth bring forth;" that is to say not
that she may bring forth that which she has but that she may acquire that which
she lacks, when God gives her the power. Even so now, "Let the earth bring
forth the living creature," not the living creature that is contained in herself,
but that which the command of God gives her. Further, the Manichaeans contradict
themselves, because if the earth has brought forth the life, she has left
herself despoiled of life. Their execrable doctrine needs no demonstration.
But why did the waters receive the command to bring forth the moving
creature that hath life and the earth to bring forth the living creature? We
conclude that, by their nature, swimming creatures appear only to have an imperfect
life, because they live in the thick element of water. They are hard of hearing,
and their sight is dull because they see through the water; they have no
memory, no imagination, no idea of social intercourse. Thus divine language appears
to indicate that, in aquatic animals, the carnal life originates their psychic
movements, whilst in terrestrial animals, gifted with a more perfect life,(1)
the soul(2) enjoys supreme authority. In fact the greater part of quadrupeds have
more power of penetration in their senses; their apprehension of present
objects is keen, and they keep all exact remembrance of the past. It seems
therefore, that God, after the command given to the waters to bring forth moving
creatures that have life, created simply living bodies for aquatic animals, whilst for
terrestrial animals He commanded the soul to exist and to direct the body,
showing thus that the inhabitants of the earth are gifted with greater vital
force. Without doubt terrestrial animals are devoid of reason. At the same tithe how
many affections of the soul each one of them expresses by the voice of nature!
They express by cries their joy and sadness, recognition of what is familiar
to them, the need of food, regret at being separated from their companions, and
numberless emotions. Aquatic animals, on the contrary, are not only dumb; it is
impossible to tame them, to teach them, to train them for man's society.(1)
"The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib." (2) But the fish does
not know who feeds him. The ass knows a familiar voice, he knows the road which
he has often trodden, and even, if man loses his way, he sometimes serves him
as a guide. His hearing is more acute than that of any other terrestrial
animal. What animal of the sea can show so much rancour and resentment as the camel?
The camel conceals its resentment for a long time after it has been struck,
until it finds an opportunity, and then repays the wrong. Listen, you whose heart
does not pardon, you who practise vengeance as a virtue; see what you resemble
when you keep your anger for so long against your neighbour like a spark,
hidden in the ashes, and only waiting for fuel to set your heart ablaze!
2. "Let the earth bring forth a living soul." Why did the earth produce a
living soul? so that you may make a difference between the soul of cattle and
that of man. You will soon learn how the human soul was formed; hear now about
the soul of creatures devoid of reason. Since, according to Scripture, "the life
of every creature is in the blood,"(3) as the blood when thickened changes
into flesh, and flesh when corrupted decomposes into earth, so the soul of beasts
is naturally an earthy substance. "Let the earth bring forth a living soul."
See the affinity of the soul with blood, of blood with flesh,of flesh with earth;
and remounting in an inverse sense from the earth to the flesh, from the flesh
to the blood, from the blood to the soul, you will find that the soul of
beasts is earth. Do not suppose that it is older than the essence(4) of their body,
nor that it survives the dissolution of the flesh;(5) avoid the non-sense of
those arrogant philosophers who do not blush to liken their soul to that of a
dog; who say that they have been formerly themselves women, shrubs, fish.(1) Have
they ever been fish? I do not know; but I do not fear to affirm that in their
writings they show less sense than fish. "Let the earth bring forth the living
creature." Perhaps many of you ask why there is such a long silence in the
middle of the rapid rush of my discourse. The more studious among my auditors will
not be ignorant of the reason why words fail me. What! Have I not seen them look
at each other, and make signs to make me look at them, and to remind me of
what I have passed over? I have forgotten a part of the creation, and that one of
the most considerable, and my discourse was almost finished without touching
upon it. "Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath
life and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament, of heaven."(2) I
spoke of fish as long as eventide allowed: to-day we have passed to the
examination of terrestrial animals; between the two, birds have escaped as. We are
forgetful like travellers who unmindful of some important object, are obliged,
although they be far on their road, to retrace their steps, punished for their
negligence by the weariness of the journey. So we have to turn back. That which
we have omitted is not to be despised. It is the third part of the animal
creation, if indeed there are three kinds of animals, land, winged and water.
"Let the waters" it is said "bring forth abundantly moving creature that
hath life and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of
heaven." Why do the waters give birth also to birds? Because there is, so to say, a
family link between the creatures that fly and those that swim. In the same way
that fish cut the waters, using their fins to carry them forward and their tails
to direct their movements round and round and straightforward, so we see birds
float in the air by the help of their wings. Both endowed with the property of
swimming, their common derivation from the waters has made them of one
family.(3) At the same time no bird is without feet, because finding all its food upon
the earth it cannot do without their service. Rapacious birds have pointed
claws to enable them to close on their prey; to the rest has been given the
indispensable ministry of feet to seek their food and to provide for the other needs
of life. There are a few who walk badly, whose feet are neither suitable for
walking nor for preying. Among this number are swallows, incapable of walking and
seeking their prey, and the birds called swifts(1) who live on little insects
carried about by the air. As to the swallow, its flight, which grazes the
earth, fulfils the function of feet.
3. There are also innumerable kinds of birds. If we review them all, as we
have partly done the fish, we shall find that under one name, the creatures
which fly differ infinitely in size, form and colour; that in their life, their
actions and their manners, they present a variety equally beyond the power of
description. Thus some have tried to imagine names for them of which the
singularity and the strangeness might, like brands, mark the distinctive character of
each kind known. Some, as eagles, have been called Schizoptera, others
Dermoptera, as the bats, others Ptilota, as wasps, others Coleoptera, as beetles and all
those insects which brought forth in cases and coverings, break their prison
to fly away in liberty.(2) But we have enough words of common usage to
characterise each species and to mark the distinction which Scripture sets up between
clean and unclean birds. Thus the species of carnivora is of one sort and of one
constitution which suits their manner of living, sharp talons, curved beak,
swift wings, allowing them to swoop easily upon their prey and to tear it up after
having seized it.(3) The constitution of those who pick up seeds is different,
and again that of those who live on all they come across. What a variety in
all these creatures! Some are gregarious, except the birds of prey who know no
other society than conjugal union; but innumerable kinds, doves, cranes,
starlings, jackdaws, like a common life.(4) Among them some live without a chief and in
a sort of independence; others, as cranes, do not refuse to submit themselves
to a leader. And a fresh difference between them is that some are stationary
and non-migratory; others undertake long voyages and the greater part of them,
migrate at the approach of winter. Nearly all birds can be tamed and are capable
of training, except the weakest, who through fear and timidity cannot bear the
constant and annoying contact of the hand. Some like the society of man and
inhabit our dwellings; others delight in mountains and in desert places. There is
a great difference too in their peculiar notes. Some twitter and chatter,
others are silent, some have a melodious and sonorous voice, some are wholly
inharmonious and incapable of song; some imitate the voice of many taught their
mimicry either by nature or training;(1) others always give forth the same monotonous
cry. The cock is proud; the peacock is vain of his beauty; doves and fowls are
amorous, always seeking each other's society. The partridge is deceitful and
jealous, lending perfidious help to the huntsmen to seize their prey.(2)
4. What a variety, I have said, in the actions and lives of flying
creatures. Some of these unreasoning creatures even have a government, if the feature
of government is to make the activity of all the individuals centre in one
common end. This may be observed in bees. They have a common dwelling place; they
fly in the air together, they work at the same work together; and what is
still more extraordinary is that they give themselves to these labours under the
guidance of a king and superintendent, and that they do not allow themselves to
fly to the meadows without seeing if the king is flying at their head. As to
this king, it is not election that gives him this authority; ignorance on the part
of the people often puts the worst man in power; it is not fate; the blind
decisions of fate often give authority to the most unworthy. It is not heredity
that places him on the throne; it is only too common to see the children of
kings, corrupted by luxury and flattery, living in ignorance of all virtue. It is
nature which makes the king of the bees, for nature gives him superior size,
beauty, and sweetness of character. He has a sting like the others, but he does not
use it to revenge himself.(3) It is a principle of natural and unwritten law,
that those who are raised to high office, ought to be lenient in punishing.
Even bees who do not follow the example of their king, repent without delay of
their imprudence, since they lose their lives with their sting. Listen,
Christians, you to whom it is forbidden to "recompense evil for evil" and commanded "to
overcome evil with good."(1) Take the bee for your model, which constructs its
cells without injuring any one and without interfering with the goods of others.
It gathers openly wax from the flowers with its mouth, drawing in the honey
scattered over them like dew, and injects it into the hollow of its cells. Thus
at first honey is liquid; time thickens it and gives it its sweetness.(2) The
book of Proverbs has given the bee the most honourable and the best praise by
calling her wise and industrious.(3) How much activity she exerts in gathering
this precious nourishment, by which both kings and men of low degree are brought
to health! How great is the art and cunning she displays in the construction of
the store houses which are destined to receive the honey! After having spread
the wax like a thin membrane, she distributes it in contiguous compartments
which, weak though they are, by their number and by their mass, sustain the whole
edifice. Each cell in fact holds to the one next to it, and is separated by a
thin partition; we thus see two or three galleries of cells built one upon the
other. The bee takes care not to make one vast cavity, for fear it might break
trader the weight of the liquid, and allow it to escape. See how the discoveries
of geometry are mere by-works to the wise bee!(4)
The rows of honey-comb are all hexagonal with equal sides. They do not
bear on each other in straight lines, lest the supports should press on empty
spaces between and give way; but the angles of the lower hexagons serve as
foundations and bases to those which rise above, so as to furnish a sure support to the
lower mass, and so that each cell may securely keep the liquid honey.(5)
5. How shall we make an exact review of all the peculiarities of the life
of birds? During the night cranes keep watch in turn; some sleep, others make
the rounds and procure a quiet slumber for their companions. After having
finished his duty, the sentry utters a cry, and goes to sleep, and the one who
awakes, in his turn, repays the security which he has enjoyed.(1) You will see the
same order reign in their flight. One leads the way, and when it has guided the
flight of the flock for a certain time, it passes to the rear, leaving to the
one who comes after the care of directing the march.
The conduct of storks comes very near intelligent reason. In these regions
the same season sees them all migrate. They all start at one given signal. And
it seems to me that our crows, serving them as escort. go to bring them back,
and to help them against the attacks of hostile birds. The proof is that in
this season not a single crow appears, and that they return with wounds, evident
marks of the help and of the assistance that they have lent. Who has explained
to them the laws of hospitality? Who has threatened them with the penalties of
desertion? For not one is missing from the company. Listen, all inhospitable
hearts, ye who shut your doors, whose house is never open either in the winter or
in the night to travellers. The solicitude of storks for their old would be
sufficient, if our children would reflect upon it, to make them love their
parents; because there is no one so failing in good sense, as not to deem it a shame
to be surpassed in virtue by birds devoid of reason. The storks surround their
father, when old age makes his feathers drop off, warm him with their wings, and
provide abundantly for his support, and even in their flight they help him as
much as they are able, raising him gently on each side upon their wings, a
conduct so notorious that it has given to gratitude the name of
"antipelargosis."(2) Let no one lament poverty; let not the man whose house is bare despair of his
life, when he considers the industry of the swallow. To build her nest, she
brings bits of straw in her beak; and, as she cannot raise the mud in her claws,
she moistens the end of her wings in water and then rolls in very fine dust and
thus procures mud.(1) After having united, little by little, the bits of straw
with this mud, as with glue, she feeds her young; and if any one of them has
its eyes injured, she has a natural remedy to heal the sight of her little
ones.(2)
This sight ought to warn you not to take to evil ways on account of
poverty; and, even if you are reduced to the last extremity, not to lose all hope;
not to abandon yourself to inaction and idleness, but to have recourse to God. If
He is so bountiful to the swallow, what will He not do for those who call upon
Him with all their heart?
The halcyon is a sea bird, which lays its eggs along the shore, or
deposits them in the sand. And it lays in the middle of winter, when the violence of
the winds dashes the sea against the land. Yet all winds are hushed, and the
wave of the sea grows calm, during the seven days that the halcyon sits.(3)
For it only takes seven days to hatch the young. Then, as they are in need
of food so that they may grow, God, in His munificence, grants another seven
days to this tiny animal. All sailors know this, and call these days halcyon
days. If divine Providence has established these marvellous laws in favour of
creatures devoid of reason, it is to induce you to ask for your salvation from God.
Is there a wonder which He will not perform for you--you have been made in His
image, when for so little a bird, the great, the fearful sea is held in check
and is commanded in the midst of winter to be calm.
6. It is said that the turtle-dove, once separated from her mate, does not
contract a new union, but remains in widowhood, in remembrance of her first
alliance.(4) Listen, O women! What veneration for widowhood, even in these
creatures devoid of reason, how they prefer it to an unbecoming multiplicity of
marriages. The eagle shows the greatest injustice in the education which she gives
to her young. When she has hatched two little ones, she throws one on the
ground, thrusting it out with blows from her wings, and only acknowledges the
remaining one. It is the difficulty of finding food which has made her repulse the
offspring she has brought forth. But the osprey, it is said, will not allow it to
perish, she carries it away and brings it up with her young ones.(1) Such are
parents who, finder the plea of poverty, expose their children such are again
those who, in the distribution of their inheritance, make unequal divisions.
Since they have given existence equally to each of their children, it is just that
they should equally and without preference furnish them with the means of
livelihood. Beware of imitating the cruelty of birds with hooked talons. When they
see their young are from henceforth capable of encountering the air in their
flight, they throw them out of the nest, striking them and pushing them with their
wings, and do not take the least care of them. The love of the crow for its
young is laudable! When they begin to fly, she follows them, gives them food, and
for a very long time provides for their nourishment. Many birds have no need
of union with males to conceive. But their eggs are unfruitful, except those of
vultures, who more often, it is said, bring forth without coupling:(2) and this
although they have a very long life, which often reaches its hundredth year.
Note and retain, I pray you, this point in the history of birds; and if ever you
see any one laugh at our mystery, as if it were impossible and contrary to
nature that a virgin should become a mother without losing the purity of her
virginity, bethink you that He who would save the faithful by the foolishness of
preaching, has given us beforehand in nature a thousand reasons for believing in
the marvellous.(3)
7. "Let the waters bring forth the moving creatures that have life, and
fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven." They received
the command to fly above the earth because earth provides them with
nourishment. "In the firmament of heaven," that is to say, as we have said before, in
that part of the air called <greek>ouranos</greek>, heaven,(1) from the word
<greek>oran</greek>, which means to see;(2) called firmament, because the air which
extends over our heads, compared to the aether, has greater density, and is
thickened by the vapours which exhale from the earth. You have then heaven
adorned, earth beautified, the sea peopled with its own creatures, the air filled with
birds which scour it in every direction. Studious listener, think of all these
creations which God has drawn out of nothing, think of all those which my
speech has left out, to avoid tediousness, and not to exceed my limits; recognise
everywhere the wisdom of God; never cease to wonder, and, through, every
creature, to glorify the Creator.
There are some kinds of birds which live by night in the midst of
darkness; others which fly by day in fall light. Bats, owls, night-ravens are birds of
night: if by chance you cannot sleep, reflect on these nocturnal birds and
their peculiarities and glorify their Maker. How is it that the nightingale is
always awake when sitting on her eggs, passing the night in a continual melody?(3)
How is it that one animal, the bat, is at the same time quadruped and fowl?
That it is the only one of the birds to have teeth? That it is viviparous like
quadrupeds, and traverses the air, raising itself not upon wings, but upon a kind
of membrane?(4) What natural love bats have for each other! How they interlace
like a chain and hang the one upon the other! A very rare spectacle among men,
who flit the greater part prefer individual and private life to the union of
common life. Have not those who give themselves up to vain science the eyes of
owls? The sight of the owl, piercing during the night time, is dazzled by the
splendour of the sun; thus the intelligence of these men, so keen to contemplate
vanities, is blind in presence of the true light.
During the day, also, how easy it is for you to admire the Creator
everywhere! See how the domestic cock calls you to work with his shrill cry, and how,
forerunner of the sun, and early as the traveller, he sends forth labourers to
the harvest! What vigilance in geese! With what sagacity they divine secret
dangers! Did they not once upon a time save the imperial city? When enemies were
advancing by subterranean passages to possess themselves of the capitol of Rome,
did not geese announce the danger?(1) Is there any kind of bird whose nature
offers nothing for our admiration? Who announces to the vultures that there will
be carnage when men march in battle array against one another? You may see
flocks of vultures following armies and calculating the result of warlike
preparations;(2) a calculation very nearly approaching to human reasoning. How can I
describe to you the fearful invasions of locusts, which rise everywhere at a
given signal, and pitch their camps all over a country? They do not attack crops
until they have received the divine command. Or shall I describe how the remedy
for this curse, the thrush, follows them with its insatiable appetite, and the
devouring nature that the loving God has given it in His kindness for men?(3)
How does the grasshopper modulate its song?(4) Why is it more melodious at midday
owing to the air that it breathes in dilating its chest?
But it appears to me that in wishing to describe the marvels of winged
creatures, I remain further behind than I should if my feet had tried to match the
rapidity of their flight. When you see bees, wasps, in short all those flying
creatures called insects, because they have an incision all around reflect that
they have neither respiration nor lungs, and that they are supported by air
through all parts of their bodies.(5) Thus they perish. if they are covered with
oil, because it stops up their pores. Wash them with vinegar, the pores reopen
and the animal returns to life. Our God has created nothing unnecessarily and
has omitted nothing that is necessary. If now you cast your eyes upon aquatic
creatures, you will find that their organization is quite different. Their feet
are not split like those of the crow, nor hooked like those of the carnivora,
but large and membraneous; therefore they can easily swim, pushing the water with
the membranes of their feet as with oars. Notice how the swan plunges his neck
into the depths of the water to draw his food from it, and you will understand
the wisdom of the Creator in giving this creature a neck longer than his feet,
so that he may throw it like a line, and take the food hidden at the bottom of
the water.(1)
8. If we simply read the words of Scripture we find only a few short
syllables. "Let the waters bring forth fowl that may fly above the earth in the open
firmament of heaven," but if we enquire into the meaning of these words, then
the great wonder of the wisdom of the Creator appears. What a difference He has
foreseen among winged creatures! How He has divided them by kinds! How He has
characterized each one of them by distinct qualities! But the day will not
suffice me to recount the wonders of the air. Earth is calling me to describe wild
beasts, reptiles and cattle, ready to show us in her turn sights rivalling
those of plants, fish, and birds. "Let the earth bring forth the living soul" of
domestic animals, of wild beasts, and of reptiles after their kind. What have you
to say, you who do not believe in the change that Paul promises you in the
resurrection, when you see so many metamorphoses among creatures of the air? What
are we not told of the horned worm of India! First it changes into a
caterpillar,(2) then becomes a buzzing insect, and not content with this form, it
clothes itself, instead of wings, with loose, broad plates. Thus, O women, when you
are seated busy with your weaving, I mean of the silk which is sent you by the
Chinese to make your delicate dresses,(3) remember the metamorphoses of this
creature, conceive a clear idea of the resurrection, and do not refuse to believe
in the change that Paul announces for all men.
But I am ashamed to see that my discourse oversteps the accustomed limits;
if I consider the abundance of matters on which I have just discoursed to you,
I feel that I am being borne beyond bounds; but when I reflect upon the
inexhaustible wisdom which is displayed in the works of creation, I seem to be but at
the beginning of my story. Nevertheless, I have not detained you so long
without profit. For what would you have done until the evening? You are not pressed
by guests, nor expected at banquets. Let me then employ this bodily fast to
rejoice your souls. You have often served the flesh for pleasure, to-day persevere
in the ministry of the soul. "Delight thyself also in the Lord and he shall
give thee the desire of thine heart."(1) Do you love riches? Here are spiritual
riches. "The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether. More to
be desired are they than gold and precious stones."(2) Do you love enjoyment and
pleasures? Behold the oracles of the Lord, which, for a healthy soul, are
"sweeter than honey and the honey-comb."(3) If I let you go, and if I dismiss this
assembly, some will run to the dice, where they will find bad. language, sad
quarrels and the pangs of avarice. There stands the devil, inflaming the fury of
the players with the dotted bones,(4) transporting the same sums of money from
one side of the table to the other, now exalting one with victory and throwing
the other into despair, now swelling the first with boasting and covering his
rival with confusion.(5) Of what use is bodily fasting and filling the soul with
innumerable evils? He who does not play spends his leisure elsewhere. What
frivolities come from his mouth I What follies strike his ears Leisure without the
fear of the Lord is, for those who do not know the value of time a school of
vice.(6) I hope that my words will be profitable; at least by occupying you here
they have prevented you from sinning. Thus the longer I keep you, the longer
you are out of the way of evil.
An equitable judge will deem that I have said enough, not if he considers
the riches of creation, but if he thinks of our weakness and of the measure one
ought to keep in that which tends to pleasure. Earth has welcomed you with its
own plants, water with its fish, air with its birds; he continent in its turn
is ready to offer you as rich treasures. But let us put an end to this morning
banquet, for fear satiety may blunt your taste for the evening one. May He who
has filled all with the works of His creation and has left everywhere visible
memorials of His wonders, fill your hearts with all spiritual joys in Jesus
Christ, our Lord, to whom belong glory and power, world without end. Amen.
HOMILY IX.
The creation of terrestrial animals.
1. How did you like the fare of my morning's discourse? It seemed to me
that I had the good intentions of a poor giver of a feast, who, ambitious of
having the credit of keeping a good table saddens his guests by the poor supply of
the more expensive dishes. In vain he lavishly covers his table with his mean
fare; his ambition only shows his folly. It is for you to judge if I have shared
the same fate. Yet, whatever my discourse may have been, take care lest you
disregard it. No one refused to sit at the table of Elisha; and yet he only gave
his friends wild vegetables.(1) I know the laws of allegory, though less by
myself than from the works of others. There are those truly, who do not admit the
common sense of the Scriptures, for whom water is not water, but some other
nature, who see in a plant, in a fish, what their fancy wishes, who change the
nature of reptiles and of wild beasts to suit their allegories, like the
interpreters of dreams who explain visions in sleep to snake them serve their own ends.
For me grass is grass; plant, fish, wild beast, domestic animal, I take all in
the literal sense.(2) "For I am not ashamed of the gospel."(3) Those who have
written about the nature of the universe have discussed at length the shape of
the earth. If it be spherical or cylindrical, if it resemble a disc and is
equally rounded in all parts, or if it has the forth of a winnowing basket and is
hollow in the middle;(4) all these conjectures have been suggested by
cosmographers, each one upsetting that of his predecessor. It will not lead me to give
less importance to the creation of the universe, that the servant of God, Moses,
is silent as to shapes; he has not said that the earth is a hundred and eighty
thousand furlongs in circumference; he has not measured into what extent of air
its shadow projects itself whilst the sun revolves around it, nor stated how
this shadow, casting itself upon the moon, produces eclipses. He has passed over
in silence, as useless, all that is unimportant for us. Shall I then prefer
foolish wisdom to the oracles of the Holy Spirit? Shall I not rather exalt Him
who, not wishing to fill our minds with these vanities, has regulated all the
economy of Scripture in view of the edification and the making perfect of our
souls? It is this which those seem to me not to have understood, who, giving
themselves up to the distorted meaning of allegory, have undertaken to give a majesty
of their own invention to Scripture. It is to believe themselves wiser than the
Holy Spirit, and to bring forth their own ideas under a pretext of exegesis.
Let us hear Scripture as it has been written.
2. "Let the earth bring forth thee living creature."(1) Behold the word of
God pervading creation, beginning even then the efficacy which is seen
displayed to-day, and will be displayed to the end of the world! As a ball, which one
pushes, if it meet a declivity, descends, carried by its form and the nature of
the ground and does not stop until it has reached a level surface; so nature,
once put in motion by the Divine command, traverses creation with an equal
step, through birth and death, and keeps up the succession of kinds through
resemblance, to the last.(2) Nature always makes a horse succeed to a horse, a lion
to a lion, an eagle to an eagle, and preserving each animal by these
uninterrupted successions she transmits it to the end of all things. Animals do not see
their peculiarities destroyed or effaced by any length of time; their nature, as
though it had been just constituted, follows the course of ages, for ever
young.(3) "Let the earth bring forth the living creature." This command has
continued and earth does not cease to obey the Creator. For, if there are creatures
which are successively produced by their predecessors, there are others that even
to-day we see born from the earth itself. In wet weather she brings forth
grasshoppers and an immense number of insects which fly in the air and have no names
because they are so small; she also produces mice and frogs. In the environs
of Thebes in Egypt, after abundant rain in hot weather, the country is covered
with field mice.(1) We see mud alone produce eels; they do not proceed from an
egg, nor in any other manner; it is the earth alone which gives them birth.(2)
Let the earth produce a living creature."
Cattle are terrestrial and bent towards the earth. Man, a celestial
growth, rises superior to them as much by the mould of his bodily conformation as by
the dignity of his soul. What is the form of quadrupeds? Their head is bent
towards the earth and looks towards their belly, and only pursues their belly's
good. Thy head, O man! is turned towards heaven; thy eyes look up.(3) When
therefore thou degradest thyself by the passions of the flesh, slave of thy belly,
and thy lowest parts, thou approachest animals without reason and becomest like
one of them.(4) Thou art called' to more noble cares; "seek those things which
are above where Christ sitteth."(5) Raise thy soul above the earth; draw from
its natural conformation the rule of thy conduct; fix thy conversation in
heaven. Thy true country is the heavenly Jerusalem;(6) thy fellow-citizens and thy
compatriots are "the first-born which are written in heaven."(1)
3. "Let the earth bring forth the living creature. Thus when the soul of
brutes appeared it was not concealed in the earth, but it was born by the
command of God. Brutes have one and the same soul of which the common characteristic
is absence of reason. But each animal is distinguished by peculiar qualities.
The ox is steady, the ass is lazy, the horse has strong passions, the wolf
cannot be tamed, the fox is deceitful, the stag timid, the ant industrious, the dog
grateful and faithful in his friendships. As each animal was created the
distinctive character of his nature appeared in him in due measure; in the lion
spirit, taste for solitary life, an unsociable character. True tyrant of animals,
he, in his natural arrogance, admits but few to share his honours. He disdains
his yesterday's food and never returns to the remains of the prey. Nature has
provided his organs of voice with such great force that often much swifter animals
are caught by his roaring alone. The panther, violent and impetuous in his
leaps, has a body fitted for his activity and lightness, in accord with the
movements of his soul. The bear has a sluggish nature, ways of its own, a sly
character, and is very secret; therefore it has an analogous body, heavy, thick,
without articulations such as are necessary for a cold dweller in dens.
When we consider the natural and innate care that these creatures without
reason take of their lives we shall be induced to watch over ourselves and to
think of the salvation of our souls; or rather we shall be the more condemned
when we are found falling short even of the imitation of brutes. The bear, which
often gets severely wounded, cares for himself and cleverly fills the wounds
with mullein, a plant whose nature is very astringent. You will also see the fox
heal his wounds with droppings from the pine tree; the tortoise, gorged with
the flesh of the viper, finds in the virtue of marjoram a specific against this
venomous animal(1) and the serpent heals sore eyes by eating fennel.(2)
And is not reasoning intelligence eclipsed by animals in their provision
for atmospheric changes? Do we not see sheep, when winter is approaching,
devouring grass with avidity as if to make provision for future scarcity? Do we not
also see oxen, long confined in the winter season, recognise the return of
spring by a natural sensation, and look to the end of their stables towards the
doors, all turning their heads there by common consent? Studious observers have
remarked that the hedgehog makes an opening at the two extremities of his hole.
If the wind from the north is going to blow he shuts up the aperture which looks
towards the north; if the south wind succeeds it the animal passes to the
northern door.(3) What lesson do these animals teach man? They not only show us in
our Creator a care which extends to all beings, but a certain presentiment of
future even in brutes. Then we ought not to attach ourselves to this present
life and ought to give all heed to that which is to come. Will you not be
industrious for yourself, O man? And will you not lay up in the present age rest in
that which is to come, after having seen the example of the ant? The ant during
summer collects treasures for winter. Far from giving itself up to idleness,
before this season has made it feel its severity, it hastens to work with an
invincible zeal until it has abundantly filled its storehouses. Here again, how far
it is from being negligent! With what wise foresight it manages so as to keep
its provisions as long as possible! With its pincers it cuts the grains in half,
for fear lest they should germinate and not serve for its food. If they are
damp it dries them; and it does not spread them out in all weathers, but when it
feels that the air will keep of a mild temperature. Be sure that you will never
see rain fall from the clouds so long as the ant has left the grain out.(1)
What language can attain to the marvels of the Creator? What ear could
understand them? And what time would be sufficient to relate them? Let us say,
then, with the prophet, "O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou
made them all."(2) We shall not be able to say in self-justification, that we
have learnt useful knowledge in books, since the untaught law of nature makes us
choose that which is advantageous to us. Do you know what good you ought to do
your neighbour? The good that you expect from him yourself. Do you know what is
evil? That which you would not wish another to do to you. Neither botanical
researches nor the experience of simples have made animals discover those which
are useful to them; but each knows naturally what is salutary and marvellously
appropriates what suits its nature.
4. Virtues exist in us also by nature, and the soul has affinity with them
not by education, but by nature herself. We do not need lessons to hate
illness, but by ourselves we repel what afflicts us, the soul has no need of a master
to teach us to avoid vice. Now all vice is a sickness of the sold as virtue is
its health. Thus those have defined health well who have called it a
regularity in the discharge of natural functions; a definition that can be applied
without fear to the good condition of the soul. Thus, without having need of
lessons, the soul can attain by herself to what is fit and conformable to nature.(3)
Hence it comes that temperance everywhere is praised, justice is in honour,
courage admired, and prudence the object of all aims; virtues which concern the
soul more than health concerns the body. Children love(1) your parents, and you,
"parents provoke not your children to wrath."(2) Does not nature say the same?
Paul teaches us nothing new; he only tightens the links of nature. If the
lioness loves her cubs, if the she wolf fights to defend her little ones, what shall
man say who is unfaithful to the precept and violates nature herself; or the
son who insults the old age of his father; or the father whose second marriage
has made him forget his first children?
With animals invincible affection unites parents with children. It is the
Creator, God Himself, who substitutes the strength of feeling for reason in
them. From whence it comes that a lamb as it bounds from the fold, in the midst of
a thousand sheep recognises the colour and the voice of its mother, runs to
her, and seeks its own sources of milk. If its mother's udders are dry, it is
content, and, without stopping, passes by more abundant ones. And how does the
mother recognise it among the many lambs? All have the same voice, the same
colour, the same smell, as far at least as regards our sense of smell. Yet there is
in these animals a more subtle sense than our perception which makes them
recognise their own.(1) The little dog has as yet no teeth, nevertheless he defends
himself with his mouth against any one who teases him. The calf has as yet no
horns, nevertheless he already knows where his weapons will grow.(2) Here we
have evident proof that the instinct of animals is innate, and that in all beings
there is nothing disorderly, nothing unforeseen. All bear the marks of the
wisdom of the Creator, and show that they have come to life with the means of
assuring their preservation.
The dog is not gifted with a share of reason; but with him instinct has
the power of reason. The dog has learnt by nature the secret of elaborate
inferences, which sages of the world, after long years of study, have hardly been able
to disentangle. When the dog is on the track of game, if he sees it divide in
different directions, he examines these different paths, and speech alone fails
him to announce his reasoning. The creature, he says, is gone here or there or
in another direction. It is neither here nor there; it is therefore in the
third direction. And thus, neglecting the false tracks, he discovers the true one.
What more is done by those who, gravely occupied in demonstrating theories,
trace lines upon the dust and reject two propositions to show that the third is
the true one?(3)
Does not the gratitude of the dog shame all who are ungrateful to their
benefactors? Many are said to have fallen dead by their murdered masters in
lonely places. Others, when a crime has just been committed, have led those who were
searching for the murderers, and have caused the criminals to be brought to
justice. What will those say who, not content with not loving the Master who has
created them and nourished them, have for their friends men whose mouth attacks
the Lord, sitting at the same table with them, and, whilst partaking of their
food, blaspheme Him who has given it to them?
5. But let us return to the spectacle of creation. The easiest animals to
catch are the most productive. It is on account of this that hares and wild
goats produce many little ones, and that wild sheep have twins, for fear lest
these species should disappear, consumed by carnivorous animals. Beasts of prey, on
the contrary, produce only a few and a lioness with difficulty gives birth to
one lion;(1) because, if they say truly, the cub issues from its mother by
tearing her with its claws; and vipers are only born by gnawing through the womb,
inflicting a proper punishment on their mother.(2) Thus in nature all has been
foreseen, all is the object of continual care. If you examine the members even
of animals, you will find that the Creator has given them nothing superfluous,
that He has omitted nothing that is necessary. To carnivorous animals He has
given pointed teeth which their nature requires for their support. Those that are
only half furnished with teeth have received several distinct receptacles for
their food. As it is not broken up enough in the first, they are gifted with the
power of returning it after it has been swallowed, and it does not assimilate
until it has been crushed by rumination. The first, second, third, and fourth
stomachs of ruminating animals do not remain idle; each one of them fulfils a
necessary function.(3) The neck of the camel is long so that it may lower it to
its feet and reach the grass on which it feeds. Bears, lions, tigers, all
animals of this sort, have short necks buried in their shoulders; it is because they
do not live upon grass and have no need to bend down to the earth; they are
carnivorous and eat the animals upon whom they prey.
Why has the elephant a trunk? This enormous creature, the greatest of
terrestrial animals, created for the terror of those who meet it, is naturally huge
and fleshy. If its neck was large and in proportion to its feet it would be
difficult to direct, and would be of such an excessive weight that it would make
it lean towards the earth. As it is, its head is attached to the spine of the
back by short vertebrae and it has its trunk to take the place of a neck, and
with it it picks up its food and draws up its drink. Its feet, without joints,(1)
like united columns, support the weight of its body. If it were supported on
lax and flexible legs, its joints would constantly give way, equally incapable
of supporting its weight, should it wish either to kneel or rise. But it has
under the foot a little ankle joint which takes the place of the leg and knee
joints whose mobility would never have resisted this enormous and swaying mass.
Thus it had need of this nose which nearly touches its feet. Have you seen them in
war marching at the head of the phalanx, like living towers, or breaking the
enemies' battalions like mountains of flesh with their irresistible charge? If
their lower parts were not in accordance with their size they would never have
been able to hold their own. Now we are told that the elephant lives three
hundred years and more,(2) another reason for him to have solid and unjointed feet.
But, as we have said, his trunk, which has the form and the flexibility of a
serpent, takes its food from the earth and raises it up. Thus we are right in
saying that it is impossible to find anything superfluous or wanting in creation.
Well! God has subdued this monstrous animal to us to such a point that he
understands the lessons and endures the blows we give him; a manifest proof that the
Creator has submitted all to our rule, because we have been made in His image.
It is not in great animals only that we see unapproachable wisdom; no less
wonders are seen in the smallest. The high tops of the mountains which, near to
the clouds and continually beaten by the winds, keep up a perpetual winter, do
not arouse more admiration in me than the hollow valleys, which escape the storms
of lofty peaks and preserve a constant mild temperature. In the same way in
the constitution of animals I am not more astonished at the size of the elephant,
than at the mouse, who is feared by the elephant, or at the scorpion's
delicate sting, which has been hollowed like a pipe by the supreme artificer to throw
venom into the wounds it makes. And let nobody accuse the Creator of having
produced venomous animals, destroyers and enemies of our life. Else let them
consider it a crime in the schoolmaster when he disciplines the restlessness of
youth by the use of the rod and whip to maintain order.(3)
6. Beasts bear witness to the faith. Hast thou confidence in the Lord?
"Thou shalt walk upon the asp and the basilisk and thou shalt trample under feet
the lion and the dragon."(1) With faith thou hast the power to walk upon
serpents and scorpions. Do you not see that the viper which attached itself to the
hand of Paul, whilst he gathered sticks, did not injure him, because it found the
saint full of faith? If you have not faith, do not fear beasts so much as your
faithlessness, which renders you susceptible of all corruption. But I see that
for a long time you have been asking me for an account of the creation of man,
and I think I can hear you all cry in your hearts, We are being taught the
nature of our belongings, but we are ignorant of ourselves. Let me then speak of
it, since it is necessary, and let me put an end to my hesitation. In truth the
most difficult of sciences is to know one's self. Not only our eye, from which
nothing outside us escapes, cannot see itself; but our mind, so piercing to
discover the sins of others, is slow to recognise its own faults.(2) Thus my
speech, after eagerly investigating what is external to myself, is slow and
hesitating in exploring my own nature. Yet the beholding of heaven and earth does not
make us know God better than the attentive study of our being does; I am, says
the Prophet, fearfully and wonderfully made;(3) that is to say, in observing
myself I have known Thy infinite wisdom.(4) And God said "Let us make man."(5)
Does not the light of theology shine, in these words, as through windows; and does
not the second Person show Himself in a mystical way, without yet manifesting
Himself until the great day? Where is the Jew who resisted the truth and
pretended that God was speaking to Himself? It is He who spoke, it is said, and it is
He who made. "Let there be light and there was light." But then their words
contain a manifest absurdity. Where is the smith, the carpenter, the shoemaker,
who, without help and alone before the instruments of his trade, would say to
himself; let us make the sword, let us put together the plough, let us make the
boot? Does he not perform the work of his craft in silence? Strange folly, to
say that any one has seated himself to command himself, to watch over himself, to
constrain himself, to hurry himself, with the tones of a master! But the
unhappy creatures are not afraid to calumniate the Lord Himself. What will they not
say with a tongue so well practised in lying? Here, however, words stop their
mouth; "And God said let us make man." Tell me; is there then only one Person?
It is not written "Let man be made," but, "Let us make man." The preaching of
theology remains enveloped in shadow before the appearance of him who was to be
instructed, but, now, the creation of man is expected, that faith unveils
herself and the dogma of truth appears in all its light. "Let us make "O enemy of
Christ, man.O y of hear God speaking to His Co-operator, to Him by Whom also He
made the worlds, Who upholds all things by the word of His power.(1) But He
does not leave the voice of true religion without answer. Thus the Jews, race
hostile to truth, when they find themselves pressed, act like beasts enraged
against man, who roar at the bars of their cage and show the cruelty and the ferocity
of their nature, without being able to assuage their fury. God, they say,
addresses Himself to several persons; it is to the angels before Him that He says,
"Let us make man." Jewish fiction! a fable whose frivolity shows whence it has
come. To reject one person, they admit many. To reject the Son, they raise
servants to the dignity of counsellors; they make of our fellow slaves the agents
in our creation. The perfect man attains the dignity of an angel; but what
creature can be like the Creator? Listen to the continuation. "In our image." What
have you to reply? Is there one image of God and the angels? Father and Son have
by absolute necessity the same form, but the form is here understood as
becomes the divine, not in bodily shape, but in the proper qualities of Godhead. Hear
also, you who belong to the new concision(2) and who, under the appearance of
Christianity, strengthen the error of the Jews.(3) To Whom does He say, "in our
image," to whom if it is not to Him who is "the brightness of His glory and
the express image of His person,"(4) "the image of the invisible God"?(5) It is
then to His living image, to Him Who has said "I and my Father are one,"(6) "He
that hath seen me hath seen the Father,"(7) that God says "Let us make man in
our image." Where is the unlikeness(8) in these Beings who have only one image?
"So God created man,"(9) It is not "They made." Here Scripture avoids the
plurality of the Persons. After having enlightened the Jew, it dissipates the error
of the Gentiles in putting itself under the shelter of unity, to make you
understand that the Son is with the Father, and guarding you from the danger of
polytheism. He created him in the image of God. God still shows us His co-operator,
because He does not say, in His image, but in the image of God.
If God permits, we will say later in what way man was created in the image
of God, and how he shares this resemblance. Today we say but only one word. If
there is one image, from whence comes the intolerable blasphemy of pretending
that the Son is unlike the Father? What ingratitude! You have yourself received
this likeness and you refuse it to your Benefactor! You pretend to keep
personally that which is in you a gift of grace, and you do not wish that the Son
should keep His natural likeness to Him who begat Him.
But evening, which long ago sent the sun to the west, imposes silence upon
me. Here, then, let me be content with what I have said, and put my discourse
to bed. I have told you enough up to this point to excite your zeal; with the
help of the Holy Spirit I will make for you a deeper investigation into the
truths which follow. Retire, then, I beg you, with joy, O Christ-loving
congregation, and, instead of sumptuous dishes of various delicacies, adorn and sanctify
your tables with the remembrance of my words. May the Anomoean be confounded,
the Jew covered with shame, the faithful exultant in the dogmas of truth, and
the Lord glorified, the Lord to Whom be glory and power, world without end. Amen.