Eustathius' Paraphrase of Basil's Hexaemeron

^A to be afflicted with the people of God, rather than to enjoy the temporal fruit of sin. He obtained the love of justice from his very nature, for, before he accepted his leadership of the people, he seems, on account of his natural hatred of wickedness, to have pursued the impious even to death. From these he was driven away, though he had been their benefactor; and most willingly, having left behind the tumults of Egypt, he set out for Ethiopia, and there, free of other business, for forty years he gave himself to the contemplation of things, and in his eightieth year he saw God, as it was possible for a human to see Him—nay, as it was permitted to no one else, according to the testimony of God Himself: "If there shall be a prophet among you to the Lord, I will be known to him through a vision, and I will speak in a dream; but not so my servant Moses, who is faithful in all my house. Mouth to mouth I will speak to him: in manifestation, and not by darkly (Num. XII, 6-8)." Therefore, this man, who in the enjoyment of the presence of God ^B had been made equal to the angels, discourses to us of those things which he heard from God. Let us therefore listen to the truth of his words, not in the persuasion of human wisdom, but in the most approved discourses of spiritual doctrine, the end of which is not the praise of those who hear, but the salvation of those who learn.

1. My speech is held back by the astonishment of my mind, thinking what I should say first, or from where I should take the starting point of my narrative. Should I expose the vanity of these worldly philosophers, or should I rather preach our own truth? The philosophers of the Greeks have disputed much about the nature of things, but among them no discourse is held to be fixed and stable, with the former having always been cast down by the latter. And it is no work of profit for us to refute what is theirs, since they suffice to destroy themselves. For those who could not know God, in no way allowed that wisdom presided over the affairs of mortals, but, having stumbled in familiar ignorance, they concluded everything with various definitions. Therefore, many of them have reduced themselves to a confused and formless matter, assigning the elements of the world as the causes ^C of all things. Others have handed down that atoms, and individual bodies, and tumors, and pathways contain the nature of visible things: at one time as these light and round corpuscles run together, and at another time as they recede from one another and are separated, producing the generation and corruption ^D of bodies, and positioning the complex of atoms as the cause of eternity. Truly they weave a spider’s web, those who describe these things, and who write of such empty and vain principles in the heavens, the earth, and the sea. For they did not know how to say: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." Therefore, they said that all things were driven and carried by chance and fortuity, without governance or rule, deceived by the error of impiety implanted in them. So that we might not suffer this ourselves, the revealer of the fabrication of the world, illuminating our senses with the mention of God right at the first praises of his narrative, said: "In the beginning God created." How good an order! He placed "in the beginning" first, so that some might not think that the world was unbegotten. Then he added "created," so that he might show that the work of the creature is but a tiny part of the power of the Creator. For just as a potter, with deformed vessels, can lose neither his art nor his virtue, so the Creator of all things, God, possessing a power sufficient not for one creation only, but ^D altogether exceeding in infinity, by the sole moment of His own will, built the magnitude of those things which are seen. But if the world has a beginning and was created, seek who gave it a beginning, and who is its fabricator. So that you might not, perhaps, by human thought discussing this, stray from the path of truth, He anticipates us, instructing us with doctrines, and fixing in our minds, as a seal of some guardianship, He soon inserted the venerable name of God, saying: "In the beginning God created." Therefore, that blessed nature, and opulent goodness, and most beloved beauty to all who have reason, the prince of all things that are, the fountain of life,

the intelligible Light

3. Do not therefore think, O man, that [the world] is unbegotten; nor, because those things which move in the heavens run around you, nor because the beginning of the circle itself is not found comprehensible to our sense, can you believe that the nature of mutable bodies is without a beginning. For neither because this orb, that is, this flat and round schema, which is contained under one point, has escaped our intellect, nor because we cannot find whence it began or whither it returned, should we for this reason assert that it is not composed, or that it should be believed to be without a beginning because it eludes our senses.

^A Since you yourself see that those things which are to be rolled around in a circle are not borne along by themselves, and that the flatness of their path is not intercepted by any intervening obstacles, do not on that account be deceived into thinking the world is without beginning or end. For the form of it passes away (1 Cor. vii, 31); and heaven and earth shall pass away (Matt. xxiv, 31). The proclamation, however, concerning the consummation of the ages and the reformation of the world—in accordance with the notation of spiritual instruction—is declared by those things which have been briefly handed down in the present. *In the beginning God created heaven and earth.* Everything that has begun in time must of necessity be terminated in time. If there is a temporal beginning, do not doubt concerning the end. Consider the disciplines of geometry and arithmetic, and fictitious writings, and fabulous astrology—that is, the most busy vanity. Toward what end, then, should it be concluded, when those who have occupied themselves in the investigation of the aforementioned matters declare this visible world to be coeternal with God, the Creator of all things, referring this circumscribed orb—which has a composite body, and is a nature that is incomprehensible and invisible—to His glory? For they were not able even to perceive this: that since the individual members of it are subject to dissolution and corruption, it is necessary that the whole body of it should perish by the same circumstances. But they have vanished in their thoughts, and their foolish heart was darkened (Rom. i, 21), and professing themselves to be wise, they became fools, to the extent that some of them even dare to affirm that the vault of heaven is eternal with God and is held to be without beginning or end, and that it is the author and dispenser of things instituted in parts.

4. Concerning these men, or when secular wisdom initiates the fear of future condemnation, who, gazing so acutely upon the most vain things, have voluntarily been blinded so as not to conceive of the prudence of truth. Others count the intervals of the stars, and describe those which are always shining in the north, and [tell] how many of those which are moved under the southern axis are suspected by certain men, but are held to be unknown to us. Or [there are those] who divide the northern latitude, and likewise the zodiacal circle, into a thousand spaces, and who subtly observe the courses of the stars, and their occultations, and the principal motions of all things, and after how much time each of the planets is accustomed to complete its own circuit: they have been unable to find any single reason for all of them, so that they might say that God is the Maker of the whole world, ^B and that He will render to each a reward worthy of judgment for his deeds. They have not taken up a proper thought concerning the end of all things, in view of future examination: considering that it is necessary that the world also be reformed, if the state of souls is to be transferred to another form of life. For just as the present life has a nature akin to this world, so also the future conversation of souls is to assume a habit familiar to its own species. But they are so far from believing that these things are true, that they laugh at us everywhere when we preach the consummation of this world and the reformation of the age. Truly, since the first principles of all things are naturally [fixed], for that reason, while discussing those things which began in time, the writer prefaced this utterance, saying: *In the beginning God created.*

5. For there was a certain substance,

The Invisibles

^A fixed. Equal, therefore, were the bodies of living things and of plants, as it were by the force of some earthly necessity relegated and subjected to that motion which leads to growth and decay, and contained by the nature of time, possessing a kindred property with mutable things. Hence, the narrator has consequently begun, clearly instructing us concerning the construction of the world, that [In the beginning God made]. But the beginning is that which pertains to time, not that which looks to antiquity, which is anterior to all things. Therefore, he did not say [In the beginning God made] in accordance with that, but after those invisible and intelligible things, he narrates the beginning of the generation of those things that are seen and comprehended by the sense. Indeed, it is called a beginning, and the first motion: just as the beginning of a right journey is to do just things [(Prov. xvi, 5)]. For by just works we are incited to live blessedly. A beginning is also said of that thing which is made from some subsistent matter, as the foundation in houses, the keel in ships, and according to what has been said: [The beginning of wisdom is the fear of the Lord (Prov. 1, 7)]. For religion, ever with fear, is set forth as a kind of bulwark and support for the firmness of faith. But also the first part of constructible works is called a beginning: as the wisdom of Beselehel regarding the adornment of the tabernacle. The beginning of acts, too, is often the good outcome of what has been undertaken: as in the bounty of mercy follows the prosperity of God, and in the operation of virtues, that end is held which is placed in the promises.

6. Therefore, having named the beginning, consider that the voice is not accommodated to all meanings. For from that time when the institution of the world began, it is possible for you to say, if, by retracing from the present to the past, you inquire into the principal day of mundane creation: whence the first motion came to time. Then, because as a seat and certain barriers, the heaven and earth were founded; and because there is an artificer, the Word, who accomplished the decoration of all things that are seen, as the voice of the mentioned beginning shows; and because the world was not formed without reason, or in vain. Seeing that it was to provide a useful and necessary outcome to things, if indeed it provides, as we have said, the magisterium of rational spirits and the erudition of divine knowledge, through these visible and sensible things to our mind, guiding us, so to speak, by the hand, that we may more easily contemplate the invisible, as the Apostle says: For his invisible things, from the creation of the world, are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made (Rom. 1, 20). Perhaps, however, on account of the swiftness of the creature, which is constructed without any moment of time, it is said: [In the beginning he made]; because the beginning is a certain indivisible and indistinct thing. For just as the beginning of a road is not yet the road, and the beginning of a house is not yet a house: so the beginning of time is not yet a full time; but not even a small part of time. But if someone should perchance say, in contradiction, that the beginning is time, let him know that this would be to divide it into multiple portions, that is, into the first, middle, and extreme. But to seek a beginning of a beginning is entirely ridiculous and inept. And he who divides a beginning will necessarily make two parts instead of one, or rather, more; ^B because that which has been divided is without doubt cleft into two portions. Therefore, so that we might be taught that the world subsisted together with the will of God without time, he said: [In the beginning he made]. Which matter certain interpreters, explaining more clearly, have said: God made it in summary, that is, briefly and suddenly. Therefore, let it suffice to have discussed thus far the few points out of many concerning the beginning.

7. Indeed, it must be known that of all arts, some are called factitive, others negotiatory, others contemplative; and the end of the contemplative ones is only the intention of the mind, but of the negotiatory ones, the motion of the body itself: which when it has ceased, nothing remains, nor is it shown to those who look on. For there is no end to dancing and singing: but the whole operation is consumed in itself. But in the factitive arts, even if the labor and action have ceased, the work of them is nevertheless manifest, ^C as of smith-craft, architecture, and weaving, and the like, of which even if the artisan should not be present, the reason of the art itself nevertheless appears, and we can, from the work beheld, admire the skill of each artisan. Therefore, so that it might become certain that the world is completed by art, which is held exposed to the sight of all, so that through it the wisdom of its artificer might be known: Moses used no other voice, but said: [In the beginning God made]. He did not construct or compose, but made. Although some of those who are forestalled by a vain opinion, saying that the world is sempiternal with God, did not in any way concede that it was made by him, but that it is as a certain shadow of the divine virtue. ^D For they say it was composed spontaneously, and although they acknowledge God to be its author; yet they confess it in such a way as to confirm that it proceeded without his will, as a shadow from a body, or as splendor from light.

^A Wishing therefore to correct an error of this kind, the prophet used this subtlety of words, saying: *In the beginning God made*, that is, he did not provide the cause so that it merely existed, but he made it as a good creator for the useful, as a wise one for the best, as a powerful one for the greatest. For when he says *Because he made*, he undoubtedly declares an artificer who, by the composition of individual members, fashioned a world through all things appropriate and congruent to itself. *In the beginning God made heaven and earth.* 708 Therefore, from two total elements, he designates the substance of all things as having been constructed: on the one hand, conferring more dignified privileges upon heaven, while placing the earth in the second rank of creatures; and if anything else is intermediate, it is made perfect together with these principal elements. Thus, although nothing may have been said about air, fire, or water, it is necessary by one’s own prudence to understand it. First, because all things are mixed in all things. For it is most certain that water, air, and fire cohere with earth: for fire is wont to be struck from both iron and stones by friction, things which indeed are born from the earth. And it is wonderful how, while the flame is hidden in the aforementioned, it is held harmless to the bodies, but when it has been elicited externally, it devours the matter in which it had been kept. Diggers of wells also indicate that the nature of waters underlies the earth: we can discern from this that air is also mixed with them, because when the earth has been moistened and has received the warmth of the sun, it soon exhales large vapors. Then, if heaven has naturally obtained the higher seat, while the earth is held lower, it is because those things which are lighter are carried to heaven, whereas those which are heavy are borne down to the earth. Moreover, the infernal and the supernal are opposites to one another. What must be said, except that he who joined the most disjointed things by the association of his command also dispensed by his own will even those things which the space in the middle of either element embraces? Therefore, do not seek a reason for individual things, but you must also note those things which Scripture passed over in silence from these things which have been related.

8. *In the beginning God made heaven and earth.* Therefore, earthly substance and the inquiry into individual things which are exposed to our senses make so long an account of the narration that many more words must be discoursed upon in an examination of this kind than in all other things that are possible to explain. Concerning which matter, no utility whatsoever for building up the Church is conferred, but regarding the nature of heaven, let us be content with those things which Isaiah related, who, having used simple words, provided for us a sufficient understanding saying: *Who made firm the heaven as smoke* (Isai. LI, 6), that is, ^B who by no means substituted a strong and thick nature in the position of heaven. Enough also has been said by him concerning its schema, with the glorification of God. *Who established heaven as a canopy* (Isai. XL, 22)? We persuade you that the same thing should be felt about the earth: namely, by no means investigating what its substance is, nor by searching and scrutinizing with thoughts what may underlie it, nor by examining a nature empty of qualities and formless, but it is sufficient for us to know that all things which we see regarding the earth were ordered for this one purpose, that by these things substance might be completed. Therefore, you will arrive at no end if you attempt to pursue its individual qualities in speech. For if you were to distinguish its blackness, ^C frigidity, gravity, density, and those qualities which are held to be comprehensible by the flavor of taste, there will be nothing at all that underlies the earth. Forfeiting these things, therefore, neither do we encourage one to inquire upon what the earth is made firm. For the mind will be tortured in the inquiry of speculation, arriving at no certain outcome. For whether you say that air underlies its foundation; you will surely fail in thinking, just as a liquid and diffuse nature, pressed down by such a weight, remains and does not rather glide away: escaping the density of the earth on all sides, and always standing higher along with the pressing weight. But if you were to posit that the earth is subject to terrestrial stability, it is nonetheless necessary to ask how a mass so heavy and dense is not at all submerged under the water, but is sustained by a weaker nature, by the super-position of such great weight. For if the foundations of the water itself must also be sought, one must fail again when you wish to find by what resisting support the lowest bottom is contained.

9. But if you were to introduce some other, stronger body that might prevent the earth from descending to the depths, you must think that it itself is also founded by a similar barrier, which does not allow the things that are carried to fall below. To this also, if we can oppose anything by concocting [hypotheses], the mind must necessarily go on to another underlying support, and thus we will be led in our thinking to infinity, always seeking other new things after the firmaments that are found. And the further we progress in speech, the more we shall be compelled to super-induce a sustaining power for the earth: which at the same time is able to sustain all things that are laid upon it. Therefore, you must impose limits on your investigation: lest at some time, by your curiosity, while handling things too incomprehensible, the word of Job may seem to stand in the way, and you be asked *upon what its circles are fixed* (Job XXXVIII, 6). But even if you ever hear in the psalm: *I established its columns* (Psal. LXXIV, 4), [it refers] surely to the compositional power of it, [for] the columns ^D of any place are ruined by the change of a single letter. Basil, *do not be worn down by calculations*. Subsequently the same codex, *by which the substance of things*.

^A understood. For the dignity of the greatest things is not diminished if we uncover the reason for them, or if, should it happen otherwise, I persuade you that the simplicity of faith is to be preferred to all other proofs.

Now concerning what was said: *He founded it upon the seas* (Ps. XXIII, 2), what else does it signify than that the nature of water, poured round about, encompasses the globe of the earth on all sides? How then, since water is fluid and always used to seek lower ground, is it suspended, and why does it not spread out to either side? Neither do you reflect that the earth itself brings us not a lesser, but even a greater difficulty, since it is held balanced in the air by such great weight. But it is necessary, whether you concede that it is positioned upon itself or that we have said it is carried upon the waters, that we should never depart from the thought of piety, but confess that all things are contained by the power of the Creator. It is necessary, therefore, that we both persuade ourselves of these things and respond to those who ask where the ample and insupportable gravity of the earth is made firm, saying: *That the ends of the earth are in the hand of God* (Ps. XCIV, 4). This nonetheless will be found more convenient for our own belief or more useful for those who listen.

11. Nor will you err if you say the same about the heavens, although the long-winded debate of the philosophers ^C has discoursed at great length about the nature of the heaven. Some of them assert that it is composed of four elements, and that it is invisible, and possesses a portion of the earth on account of its inherent hardness, and also possesses an association with fire, from which it is thought to be almost transparent, yet it none the less embraces the admixtures of the other portions. Others, however, holding an opinion of this kind in contempt, have added a certain fifth nature to the composition of the heaven by their own private judgment: to whom it seems ^D that an ethereal body is not air, not earth, not water, nor fire, nor anything else whatsoever that is believed to be simple, for the reason, namely, that it is characteristic of simple things to have a movement that is always direct, of which the lighter things always strive upward, but the heavier ones slip downward. But neither the superior nor the inferior part of the earth contains [any] interval, by a rotatory motion, to be altogether either direct or toward the roundness of a circle. But it is necessary that, of those whose natural movements are wont to be changed, their very qualities themselves must also be mutable. It is not possible for us to believe that the heaven was composed even from those principal bodies which are called elements: since those things which are constructed from diverse matter by no means agree with one another, nor can they hold a concordant movement without some force, inasmuch as the individual parts have one impetus after another by nature, and those things which are composite are maintained in continuous motion with excessive labor. For one and the same reason cannot harmonize with ^B things that are mutually dissimilar and repugnant: since those things which are friendly to the lighter elements are judged to be contrary to the heavier ones. For when we hasten to the things above and celestial, we are weighed down by earthly heaviness. But when we are plunged to the lowest depths, we use force against fire, dragging it downward against its nature. Now the distraction of the elements into diverse parts brings about causes of ruin and dissolution. For what is attempted violently against the resistance of nature is quickly dissipated, as the individual parts by which the mass is constructed subsist by returning to their own beginning. On account of the necessities of these opinions, therefore, the sect of the earlier philosophers, those who came after having been cut off, [sought] to subjoin their own assertions.

10. Although some of the students of natural philosophy argue about a certain arrangement whereby the earth remains immovable. For they report that it is situated in the world, and gathered from equal spaces on all sides, and does not have [any point] until the summit toward which it might be able to incline more, and for this reason it always consists within itself, and it is impossible that it should suffer any momentum to turn itself toward another place, because of the equality surrounding it. It does not hold the middle region by accident or of its own accord, nor was it sought by any lot, but was naturally and necessarily decreed for its position. For they say that because the celestial body has taken a further seat in the higher places, whatever weights we judge to descend from the higher places to the lowest are gathered into the middle place; and it is necessary that the whole body be led into those stations toward which the individual parts have collected. And if stones and wood and all earthly things are always driven to the lower places, there will be, without doubt, the proper and convenient position for the earth. But if anything of the lighter things is moved from the middle region, it is most certain that it is carried to the higher places: since it is familiar for the heaviest things always to seek the lowest. But we learn that the lowest is the middle place of the whole world. Therefore do not wonder if the earth nowhere inclines itself, as having obtained the middle seat of all things, in which it is necessary that it always stand, and in no way be moved from its own boundaries against nature. If any of these seem probable to you, it is necessary for you to transfer them to the wisdom of the Creator who arranged these things in this way.

^A And let us contemplate Him from the magnitude of the circumscribed bodies, and measure Him, the infinite and greatest, who transcends every thought of the human heart by the amplitude of His power. For although we do not at all comprehend the nature of the creature, yet that very thing which is faintly submitted to our intellect possesses such wonder that even the swiftest mind seems inferior to those things which are contained in this world. Let us therefore refer the due praise for all things to the Creator more intensely: to whom be glory and honor, now and always, and for ever and ever. Amen.

BOOK SECOND

^B 1. Having run through our earlier discourses, we have found the hidden depth of the intellect to be so profound that we might feel entirely inclined to despair of what follows; for if the entrance to the holy places is of such a kind, and the vestibule of the temple is so seemly and splendid that the elegance of its beauty irradiates the eyes of our mind, what are the holy of holies to be considered? Who, therefore, would dare to meddle with impossibilities, or who will gaze upon ineffable things, of which even the sight is inaccessible and the ratio of the intellect ineffable? Yet, since before a just judge, and for the sake of the study of better things alone, a reward that is not to be despised is appointed for us, let us by no means be weary of exploring. For although we be considered to fall far short of the dignity of such matters, nevertheless, if we follow the intention of Scripture, with the holy Spirit as our advocate, we shall not be judged unacceptable, and by the nod of celestial grace we shall bring some edification to the Church. "The earth, however," He says, "was invisible and unformed." How, therefore, with both elements, that is, heaven and earth, constructed with equal honor, had the heaven indeed been perfected, while the earth was still unformed? Or what at all was the cause, whereby it was less perfected and was not visible? Therefore, the full composition of the earth is its own fecundity, that is, the germination of all plants, and the abundance of fruit-bearing or unfruit-bearing trees, and also the colors and scents of flowers, and other things which, being brought forth shortly after by divine command, adorned the earth. Because none of these existed as yet, the language of Scripture justly named it "unformed." ^C But we shall also rightly say these things concerning the imperfect heaven, because it had not yet taken on its proper adornment, inasmuch as it had not yet been illumined by the splendor of the sun and moon, nor crowned by the choirs of the stars. Thus, you will not seem to deviate from the truth if you also call the heaven "unformed." But the earth, ^D He says, was "invisible" for two reasons: either because the spectator of it, man, had not yet proceeded forth, or because, being hidden under the waters which then remained above it, it was not visible in any way. For the waters had not yet been gathered into their own receptacles, which the Lord later called seas when they were collected into one. Therefore, "invisible" is either that which cannot be comprehended by carnal eyes, like our mind, or that which could indeed be seen by nature, but is hidden on account of an obduced veil of some body, like iron which lies in the deep. By this reasoning, therefore, it is to be thought that the earth was called invisible, inasmuch as it was covered by the surface of the waters. Furthermore, because light had not yet been established, it is no wonder if it were considered invisible, since the air itself, lacking splendor, was dark.

2. But the detractors of the truth, not following the Scriptures, and dragging their interpretation according to their own caprice, say that the matter of things is indicated by words of this kind, which was as it were of an invisible and unformed and shapeless nature, and devoid of all kind and schema, which the Artificer assumed and fashioned according to His wisdom, and thus through it brought about all things which are seen. And if we say that this was unbegotten, without doubt it will be considered to be coequal with God when honor is being rendered, and it will be judged worthy of the same privileges as He. What could be more nefarious and wicked than that a thing of confusion and utterly deformed should be judged to be endowed with the same dignity as God, the wise and powerful and exceedingly good and the Creator of all? Furthermore, if it is so great that it is able to receive all divine instruction, they will nonetheless think its substance to be coequal with the power of God, if indeed the earth is able to measure all of God's wisdom by itself. But if the matter is inferior to divine power, then their discourse will lead into a more atrocious blasphemy.

For, because of their poverty in material, they attempt to assert that God is ineffective and idle in His works, as they have been deceived by that very indigence of human nature which suffers such thoughts.

Indeed, because every art among us is exercised upon some underlying material—as blacksmithing upon iron, carpentry upon wood, and in these there is one thing that underlies it, another the form, and another that which is shaped from the form; for the material is that which is assumed from outside, the form is that which is produced by art, but the perfection is that which is composed of both, that is, of form and material—so they think likewise regarding the divine operation: that the frame (schema) was brought to the world from the wisdom of the Creator, but that the material was subject to the Creator from without; and that thus the whole world was constructed, possessing a substance sought from elsewhere, but having received its frame and figure from the power of God. ^A Hence there is given to them an occasion for denying that God presides over worldly causes, and for claiming that He contributed only a small portion, as it were, like a subscription to the genesis of things; being little able, because of the poverty of their intellect, to look up to the summit of truth. Nor have they considered that in this case, art is known to be applied after the material, for the sake of sustaining life. For wool indeed existed beforehand, but the use of weaving was discovered later, in order that that which had been lacking by nature might be supplemented by art; wood also existed beforehand, which the carpenter's art, subsequently grasping and forming into necessary uses, bestowed upon us providing no small convenience. For it gave the oar to sailors, the winnowing fan to farmers, and the spear to soldiers. God, however, before those things that are seen were made, having grasped all things in His mind and wishing to bring into ^B being those things that were not, considered what the world ought to be, and created the material congruent to its form. And indeed, for the heaven He assigned a nature becoming to it, and for the frame of the earth He provided the due and suitable substance. Fire, water, and air He distinguished as He willed, and reduced to the order which the reason of each demanded. He bound the whole world, although it was unlike itself and composed of diversity, in the inviolable bonds of a certain harmony, and linked it into one society and joint structure, so that even those things which were far apart in position are believed to be yoked together by mutual intermixture. Let them therefore cease from their fabulous— ^C figments, and from the miserable sense of their own thoughts, to handle the virtue of God, which is incomprehensible to the mind and ineffable in human speech.

3. God made heaven and earth, not in part, but the entire heaven and the entire earth, that is, the very substance comprehended together with the form. For God is not a discoverer of frames, but the Creator of all nature. For let them answer us how the operative virtue of God and the passive nature of the material agree together—of which one, regarding what is subject, provided only that which was without figure; the other, possessing the skill of frames, ordered what was offered, so that to each was provided from the other what it lacked; to the Creator, that He might have that in which He could show the knowledge of His art; to the material, that having laid aside its informity, it might take on a beautiful countenance. But enough on these things; let us return to those which we proposed: *The earth was invisible and uncomposed.* When He said: *In the beginning God created heaven and earth,* He kept silent about many things—that is, fire, water, and air—which were indeed produced as certain passions of those primary things; which all, as things that complete the world, ^D passed into being without doubt at the same time. But the historian passed these over deliberately, so that he might sharpen our heart to the industry of seizing upon the small occasions, which causes us, as we think, to investigate what is missing. Therefore, since there had been no mention made of water, that He made it, but He said that the earth was *invisible*, you must reckon with yourself under what covering the earth was veiled so that it did not appear, which neither fire could hide, which is indeed bright rather than dark, nor air could cover, whose nature is certainly transparent—for it makes the forms of all things manifest to those who look clearly. It remains, therefore, that we understand water to have been spread over the surface of the earth; for the nature of liquid had not yet flowed down into its own receptacles. Because of this, therefore, the earth is called not only invisible, but also *uncomposed*. Even now, an abundance of water is a hindrance to the earth, whereby the supply of fruits is not ministered. This, therefore, became the cause that the dry land could neither be seen, nor be considered composed. If indeed there is a composition for the earth, as we have said, of its natural ornament—that is, crops waving on the plain, and greenery-clad meadows, shining with the varied color of flowers, and hills absolute in their own proportions—it ought to have been written, though they confess God as the provider of some subscription, etc.

^A 4. And it is said, "Darkness was upon the face of the deep." Again, other occasions for fables and unspeakable inventions are given to those who distort the words of Scripture to their own liking. For they do not interpret darkness in the way in which it was born, that is, as a certain dim air, or a place obscured by the interposition of some body; but they call it an evil power, or rather, the very malice itself having its principle from itself, an adversary to the goodness of God, and they assert that this is the nature of darkness. For if God is light, they say, without doubt the power that resists Him is darkness according to the nature of perception, not having borrowed its substance from some other thing, but it is malice, the generator of itself, the ruin of souls, the producer of death, contrary to probity, which they contend both to exist and to have been made by God. From this, therefore, what impious and profane dogma is not fashioned? Who, like ravening wolves, tearing asunder the flock of the Lord, deriving their beginning from this word, do not lead simple souls astray? Hence the sect of Marcion and Valentinus, and the execrable sect of the Manichaeans, flowed: which rot who would not be sinning if he called it that of the churches? Why do you withdraw further from the truth, O man, seeking for yourselves causes of perdition, when the discourse is simple and plain to all? "Invisible," he says, "was the earth." Why? Because, clearly, the abyss had been cast over it. But what is the understanding of the abyss? Excessive water having infinite depth. But we know, they say, that many bodies are often seen even through clear water. How then was no part of the earth shown through the waters? Because it lacked light, and the air poured out over the waters was still darkened. For when the rays of the sun have penetrated the water, we often discern the pebbles which are held in the depths; which, indeed, in no way can happen at night. The cause, therefore, for the earth being invisible was the superjection of the waters. For he says the abyss existed, which would retard the sight: and the abyss itself was darkened. Therefore, neither the abyss is a multitude of contrary powers, as some falsely ^B dispute, nor do we say that it is a certain principal and malignant substance, and contrary to goodness. For since two things are set before one another by contrariety, it is necessary that they should be of a mutually pernicious substance and produce everlasting quarrels for themselves; as being bound by mutual contentions of fighting among themselves. If one of these should overcome, the contrary side is without doubt consumed being defeated. But if they wish to always equate malice to goodness, they will subject an incessant conflict and corruption to things, now with the parts overcoming one another, now yielding to themselves. But if they pronounce that malice is overcome by goodness, what reason is there that the nature of malice might not be seen to have perished utterly? But if—which is a sin to say—I wonder how they do not flee, bringing forth such a sacrilegious blasphemy. But we confirm that malice did not receive its principle of birth from God for this reason, because nothing of those things which are contrary to themselves can generate anything dissimilar to itself. For neither has the origin of death proceeded from life, nor is it established that darkness was formed from light, or health from sickness; but in the changes of states, transitions are always made from contraries to contraries. In births, however, one thing after another succeeds not from contraries, but from similar things. Therefore, they say, if darkness is neither creative nor made by God, whence is its origin? For that they are evil, no one of the living dares to deny. What then do we say? That evil is not some living and animate substance, but a certain affection contrary to virtue, and cast down from goodness, and placed in the minds of the most wicked. 5. Therefore, I do not wish to judge it an extraneous evil, nor to think that it possesses a principal nature of wickedness: but let each one recognize himself as the author of his own malice ^C. For of those things which happen to us, some are from nature, that is, old age and lassitude; others happen by chance, that is, fortuitous circumstances, which, for the most part, occurring in affairs alien to themselves, bring us either joy or grief, just as the finding of a hidden treasure occurs to those digging a well; or the arrival of a rabid dog occurs to those going to the forum. But other things are in our power; such as to curb ^D the cravings of pleasures, to temper lusts, to restrain anger.

to avoid an inciter, or to follow after truth, or to hate a lie, to be gentle in character or harsh, humble or haughty. Of which things we are masters, we do not borrow their beginnings from elsewhere. Therefore, acknowledge that what is properly evil takes its origin from the commissions of free will. For if evil were to descend from necessity, the fear of laws would not lie so heavily upon those who sin, nor would judges assign punishments ^A worthy of criminals. Let these things be said by me concerning that which is properly evil. But I do not yet consider sickness, or poverty, or ignominy, and other things that are wont to mortify mortals, to be placed in the part of evils; because their contrary causes are not stationed in the highest seats of goods, of which some are natural, and which for the most part seem to us to occur usefully. Wherefore, ^B suppressing for the present a narration suspected as to its morals, let us rather draw into our minds a consideration of darkness, simply and without any cunning. However, the discourse demands that we know if darkness was co-generated with the world, and if it is to be thought prior to light. But if it is so, why is a worse thing considered older than a better? Although we assert that this darkness also does not consist of its own substance, but is a certain deficiency in the air, produced by the withdrawal of light. And again, it must be asked from what light the place of the world was suddenly deprived. For we think that if there was anything before the institution of this sensible and corruptible world, it was surely in light. For neither the dignity of the angels, nor of all the heavenly hosts, nor if there is anything named, or unapproachable, or any rational virtue, or ministering spirit, could dwell in darkness, but possessed in light and in joy a manner of life suitable to itself. Concerning which matter I think no one will contradict me. Whoever, therefore, waits for that light which is above the heavens in the promises of goods, of which Solomon says: The light of the just is always (Prov. XIII, 9). And the Apostle: Giving thanks to God and the Father, who has made us worthy in the portion of the lot of the saints in light (Col. I, 12). For if the damned are driven away into the outer darkness, those who wait for the remuneration for worthy works shall, without doubt, obtain in that light, which is outside the world, a dwelling place of rest. Therefore, since it is established that the heaven was made by the precept of God and suddenly stretched out, and was rounded about by a sphere, having a thick body, and one so ^C solid that it could separate those things which are held outside from those within; for this reason, he necessarily established the region left behind it as lacking light, insofar as the radiance which shone from above was excluded. For three things must concur at the same time in the making of a shadow: light, a body, and the darkened place. Therefore, it should be known that worldly darkness existed from the shadow of the celestial body. But do you, by a manifest example, note what we say. If, in the meridian hours, you have constructed for yourself a tent out of matter that is too dense and opaque, you will place yourself there in spontaneous darkness. Therefore, imagine that that darkness is also such, not substituted primarily, but having followed the process of another. But they say this darkness is carried over the abyss because the extremity of the air is customarily joined to the species of bodies. But ^D then water was thrown over everything, for which reason it was necessarily related that there was darkness over the abyss.

6. And the Spirit, he says, was carried over the water. Whether he calls the diffusion of this air the spirit, perceive the writer enumerating for you the individual portions of the world; for he says that God made heaven and earth, water and air, this liquid previously diffused; or, what I consider more true, and which has been proven by those who were before us, he calls it the Spirit of God, that is, the holy one. For Scripture reserved this, so that it might competently declare the primary mention of this name: and we ought to believe that no other spirit is spoken of, except the holy one, who is the accomplisher of the blessed and venerable Trinity, and if you take this understanding, you will find that a greater benefit is conferred upon you by turn. How, therefore, was this spirit carried over the waters? I will tell you not my own discourse, but that of a certain man of the Syrian race, who was as far from the wisdom of the world as he was held to be close to true doctrine. For he said that the Syrian voice was more eloquent, and because of the cognation of the Hebrew language, had indulged more in the discourses of the Scriptures. The sense, therefore, of that saying is in this mode: It was carried, he says, the Spirit, that is, it was warming and vivifying the nature of the waters, after the likeness of a brooding hen: infusing vital virtue into those things which were being warmed. The reason, therefore, of this kind, as to what it said was carried, is interpreted thus, that is, it was compelling them to vivify the nature of the waters. From which it was sufficiently evident.

that also that which is very much required by some can be approved: because the Holy Spirit ^A is not lacking in generative power.

7. *And God said, Let there be light.* The first voice of God fashioned the nature of light and dispelled the darkness, and dissolved the sorrow, and suddenly produced every joyous and pleasant appearance. The firmament then appeared, which was meanwhile hidden by the Lord; and its beauty shone forth as clearly as the sight now also testifies. The air, moreover, was illuminated by that light which was mingled with it, and it extended the sharp penetration of its own brightness everywhere throughout all its boundaries. For it was upward, near to the ether and the heavens; but in its breadth it touched the northern as well as the southern, the eastern, and the western parts, since its nature is luminous and transparent, because of which the light passing through it did not sustain any delays or intervals of time. For just as the air soon directs our gaze to the things that are seen without any moment of time; so it poured the access of light, perceived with all speed, through all the ends of its complex whole. The ether also is made more gracefully illuminated, and the waters appear more splendid, not only because they are bathed by the brightness of the light, but also because, gleaming by its reflection, they return a clearer image of the air. Thus, the divine voice established all things, pleasing and honorable. For just as those who make the deep of the sea transparent for themselves with a sprinkling of oil, so the Creator of all things, God, by the breath of His own mouth, suddenly established for the world the pleasantness of light. *Let there be light*, said God: and immediately the commandment was the work, and the nature was made, because nothing more voluptuous for enjoyment could enter the thought of mortals. But also, when we speak of the voice and the sermon or command of God, you must observe that it is not intended by the intention ^B and movement of a body producing a sound, nor is the sermon of God air beaten by a tongue: but [it is] the impulse of His own will, since we judge it more useful for the sake of those who are being taught to represent the command specifically. *And God saw that the light was good.* With what praises, therefore, can we celebrate the light, when it has merited such a testimony of its goodness from the Creator? Divine words allow us to judge our own eyes regarding it, for language does not suffice to explain as much as the sense, forestalling the gaze, attests. For if bodily beauty is formed from members duly composed among themselves, and from the gracefulness of color, how can we explain with full proclamation that the light, whose nature is simple and similar to itself in all things, is good? For thus we also call gold good, not because it is ^C operated upon, but because it bestows upon us much of its own color as a delight. Similarly, even the star which is called Antifer is named the most beautiful of all stars, not because of an exquisite joining of members, which it has none of, but because it bestows a joyous and lively brightness upon our eyes. Such, therefore, is the testimony of God, not only looking to the fact that light is good in itself and pleasant to those who see it, but He also called it good because of the utility that was subsequently bestowed from it upon mortals. *And God separated between the light and the darkness*, that is, the unmixed nature of them, and fashioned them dissimilar to each other by their contrariety; since He both deprived them of each other and distinguished them by long spaces, as it was said: *And God called the light day, and the darkness he called night.*

8. Now indeed it is called the creation of the sun, that is, the air ^D illuminated by the sun, when it stays in the hemisphere which is above the earth; but night is called the shadowing of the earth, which is generated when the sun is set; and at that time, not only by the motion of the body, but by the diffusion of the principal light, now withdrawing itself, now bringing itself back, the day was made according to the divine command, and night followed. *And there was evening, and there was morning, one day.* The naming of evening, therefore, is to be understood commonly. For even as the day begins, and as it verges toward sunset, night is contiguous to it by its proximity: nevertheless, that He might reserve the privileges of the daily birth, He first mentioned evening, saying that night accompanies the day. For before the light was created, night was not held in the world, but darkness. The shadowing of the earth, therefore, which we mentioned above, intervening, was called day [and] night: and it was called by a new name after its generation: *And so there was evening, and there was morning*: He did not say day and night, but evening and morning, so that, evidently, He might attribute the dignity of the name to the better part. For day equally touches both evening and morning, and you will find Scripture everywhere observing this custom in numbering times. For we say that so many days have passed, making no mention of the nights, as the psalm teaches: *The days of our years* (Ps. LXXXIX, 10). And again Jacob: *The days of my life are* short and evil (Gen. XLVII, 9). And elsewhere: *All the days of my life* (Ps. XXII, 6). Therefore, what were then reported for the sake of history, the writer instituted to be valid as laws for the future. *And there was evening, and there was morning, one day.* Why did He not say, *the first*, but *one*? And certainly it would have been more consistent for Him, who was about to speak of the second and the third and the fourth, to call the first day rather than one. But He said this, either to measure the day simultaneously.

with the night, and joining the time of both together, such that twenty-four hours might seem to constitute the space of one day, meaning, of course, for us, that by the naming of the day, the night also must be understood. Wherefore, even if one of these should happen to be made longer by a solstice change, the prefixed time of the hours nevertheless comprises the intervals of both, just as if you were to say that twenty-four hours belong to the measure of one day; or perhaps He said "one" for this reason, because in heaven, the procession and return of the sun ^A is celebrated again within one day according to certain signs. For as often as evening or morning, according to the circuit of the sun, encompasses the orb of the earth, it is accustomed to define its own courses in no more time than the space of one day. Or as a more secret reason hands down, when God was creating the nature of time, and established for it valid measure and certain signs from the intervals of days, and willed that it be numbered by the week, He commanded it always to return into itself, measuring the motion of time, and again ^B commanded the week to be completed in the space of one day, which seven times reflects upon itself. For this is the principle of revolving patterns, that starting from themselves, they are always carried into themselves. Which is also characteristic of the ages, which, by revolving incessantly through their own tracks, perceive no limit in any way. For this reason, He did not name the summit of time the "first," but "one" day, so that from the very naming, an affinity might be preserved for it with the age. For denoting the specimen of simple things, having nothing in common with others, it was appropriately and fittingly named "one." And although ^C Scripture declares to us many ages, saying that there are ages of ages, yet neither the first, nor the second, nor the third age is numbered there. Wherefore, it is granted to understand rather the differences of various acts and not the circuits and successions and ends of ages. For the day, He says, of the Lord is great and bright (Joel II, 11). And elsewhere: Why do you desire the day of the Lord? It has darkness, and not light (Amos V, 18). But He called those darknesses which are assigned to those worthy of them. For the discourse testifies to that unsetting and everlasting day, which the psalm even calls the eighth, inasmuch as it is held to be outside of time. Whether, therefore, you call it a day, or an age, or the seventh, it is drawn from the same understanding, declared singularly and not multiply. And so, that He might direct our thoughts to the future life, not undeservedly did He call the principal day, which is the image of the ages, "one," as being equal to the light. I speak, moreover, of the holy Lord's day, which was glorified by the resurrection of the Savior. And this is what He said: And there was evening, and there was morning, one day. But the narrative of that evening being occupied, the present evening imposes a measure on the course of our disputation. But may the Father of true light, who adorned the day with celestial light and illuminated the night with the rays of fire, who prepared rest for those deserving of the coming age, shine upon your hearts with the recognition of truth, and guard your life undefiled, granting you to walk honestly, so that you may shine as the sun in the brightness of His saints, for my exultation in the day of the Lord, to whom be glory and honor, now and always and for ages of ages. Amen.

BOOK THREE

1. The first works of the day, or rather of the one, for it is not right for us to detract from it the dignity which it merited from the Creator, since it was produced singularly by itself, numbered in no way with the courses of others, ^D since our sermon yesterday discussed all things which were done therein. And dividing these here and there, it provided morning sustenance and evening joy to the souls of the auditors; now, however, we hasten to the miracles of the second day. Remembering this, I do not place what is said in the power of the one reporting, but in the grace of Scripture, which by nature possessing the ease of understanding, inspired its love into those hearts that prefer truth to superfluous persuasion; just as the psalm, demonstrating the sweetness of truth, says thus: Your words are sweet to my throat, above honey to my mouth (Ps. CXVII, 103). Yesterday, therefore, as far as was possible, lingering over the words of the Lord, we filled your senses with delight. And today we hasten and arrive to behold the miracles of the things that follow. Nevertheless, it could by no means escape us that many laborers of their own hands living, stand around us, and warn us to limit the proposed narrative with brevity, lest they be drawn away from their work for too long. To whom I answer this, that a small portion of time lent to God not only does not itself perish, but is repaid by Him with great increases. For all things which occu-

occupy the mind and are the causes of activity, the omnipotent Lord provides, ^A granting to our bodies strength, to our minds joy, and the power to accomplish our tasks, provided that we deem spiritual matters as taking precedence over worldly ones. But if perhaps in this present life we are unable to receive the reward of our good deeds, in the ages to come we shall without a doubt obtain abundant treasures. Therefore, I beseech you to exclude all worldly thoughts from your minds and to offer yourselves entirely to me. For the bodily presence does not capture any advantage when the mind is believed to be absent, occupied with earthly cares. ^B

2. *And God said: Let there be a firmament; and letst it divide between water and water.* Yesterday, indeed, we heard the words of the Lord saying: *Let there be light*; today, *Let there be a firmament*. Yet the present words seem to have something more. For the Word does not remain in a bare commandment, but the reason for which the production of the firmament is sought is more openly declared; that is, that it might divide between water and water. Let us first consider, discussing how God addresses [us], not after our manner—that is, human—as we who first conceive the form of a future thing in our intellect; then, gathering appropriate and familiar meanings for each thing from the subjects, we express them; and after this, manifesting what is thought through the service of vocal functions, through the agitation of the air and the compliance of articulated speech, we make public the sense conceived in the heart. And how is he not to be called insane who asserts that God needs such offices to explain what He thinks? When it is more pious to assert that the divine will, and the prior impulse of His mind, is the Word of God! Scripture portrayed this in a certain manner for this reason: to show that He not only willed the creature to be made, but also accomplished it with something cooperating. For He could have reported [it] as a historian, just as He did from the beginning concerning all things, saying that in the beginning God made heaven, then He made light, and after that the firmament: now, however, He seems to introduce God commanding and speaking, not hindering us by any charm so that we might not be brought, led by traces and indications, to the contemplation of Him who is ineffable. For those things which are sought with labor are perceived joyfully and preserved most diligently. For the acquisition of those things which is easy, the possession is without a doubt tiresome; therefore, having entered upon the path of true reason, to examine ^C as He directs the Only-begotten. And certainly, there was no need for spoken discourse for an incorporeal nature, since the purpose of his thought could not be hidden from a worker, given that the partnership of counsels for them is supplied by power itself. Is voice necessary for hearing, and hearing for voice? Where, however, there is neither air, nor tongue, nor ears, nor sharper touch to carry the repercussed sound to the sense of the head, there the word is not necessary either; but from that, if I may so say, cardinal thought, a participation of will takes place. As therefore we have said before, the schema of such an elocution was assumed prudently and excellently so that our mind might rise to an investigation of Him of whom we speak.

3. In the second place, it must be sought if there is anything else besides that which was created at the beginning—the heaven, [which] was the firmament, which nevertheless is also called heaven itself; or if perhaps there are two heavens, although philosophers disputing about heaven would more tolerably ^D acquiesce to being exposed to having their tongues cut out than to concede that there are two heavens. For they assert one heaven, the nature of which they insist suffers in no way that a second or third be added to it, since, they say, the entire substance of heaven was consumed in the formation of one. For they claim it is a singular, convertible body, and circumscribed by a certain orbit, which, because it reached its completion in the creation of the first heaven, there is nothing left for the composition of a second or third. But saying these things, they opine that a certain matter unbegotten was present to the Creator, weaving together the lies of those who followed from initial fables. But we ask the philosophers of the Greeks not to blame our views before they are able to hold agreement among themselves. For some of them assert that there are infinite heavens and innumerable worlds: whose persuasive profession when the sharper ones had overcome, [collecting them] with certain proofs from the necessity of geometry, they again think to affirm that nature does not allow another heaven besides one to be generated. But then we call them more worthy of laughter, especially because many *are seen* to be made even in water, whence there is no reason to doubt the multitude of heavens, and [that] the vivid creative power of all things sufficed for their construction, whose strength and greatness, if we had contemplated the power of God, we would not judge to differ from the flow of liquid, which when it is poured into empty vessels, sometimes with a certain reflection.

Therefore, their position is utterly ridiculous, concerning the impossibility of the Almighty. ^A We, however, are far from disbelieving the second heaven, since we also profess a third, the sight of which the most blessed Paul was not deprived (II Cor. XII, 2). For the Psalm, in naming the heavens of heavens, brings understanding to us, even if it is beyond that of many. Nor, however, does this question seem more admirable than those seven orbs, according to which the seven stars are harmoniously proclaimed by all to be borne; which they also say are hidden within one another, like jars stacked one upon another, and urge that they, impelled by motions contrary to each other, and tempering the acute with the grave, render a certain concert and sweet melody of harmony. The asserters of this thing, when they are compelled to prove the conviction of their words by the reason of common sense, say this: that because of ancient custom, our ears, being intent upon that resonance which resounded from the first birth, have, through daily use, become dulled in sense, and therefore we are less able to hear the harmony, just as in a smithy, the hearing is blunted by the constant blows of the workers. But, leaving these studied subtleties of the secular writers for them to handle, let us return to the discourse of the Church. It has been said, therefore, by our predecessors, that this is not the creation of the second heaven, but an exposition of the former. For there, Scripture reported the making of heaven and earth piece by piece; here, it has handed down to us a careful reason, by which each element was fashioned. We, however, say that when both the name is different and the use is proper in the second, it is necessary that it be something else than that which was made first, having a more valid nature, which provides the chief utility to all things.

4. ^C And God said: Let there be a firmament, and let it divide between water and water. Therefore, before we touch upon the root of those things that are written, let us attempt to disprove those things which we think are to be objected against us by others. For they ask us, proposing: if the body of the firmament is like a sphere, as vision itself testifies, how could water, which is always flowing and slipping toward the lower parts, stand upon the curvature of the firmament? What do we answer? That it is not the case that, in every way, what seems to us to be something revolving when we look up from inside, is also believed to be formed in the likeness of a sphere from the outside. For we see the marble chambers of baths, fabricated indeed with a semi-round scheme on the inside, in the vaulted roofs ^D of their own having a flat surface. Let them cease, therefore, to generate calumny against us on this account, boasting that water cannot be contained in the higher parts. It remains to be said what the nature of the firmament is, and for the sake of what thing it was established to lie between the waters. It is solemn, therefore, for Scripture, in causes that are excellent in virtue, to bring these things forward, as if it should be said: The Lord is my firmament and my refuge (Ps. XVII, 5). And elsewhere: I have established its pillars (Ps. LXXIV, 4). And: Praise him in the firmament of his power (Ps. CL, 1). And worldly men indeed call a body firm, as if it were condensed; and they relate that this is indicated for the distinction of a mathematical body; for a mathematical body is one thing, and that which subsists by the length of intervals is another—that is, extended in height and breadth. But that which is firm, since it is ^B separated by spaces, also possesses hardness. But Scripture is accustomed to call that body which is very strong and solid a firmament, just as it is also wont more often to call thick and congealed air by the same term, when it says: Who established the thunder (Amos IV, 13). For the hardness of density, because spirit conceived in clouds and violently burst forth effects a thundering sound, it calls the firmation of thundering. Whence we now also think that the transit and lubrication of the waters consist in some very firm nature, and are held content by the barrier of this utterance, since it is believed to have had its birth from the edition of common waters, or at least it is fitting to estimate it as similar to congealed humor: or to some matter of such a kind, that took its origin from the diffusion of liquid, such as the nature of crystal stone, which they report to be generated from the concretion of waters. But the stone that properly possesses clear transparency, and which, when it has been found pure according to its nature, neither defiled by the admixture of any putrefaction, ^D nor fixed at the bottom with any cracks, is held to be like the air in color; but it is not right for us to compare the firmament to any of these. For it is truly of a childish and foolish mind to take such an opinion about celestial things. But neither if all things are in all—that is, fire in earth, air in water, and others in others—nor because of the elements which are subject to our senses is there nothing social held, or through the communion of middle or contrary causes: on account of this must we also think the firmament to be either one of the simples, or that it proceeded from them, being promiscuous, when Scripture manifestly commands us that nothing is contrary to our sense.

And, I beg you, do not let that go undiscussed, that after God commanded, saying: *Let there be a firmament*, the historian not without reason ^A added: *And it was a firmament*. For God had already made the firmament. And again: *God divided.* Let the deaf therefore listen, and let the blind be enlightened to see. For who is so deaf as he who does not hear Scripture crying out so openly? Or who is so blind as he who, though instructed by evident proofs, does not respect the glory of the Only-Begotten? And God said: *Let there be a firmament.* This voice of destination indicates the cause. But that it said: *Because God made the firmament*, is a demonstration of perfection.

5. Let the discourse turn to the remaining matter. *Between water and water*. The diffusion of the waters was infinite, as far as can be understood, washing the earth on all sides, so that it seemed to exceed even the set boundaries of the other elements; ^B for that reason it is said in what follows that the abyss surrounded the earth. But we shall explain the cause of the multitude of waters a little later. Yet none of us, nor even those who are very learned and look most acutely into this corruptible and fleeting nature, will be able by opinion to blame, or to assert that we speak [c] impossibilities or words conglutinated to the narrative by certain fictions; nor will one demand proofs by which we can construct upon what the nature of the waters was founded. For by the same reason by which they argue that the earth, being heavier than the waters, is balanced in the midst of all things, it is necessary that that heavenly water also, because of its natural impetus always tending downwards, and because it is placed with equality on every side, should remain stably above the orb of the lands. Therefore the nature of the waters was too ample, and was not diffused according to the dimension of the earth, but far more largely exceeded its circumference. Thus the most magnificent artificer, looking forward to the future from the beginning, established the utility of subsequent things from the disposition of the prior ones. What cause was there, therefore, that the enormity of water should abound on the earth? Because the nature of fire was necessary for things, not only for the dispensation of earthly things, but also for the perfection of all things. For all things would be most brief and half-full, if there were something lacking to the greatest and principal elements, which indeed are contrary to each other, and ^D we know to be devourers of each other's substance. For fire consumes water when it excels in virtue, but water, when it has abounded, extinguishes fire. It was therefore necessary, that these elements should neither firmly agree with each other, nor by the total failure of either provide a cause for the dissolution of all things, and therefore He deposited a sufficient abundance of moisture for the governing of the world, so that, not exceeding its prescribed limits, it might be able to resist the voracity of fire. For God, who established all things under an ordination of weight and measure, to whom even the drops of rain are numbered, as Job (xxxviii, 27) testifies, knew how long the water ought to remain on the orb of the lands, and how much sustenance it might prepare for the fire. This is the account of the waters according to the creature. But yet, who is held to be so far devoid of living, that he would not have known how necessary the use of fire is to human affairs, except from the tradition of doctrine? For not only those arts which are sustainers of human life require the aid of fire, but also the germination of trees, the maturity of fruits, and the nativity of animals, both terrestrial and marine, would have neither proceeded from a beginning, nor endured into time, if the benefit of heat had been wanting. The abundance of waters was also very necessary, so that fire might incessantly and without intermission draw its food from them.

6. Finally, observe the creature, and you will find the power of heat strongly adhering to all things that arise and pass away. For this reason waters have been most largely infused into the lands, and they are extended further than they appear to be, which also touch the foundation of the earth; whence even a larger supply of flowing water is provided for springs and wells, and the [c] precipitous courses of torrents, so that the moisture might be stored in many and diverse reservoirs, as it were. And so from the parts of the Orient the Indus river proceeds in winter, the most violent of all flowing waters, as those who have described the site of the world's lands have observed. But from the meridian places the Bactrus flows out, and the Choaspis, and the Araxes, from which the Tanais, having broken off, passes into the Maeotic marsh. The Phasis, however, goes out from the Caucasian mountains, and innumerable others, from the [g] northern regions, are carried to the Euxine Pontus. From the summer climates of the Occident, however, comes Tartesos under the Pyrenaean summit, and the Ister, of which one runs down into the outer seas, the other coming... [alt-version omitted]

^A rising from the Rhipaean mountains of inner Scythia, and flowing through Europe, is directed into the Pontus. But what need is there to enumerate those that rise from the Rhipaean mountains of inner Scythia? Among them is the Rhone, which, with many other navigable rivers, passing the Galatians, the Hesperians, and the race of the Celts, and many neighboring nations, is mingled with the Western sea. For of those which descend from the upper south through Ethiopia, that is, (a) Tages, and Nisus, and Cremeas, and the Nile; some flow into our sea, others are rolled down into the nearer Ocean; although the Nile is not to be compared to rivers, since, in the manner of the sea, it is accustomed to inundate the Egyptian land when it spreads out in the summer time. Thus the habitable part of the world is completely filled with waters, no less surrounded by the surges of the sea than irrigated by rivers, on account of the ineffable wisdom of the Creator, who ordered the nature that is resistant to heat so that it might be sufficient. There shall be a time, however, when fire shall scorch all things, as Isaiah testifies, speaking to the Lord God of all: "Who says to the abyss: You shall be destroyed, and I will dry up all your rivers" (Isai. xliv, 27). Despise, therefore, secular wisdom, and receive with us the magisterium of truth, unadorned by the finery of eloquence, but adorned above all by the reason of science.

7. Therefore: "Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide water from water." We have said what the appellation of the firmament signifies: that is, not a hard and solid nature which is supported by some prop and weight. For the earth would have deserved such a name much more properly, but because of the substance of the higher things, which is considered subtle and rare, and perceptible to no sense, He called it the firmament, by comparison with lighter bodies that we can touch neither by sight nor by touch. And at the same time consider a certain place which distinguishes the moisture, whose thinner part He assigned to the higher stations, but the thicker and muddy part He destined for the lower ones, so that the tempering which was made from the beginning might remain, completed by the gradual ^B depletion of the waters. But although you do not disbelieve the amplitude of the liquid, you do not consider the power of fire, which, although it is considered small to the sight, yet is able to expend a multitude of waters. For it always draws the subject waves to itself, in the manner of a medical cupping glass; and it easily consumes them by the example of the light of a lamp, which, licking the oil through the (c) applied wick, soon consumes it. But who would doubt that the ether is fiery and torrid? Which, if it were not curbed by the boundaries set for it by the Creator, would easily consume all things: which fact prevents all the moisture that is inserted into different things from vanishing, consumed by the heat of the sun. For this reason the celestial water was made, collected in a higher place, which [vapors] exhaling from itself, prevent the ethereal heat from burning up all things that are subject to it. For we also see the sun, in summer, suddenly dry up lighter ponds in a very short space of time. Where, then, is that water? Let the cunning ones demonstrate to us—can it be doubtful to anyone that it has vanished, expended by the heat of the sun? They may even say that the sun is not hot; so great a facility in speaking does it provide them. And consider upon what proof they rely, when they contradict things that are most evident. Since, they say, its (d) color is white, and it is not considered red or purple, for this reason they contend that the sun is not igneous. But they allege that the heat proceeds from [(e)] its harsher circumvolution, arguing this, as it were, so as to assert that the sun spends nothing of the moisture. But I, even if the objection is not true, will not refute the discourse, inasmuch as it supports me. For it was said that because of the edacity of fire, a necessity existed for a multitude of waters: there is, however, no difference whether the heat is natural or acquired, provided that it exercises similar effects upon the same matter; that is, whether flames arise when wood is rubbed together, or whether fire, ignited spontaneously, consumes what has been thrown into it; for one and the same result proceeds from both. And certainly we see the moderating wisdom of God, moving the sun from one place to another, so that, not always remaining in the same places, it might not, with the greed of heat, depopulate the adornment of the world. But now He leads it to the southern zone, now to the solstitial signs according to the change of the seasons, and thence He turns it to the northern region, so that, gradually migrating through different places, it might preserve the tempering for the fruits of the earth. Let them see, however, whether they are not proven to contradict themselves, when they confirm that the sea is not increased by the influx of rivers because it is absorbed by the heat of the sun, whence also its water is made salty and bitter, inasmuch as it loses the flavor of its own sweetness by the [(f)] snatching of the heat, and where it carries away the lighter part with itself, the heavier and muddy part, like some dregs, it leaves here. But those who were just now arguing such things about the sea, now, having changed, pronounce that no loss of liquid is made by the sun.

8. "And God called the firmament heaven." Properly, another name would have been more suitable for it. We know, however, that the heaven is very often said to be the thick and dense place of this air which appears openly to our eyes. But that heaven is called from *cernere* (to see), which we gather better from the etymology of the Greeks, whom they call οὐρανόν, ἀπό τοῦ ὁρᾶσθαι, as Scripture says, "the birds of the heaven" (Psal. vii, 9); and elsewhere, "the birds under the firmament of heaven" (Gen. 1, 20). Such is also what is said: "They ascend even to heaven" (Psal. cvi, 26).

THE METAPHRASE OF EUSTATHIUS ON THE HEXAEMERON OF BASIL, BOOK III

^A And Moses, blessing the tribe of Joseph, gives a blessing from the ends of heaven and from the summit of the mountains (Deut. xxxiii, 13), as it is a region of the earth abounding in such supplies of goods. But also in the curses of Israel: "Let the heaven over your head," he says, "be as bronze" (Deut. xxviii, 23), indicating total dryness and the lack of moisture in the air through which the desired fertility is provided for earthly fruits. When, therefore, it is said that dew or rain is sent from heaven, understand them as the waters which were commanded to hold the upper region. For with vapors accumulated on high, and the air condensed by the blasts of the winds, these exhalations, which are subtly inserted into the clouds, are perfected into drops through mutual accretions, and by their own weight they are collided and cast downward. This is the generation of rain; but when the humor has been skimmed off, and repelled by the violence of the winds, it hardens more vehemently with cold, and snow, frozen from the coagulated mists, is carried to the earth. And in general ^B following a rationale of this kind, you may expect the whole nature of waters, just as they are gathered around the air that is above us. Yet let no one, seeking to contribute the simplicity of spiritual discourses to the argumentation of those who dispute about heaven, be led away. For by as much as the beauty of women who live uprightly is preferred to the beauty of a harlot, by so much is our discourse known to be preferred to secular doctrine. For they are accustomed to offer persuasion compelled by words; but we bring forward the truth bare of any intent to deceive. But what need is there for us to stir up a conflict, repelling their falsehoods, when we can compare their scriptures to themselves and, without any labor of our own, await their collision? For they, differing neither in eloquence, nor fewer in number, nor inferior in dignity, fighting against their own adversaries, while they assert that fire entirely scorches and devours all things, they bring in, again from the recurring seeds which the conflagration of fire leaves behind, the causes of regeneration. Whence ^C they also introduce innumerable worlds. 9. But they, private to the truth of both professions, seek from here and there subsidies for their error through lack of resources. Since even concerning these waters which the firmament separated, they throw before us, on the occasion of allegories and a higher sense, certain figures, saying that spiritual and incorporeal virtues ought to be understood ^D instead of water, and that the more worthy virtues have remained on high above the firmament, but that in lower habitations, as being crasser and muddy, they have established the harmful ones. Therefore, they say that those waters which are above the heavens praise the Lord—that is, the best virtues which are worthy, because of the merit of their purity, to celebrate the Creator with fitting praises. But those which are contained below, they affirm to be spirits of wickedness, devolved from natural loftiness into the depth of malice, and that they are called a "sea" because of their turbulence and sedition, and because they are tossed by the tumults of vices through the variety of their purpose, because we are changed assiduously. But we, omitting such discourses as conjectures of dreams and old wives' fables, let us understand water, that it is water, and let us accept the separation of the firmament just as Scripture hands it down. And if at any time the waters are said to offer praise to the common Lord of all, they are not to be esteemed ^B as being of a rational nature on this account. For neither, because "the heavens declare the glory of God" (Ps. xviii, 1), are they animated in all modes, nor is the sensible firmament to be thought a living creature because it announces the workmanship of His hands. And if anyone should say that the heavens ^C are indeed contemplative virtues, and the firmament the creative power of God, such a discourse—even if it is fictitious—we do not admit with disdain, yet we will in no wise allow it to be true. For neither the dew, nor the winter, nor the cold, nor the heat—since they are commanded to praise the Creator of all, as Daniel says (Chap. iii)—are to be understood as being a sensible or invisible nature; but the consideration of them, contemplated prudently by those possessing sense, brings about the glorification of the Creator. For not only the water which is above the heavens, as if excelling the others in honor because of the beauty inherent in it, pays praise to the Lord; but those which are in the earth are also invited to the same, that is, "dragons, and all deeps" (Ps. cxlviii, 7). Thus neither the abyss, which they try to cast into a worse part, ^D

^A nor the fabricators of allegories, is considered refutable by the Psalmist: since it too, according to its own quality, emits hymns 721 to the power of the Creator.

10. *And God saw that it was good*—the firmament. He did not call it good by the judgment of the eyes. For those things which are constituted by God do not afford us corporeal delight, nor is their pleasure such as is perceived to be delightful to mortals; but He called that work good which is weighed by the reason of its own art and intends toward the end of future utility. Deservedly, therefore, did He propose that the reason of things being generated be manifest; and those things which were subsequently effected in parts, running through them with the creative word, He praised as befitting the completion of a world. For the hand and the eye and the other members of a bronze image scattered and cast about seem to no one to be good; but when they are gathered together into their own order and have received the form of a harmonious configuration, they are easily distinguished by any unskilled person. But the Creator of the elements, even before the composition of each, knew the good of every work: and praising each, He directs the thought of His mind to the future outcome of the things being formed. Such, therefore, is God now also, the artificer of singular parts, guarantor and proclaimer; but shortly after, for the whole world alike, when it has been completed, He will bestow [praise] on the one seeking it. But let the morning narrative of the second day now reach its end here, so that we may grant a respite to our studious auditors, that they may take care to confer among themselves on what has been said, and by the benefit of memory, gather everything into their inmost hearts for their own utility, and by the use of assiduous meditation, ruminating the food of doctrine, after a healthy digestion, may they demand the remaining nourishment of the word. But to those who practice the causes of living with their hands, let us grant indulgence in the meantime; so that, with their tasks completed, they may return their spirits, loosened from the bondage of cares, to the evening meals. Meanwhile, may the Lord, who ^B made magnificent things out of nothing and has ordained that these small libations of words be offered by us, grant you the intellect of His truth; so that from visible things you may consider the invisible, and from the magnitude and beauty of the creature ^C your mind may perceive the decent glory of the Creator, so that, both on earth, and in the air, and in heaven, and in the waters, and between day and night, and in all things that are discerned, you may grasp the most certain monuments of the Benefactor. For neither will time be given for sins, nor will a place be left for the enemy to suggest contraries, with the Lord adhering to your senses; to whom be glory and veneration, now and always, and through all ages of ages. Amen.

BOOK FOURTH.

Concerning the gathering of the waters, and the appearance of the dry land, a disputation.

1. There are certain cities whose peoples are occupied with vain spectacles and trivial acts, unaware that the dance, ^D approved by most shameful spectacles, completes a public and common school of vices. Even lyrical songs, the chants of flute-players, and harlot songs, slipping into the hearts of the listeners—what else do they instill but infamy in the spectators who emulate the actors? Some, however, detained by the ferial ardor of the circus, even when dreaming at night, contend for the speed of the horses, now wheeling the chariots, now the charioteers:

^A shifting to other pursuits, they do not cease to revolve their daily preoccupations during the time of slumber. We, however, whom the Lord—who is deemed the greatest and most wonderful artisan of things—has summoned to the demonstration of His works, must not fail in witnessing them, nor become slothful in listening to the words of the Holy Spirit; but, surrounding this noble station of the divine work and pondering the times that have passed, let us contemplate ^C the heaven raised up like a chamber, as the prophet says (Isai. XL, 22), and the earth, indeed, too vast, founded in its own immensity or weight, and the air, diffused and liquid by nature; ministering a suitable and ceaseless nourishment to those who breathe, dividing itself for all that move, and gently yielding through the intercession of its softness; and lastly, the water, established as the nourisher of bodies and too useful to the human race, remaining moderately in the reservoirs assigned to it. That things are so, you will approve from what has been recently read.

2. *And God said: Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together into their congregations, and let the dry land appear. And God called the dry land Earth, and the congregations of waters He called Seas.* How many calumnies will you object to me in these things which follow, demanding how the earth could be held invisible, while color is present, since every color is comprehended by the sense of vision; and perhaps what we have said does not seem sufficient to you; because it is not in relation to its nature, but in relation to us that the earth is said to have been invisible, due to the injection of the waters, ^B which at that time covered all lands. But now listen to how Scripture declares itself: *Let the waters*, it says, *be gathered together, and let the dry land appear.* The veil is drawn back, so that what was not seen in the meantime might become conspicuous. One might also perhaps inquire why the discourse converts to the commandment of the Creator that which is inherent in water by nature, that is, that it should always tend toward lower places. For as long as water is hidden on a plain, it is stable, finding nowhere to decline; but where a descent occurs, the foremost part immediately bursting forth, the remaining multitude follows, hastening and escaping, preceded by the urgent impulse of what is coming; and the flow is seen to be the swifter in proportion to the greater weight of the water that flows together and the deeper the place. If, therefore, such is the nature of the liquid, it would in any case delay the commandment ^D that had ordered the waters to be gathered into one reservoir. For it could, without doubt, by its natural impulse, run down of its own accord into hollow regions before fulfilling the rest: for no place on earth is so level as the site of the waters. Then, they say, when we know that the seas are diverse, which are certainly known to be far distant from one another? To that, therefore, which was first asked, we will answer this: because you indeed learned of the movement of the liquid after the issuance of the divine precept, and that it is held to be circumfluent and always flowing. For before it received its motion from the celestial authority, you neither saw it, nor learned of it from another who had seen it: whereupon you must note that the voice of God is the creator of nature, and the commandment that was then given to the creature provided the disposition for all things that were to be brought forth. For both day and night were made once, and from that time even until now, by succeeding one another in their turns, they guard the times of their circuits divided into fixed portions.

3. *Let the waters be gathered.* The nature of the waters was ordered to flow, and it never fails in obeying the mandates. But I say this looking toward the liquid lot of the waters, of which some are always flowing as fountains and rivers, while others are gathered and standing. But for me now, the account is about those that flow. *Let the waters be gathered into one congregation.* If ever, standing by a river, the thought comes to you, pondering by what impulse the water moves from the earth, or what the storehouses are from which it is poured forth so lavishly, or what the place is to which it is destined to arrive, or how it comes about that neither does that which follows fail, nor does that which preceded overflow; surely you will discover that all these things are held by the first voice, whence also that perpetual flow is provided for them. Wherefore, in every history, always remember the first commandment, which says: *Let the waters be gathered.* For it was necessary that they should flow hastily, so that they might arrive at their proper region: and after they had arrived, to stand in the assigned reservoirs, and to proceed no further. Therefore it is said by Ecclesiastes: *Into the sea the rivers flow, but the sea is not filled* (Eccle. I, 7). Because both the fact that the course of the waters is urged on, and that the sea is held restrained within fixed boundaries, is the virtue of the primary commandment: *Let the waters be gathered into one congregation:* so that, clearly, that which flows in, having filled the reservoirs, would not, by overflowing, inundate all the boundaries of the lands alike; for that reason it was ordered to draw itself into one congregation. Therefore, the sea, often troubled by the winds and surging with waves, and rising to the deep, where it touches the nearby shores, dissolving the force of its heat with foaming, is soon broken and subsides. *Or will you not fear Me, says the Lord, who place the sand as a limit to the sea* (Jer. V, 22)? For it is wonderful how the sand, which is the weakest of all things that are on the earth, by the command of God, curbs the violence of the sea. For if it were otherwise, what reason could prevent the Red Sea—

which is acknowledged to be lower, from invading all of Egypt and mingling with the neighboring sea, were it not restrained by the command of the Creator? For that Egypt is lower than the Red Sea, we are most certainly taught by those who sought to join the Egyptian and Indian seas, the first of whom was Sesostris the Egyptian, and the second, Darius the Mede. I have said this so that we might realize the power of the divine ordinance. ^A

Let the waters be gathered together into one congregation

4. Next, as to what it implies saying: *Let them be gathered into one congregation*, it taught that there were many waters divided in various ways. For valley-like places, naturally hollowed out in deeper spaces, had water collected in them; and there were also many plains that resembled a sea, and other regions of this kind, all of which were ordered to flow into one congregation. And let no one say: if the multitude of waters had covered the whole earth, then even those places into which the waters were later commanded to flow were filled at that time. Where, then, should the water have collected, which had invaded all parts of the earth? To this we reply that when the ordinance was given that they should assemble into one congregation, then the cause of their reception also proceeded. For at that time there was no sea beyond the Pillars of Hercules, nor was that great and, to the daring alone, navigable ocean ^B that washes the British island and the western lands held to exist, but later, by the command of God, sufficient capacity was prepared so that the multitude of waters might flow there. Concerning this matter, since the discourse of our purification seems to conflict with the philosophers who say that the water was not, as we have experienced, collected into one congregation, we could indeed say many things well known to all: but lest it seem ridiculous to contend with such men, although they ought also to object to us regarding marshes and ponds, and also those waters that are gathered from rains, so as to infringe upon the assertion of our discourse by these means, let them nevertheless know that God called the greatest and most perfect meeting of all waters a "congregation." For even a well is a man-made collection of water, as the liquid has fallen into a deep excavation. Therefore, not just any receptacles of waters manifest the name of that congregation, but that greatest and most excellent receiving place into which ^C the whole element was suddenly brought. For just as fire is dispersed in small and various materials, providing a necessary use to all, yet is contained in its entirety in the ether, and similarly, air, although it slips into individual bodies, nevertheless embraces the whole orb of the earth; so also, the nature of waters, although it is entrusted to various stations, is yet one supreme congregation, which distinguishes that whole element from the rest. For the lakes that are held to be around the northern regions, or in the Hellespont, or in Macedonia, or in Bithynia, are without doubt called congregations; but just now mention is made to us of that one which is so much more extensive than all the rest that it is equal to the breadth of the lands, and although in the lesser congregations of waters, also, no one denies that there is ^D a multitude, yet no one will rightly call them seas: although certain marshes are infected with the saltiness of the sea, such as that which is called the Asphaltite in the parts of Judaea, or the Serbonitis, which, lying between Egypt and Palestine, touches the deserts of Arabia. All these are indeed marshes, yet there is held to be one sea, as those who have traveled over all the lands assert. But some pronounce the Hyrcanian and Caspian lake to be enclosed within themselves. And indeed, since it behooves us to look more diligently into the cosmography of historians, let us hear what has been related about these. They report, therefore, that the aforementioned lakes, being perforated by certain hidden caverns, pour their channels into the greatest sea; from whence it is also affirmed that the Red Sea flows into the sea that is held to be beyond the Pillars of Hercules. How, then, they ask, if God called diverse stations of waters "seas" because they came together into one receptacle, and again all congregations—that is, the bays which the circuit of the earth embraces according to their shape—are nevertheless called seas, that is, the Northern Sea, the Southern Sea, the Eastern Sea, the Western Sea, and again each individual sea has its own proper names, Euxine, Hellespont, Aegean, Ionian, Sicilian, Tyrrhenian, and very many others, the names of all of which it is too long and laborious to go through one by one: for this reason God named the congregations of waters "seas." But the order of our discourse has brought us now to this point: let us, however, return to that which we began a while ago.

5. *And God said: Let the waters be gathered together into one congregation, and dry land appear*. He did not say "let the earth appear," lest he should again demonstrate it as unformed, inasmuch as it was muddy and still deformed and invalid from the inundation of the waters; and at the same time, lest anyone should ascribe to the sun the cause of the drying of the earth, the Creator rightly established the dryness of the soil prior to the birth of the sun. For observe with more diligent perception that not only the water which had remained upon the earth, but also that which lay hidden in the deeper parts, served [the purpose].

^A It flowed out by the command of the Ruler. And it was so. This addition is therefore sufficient, declaring the voice of the Creator brought into effect; although it is related in many geographical codices that "the water which had been under the heaven was gathered together into its congregations, and the dry land appeared"—a thing which certainly neither the edition of the other commentaries manifests nor does the usage of the Hebrews express. For in truth it would seem superfluous, after the testimony by which it is asserted that "it was so," for the same narrative to be repeated again. "And God called the dry land Earth, and the gatherngs of the waters [a] He called Seas." Why also was it said in the preceding, "Let the waters be gathered together into one congregation, and let the dry appear," when it ought more properly to have been said, "let the earth appear"? And again: "the dry appeared, and God called the dry Land"? Because "dry" is, as it were, a species of property, designating that which is subject to nature; but "earth" is a name for the thing itself. For just as rationality is proper to man—man himself, however, being the word signifying that animal whose property it is—so the property of earth is considered to be its dryness, and primarily so. Therefore, the element which has properly obtained dryness is not undeservedly named "earth" (terra); just as the animal to which neighing is proper is called a horse (equus). But not only is this to be noted about the earth, but in other elements also a proper quality is decreed to each, by which it is manifestly known, that is to say: water, retaining its own quality, by which it is shown to be cold; air has humidity; fire, heat. But these things, as the primary elements of composite things, we can contemplate only with the mind, according to the reason that has been stated. But those things which have flowed into bodies [c] ^B and are subjected to sight possess qualities conjoined to one another, and none of them can be absolute or simple, inasmuch as they are comprehended by the eyes and by sense. For the earth is dry and cold, water is humid and cold, air is hot and humid, fire is hot and dry: [d] and thus, by the power of nature provoked through these things, it comes about that all things are coupled to one another by the temperaments of an alternate mixture, and each thing coheres to the neighboring element by a shared quality; and because of the communion innate in each, they are mixed with contraries, just as the earth, which is dry and cold, is connected to the waters by the kinship of coldness; but to the air it is joined by [e] water. For water, placed in the middle of them, like the stretching forth of two hands, is joined to them by a dual quality, ^D that is, through the coldness of the earth and the humidity of the air. And again, the air, by its intercession, is made a conciliator of a repugnant nature, that is, of fire and water: joined to fire by heat, but to water by moisture. Fire, however, since it is a fervid and dry nature, clings to air by the intervention of heat, but communicates with the earth through dryness; and in this way [f] a kind of circle and chorus, as it were, compacted together, appears to be made perfect by elements convenient to one another. I have discussed these things so that the order might be made clear, for which the Lord named the dry "land," and did not rather call the earth "dry." For dryness did not follow afterward, but was anterior; inasmuch as it is the finisher of its substance, and therefore it is rightly honored by the privileges of this name. Whence also the earth, as being primary, has assumed the causes of its designation.

6. "And God saw that the water was good." The sermon does not mean that it seemed good to the Lord because of the beauty which shone forth from the appearance of the sea, according to the beauty of the creature; but by that ineffable wisdom which beholds the things that have been made. For truly the sea is delightful to us when it begins to whiten with a stable tranquility, or when, roughened by gentle breezes, it displays a purple heat to those who behold it [g]; and when it does not beat the earth with violent waves, but kisses it as if with peaceful embraces. Nevertheless, we must not think the Scripture meant that the sea appeared good to God in this way; for there "good" is judged not by appearance, but by the rationale of its construction. First, because a certain fountain of all the moisture that waters the earth is the sea: which, diffused in hidden veins—as rugged and dug-out places prove, through which the sea-water passing, having been retarded by some mountainous obstacles and pushed by the spirit by which it is driven, proceeds to the light through broken barriers, now made potable by percolation, its natural bitterness having been deposited—also receives a fervent quality when it runs through certain metals, and becomes not only hot, but burning. This we also find in very many islands and on diverse maritime shores, since it is known that this also happens in inland regions. But why have we said this? To assert that the whole earth is filled through hidden and invisible veins with flowing waters which draw their beginning from the sea.

7. The sea also seemed good to God, and because of the course which it performs in the depths of the earth, and

^A because it is a receptacle for the rivers and all the waters that flow into it from every side, remaining within its own boundaries. It is good also for this reason, that it is a certain fountain and origin for the waters of the air. Which, when it has been warmed by the heat of the sun, sheds its more subtle moisture through thin vapors, which, being drawn into a higher place and perfected by the cold—as they are overshadowed by clouds—generate dews and rains. And no one will be incredulous of this fact, if he looks at pots boiling with heat, which, when they have been filled with water and placed upon a fire, are often rendered empty; although it is indeed affirmed by sailors that the water of the sea itself is also cooked by the rays of the sun. For the vapors exhaling from the sea are taken up [(c) pensile (sponge)], and thus they soothe the heat of thirst. Nevertheless, the sea seems good for the reason that it binds the indwelling ^B waters, providing for them no less fortifications than ornamentation, and because it provides an accessible approach for fleets and supplies the causes of riches to merchants; and because many lands, unknown to the inhabitants, are learned of through the reports of those who sail; and much of the convenience of human life is deeply attributed to the sea. For we transport to other provinces and regions those things which we have in abundance, and from there, in turn, those things are brought back which are less supplied here. But from where will it be possible for me to describe the beauty of the sea, as it appeared to the Creator? But if the sea is good and laudable before God, how much more beautiful is the assembly of the Catholic Church considered, in which the diversity of all ages and sexes, with voices of glorification poured out to God, renders a sound similar to the waves of the sea, which, firmly founded in the station of peace, sustains no shaking from the gale of the heretic? Wherefore, make yourselves worthy of heavenly remuneration, conserving the honor of this order in Christ Jesus, ^B to whom be glory now and always, and for ever and ever. Amen.

Book Five. Disputation on the herb or the woods.

1. *Et dixit Deus: Germinet terra herbam pabuli, seminans semen secundum genus, et lignum fructuosum, faciens fructum secundum genus: cujus semen in semetipso est.* Consequently, thus, after the earth had breathed and had already struggled out from the weight of the waters, the command was given to it to germinate first the herbage, then the fodder, which we see happening even now. For the word which was then emitted, and that first command, as it were a certain law of nature, adhered to the earth, exhibiting for itself the faculty of creating and fructifying in the future. *Germinet terra* (Let the earth sprout). The first thing in the generation of growing things is germination; then, when it has been submerged for a little while, it becomes herbage, and when it has grown, it is considered fodder. And the same thing, gradually maturing, becomes articulated; and thus it coalesces until the timely maturity of the seed. For the grassy and green appearance is common to all. *Germinet terra herbam pabuli* (Let the earth sprout the herb of fodder). Naturally, the earth is commanded to germinate by itself, needing no assistance from any source. Since some opine that the sun provides the causes of growth for plants and seeds, while it draws those things which sprout from the earth, by the attraction of its own heat, from the lowest depths to the heights, therefore He brought forth the ornaments of terrestrial fecundity before the sun, so that the occasion for worshipping the sun, as though it were the author of the things that are born, might be taken away from those who have been placed in error—if, however, they could be persuaded that before it itself was created, the earth already stood adorned with its own ^C fruits, considering that the sun is posterior to herbs and fodder in order of birth. What, then, shall we say? That the Creator was setting aside sustenance for the cattle, but considered our own species worthy of no care of provision? It is not so. For He who prepared fodder for your oxen and horses has, at any rate, ministered more abundant riches to you, and an abundance of enjoyment, and has stored up the subsidies of your life through their nutriment. Moreover, what else should the production of seeds be understood as, other than an instruction of your stewardship? Provided that there is no doubt that the herbs and the roots of wild palms minister food to men. And although [(c)] there is some genus of herbs adapted to the uses of others, not our own, nevertheless that very thing seems to profit our own gain, no less, and the abundance of all seeds is felt to be assigned to us; and it is certain that this is the deeper understanding regarding the things that have been said.

2. *Germinet terra herbam pabuli et semen seminans secundum genus.* He says "Rightly"; for thus the order of the narrative will consistently hold, which now is thought to be in some way repugnant to itself; and the necessity of the natural stewardship will be fulfilled. For there is, first, germination; next, the herb; after this, the succession of fodder; which is soon accompanied by the perfection of the seed. How, therefore, does the discourse declare that all things which are born from the earth are seed-bearing, when neither the reed, nor the grass, nor the mint, ^D

nor the saffron, nor many other things, take their origin of birth from a seed? To these we answer, that some of the things which the earth produces are believed to possess the power of seed in their roots and in their base, just as the reed, after its recent growth, puts forth again another shoot from the root, providing for the reparation of the stock for the future. And not only the reed does this, but also a thousand other things which, being born beneath the earth, preserve a living offspring in the root. Whence it is proved to be true that to each of those things which are born, there is present either a seed for renewing the kind, or a certain seminal power is joined to it. And this is what is said: *according to its kind*. For the offspring of the reed cannot be held to be the creator of olive trees; but from the reed another reed arises through the likeness of kinship, and thus that which the earth brought forth in the first generation is preserved even until now by the succession of posterity. *Let the earth sprout with the herb of fodder.* See how, from a small voice and a very brief command, the arid and sterile earth, suddenly travailing and impelled to the fruitfulness of birth, as if having put off a certain mournful cloak and having put on more joyful garments, and exulting in the cultivation of its own beauty, poured forth all things which it had conceived by the heavenly decree. I desire, therefore, that the miracles of the creature should cling more deeply in your senses: so that wherever you have been found, and before whatever kind of thing that is born you act as a spectator, you may perceive the magnificent memory of the Creator, and before all things, when you see the herb of hay, or a flower, you may soon turn yourself to the image of human nature, remembering the exemplar of the wise Isaiah: *Because all flesh is as hay, and all the glory of man as the flower of hay* (Is. XL, 6). For the brevity of this life, and the minimum of joy, and the cheerfulness of mortals regarding prosperous things, is most fittingly compared by the prophet. For someone seems today to be restored in his limbs, easily robust, in the bloom of his age, roaring with strength, and irresistible in his onset. This one is soon found on the following day to be miserable; while he is either broken by old age, or wastes away with languor. Another is likewise held to be spectacular, and filled with the abundance of greatest resources, supported by attendances, hedged about even with an army of assumed friends, and encircled by the vigils of parasites or of sycophants of his kin, from all of whom, both going out and returning, he gains envy along with disparagement. For he who is conspicuous cannot decline this disease. Add to riches also civil power, and honors bestowed by princes, the governance of nations, the commands of armies, heralds announcing with a horrific voice before his very self, and the bearers of the fasces escorting him from here and there, and bringing most serious terror to the suppliants: add the scourges, proscriptions, auctions, chains, prisons, from which an intolerable dread is heaped upon the subjects. What then? One night, and the accession of a fever, pain in the side, the gasp of the lungs, leads man away, torn from men, and the whole scene of him is suddenly uncovered, and that so great power, like a dream that has passed, is not seen. Wherefore, the prophet has opportunely compared the weakness of flowers to the glory of human kind.

3. *Let the earth sprout with the herb of fodder according to its kind.* Therefore, the order of things born is until now a witness to the first disposition. For germination precedes all things which are generated, and if anything springs forth from the root, like the saffron and the grass, it is necessary that it first germinate, and after this [that it be] seen as green hay, and thus in mature fruit, with the stalk already yellowing, [that it be] brought to pass. *Let the earth sprout with the herb of fodder.* Therefore, when the seed has fallen into the soil, and has been softened by moisture and moderately by heat, presently it is connected to the bosom of the earth, receiving certain generative nourishments one after another, and it sinks little by little into its veins, and with its most minute fibers spread out, it breaks through the swelling of the superjacent earth by being born, and, already firmly and fixedly established, it rises easily to the same number [tallying] its stalks upwards as it has extended roots downwards. And thus the tenderness of the sprout, made warm by the vapor underneath, which has glided in by the traction of heat through the roots, and is ministered to the nourishments of the earth: it diffuses a part of itself into the stalk, leads a part into the husk, provides a part for the grains, and stretches a part into the ears. And in this way by perfect concretion, little by little, they all arrive at their own measure. Therefore, whether it be wheat, or legume, or vegetable, or shrub, it will be able to sufficiently instruct your sense, so that you may be able to behold the wisdom of the Creator as Craftsman: how the stalk of the grain is girded as if with certain knees, so that, bound together by frequent joints, it may the more easily be able to bear the burden of the ears, when they, with the heaviness of maturity, have begun to be bent downward. And for this reason, the stalk of the oat is held to be entirely hollow; because it carries no weight, forsooth, in its head. But nature has provided for the wheat otherwise, the grains of which it has very providently placed in sheaths, so that they may not be torn apart by birds. And for this reason it has reasonably placed ears on it for the sake of protection, like spears, by the prickles of which smaller beasts are repelled.

4. What shall I speak, or what shall I leave unsaid, looking upon the treasures of the creature? The attainment of the better things is indeed difficult, but the loss of those omitted is not endurable. *Let the earth sprout with the herb of fodder.*

^A And those things which proceed [from the earth] as actual and poisonous—that is, when hemlock is joined with the wheat, and with the remaining seeds, hellebore, and aconite, and mandrake, and poppy juice. What then? Shall we, having put aside thanksgiving for the munificence of the Creator, accuse Him for the production of harmful causes? By no means; considering this, that not all things were made for our belly; but the food assigned to us is as ready as it is known. Moreover, each of the things that have been generated has its own reason. Nor, because a draught of bull’s blood is regarded as lethal, was it therefore unfitting that the animal itself should be created, or not be seen at all, a creature whose labor is indeed estimated to be very necessary for the various uses of our life. But ^B for you, the reasonableness familiar to men will suffice for avoiding what is harmful. For if to sheep and goats there is afforded a natural sense of avoiding what is contrary, [a sense] distinguishing harm by intellect alone: you, to whom the faculty of speech is present, and to whom the skill of medicine is available—exploring remedies for health, and [having] frequent experience of things, demonstrating for us the escapes from evils—tell me, will you be able to avoid dangerous things, of which nothing has been set aside idly or uselessly? For they either provide fodder for certain beasts, or they confer comforts for health to us when we are sick. For starlings are accustomed to eat hemlock, the poison of which they are said to escape according to the quality of their body. For the breathing-pores adjacent to their heart are very subtle, and it happens that they digest what they have taken before the cold arrives at their inner intestines. Hellebore is also in use as food for quails; they avoid its pestiferous virus by a certain tempering of their own nature; but these things, too, are believed to help us ourselves. For from mandrake are composed sleep-inducing medicines beneficial for the most severe pains of the limbs. But some have mitigated the most troublesome craving for eating by means of hemlock; some have extinguished long-standing vices of the body by means of hellebore. Therefore, why would you think of casting an accusation of crime against the Creator, when from that very source you derive the increases of praise ^C that should be rendered to Him?

5. *Let the earth germinate.* To what extent, therefore, does He speak of food being found spontaneously in the leaves of herbs and roots and seeds, or how much is conferred by cultivation and diligence, although He did not command that the fruit and seed be produced immediately, but decreed that it first germinate, and that the earth grow green, and then ripen the seed, so that that first ^D instruction concerning the nature of things might be made according to the reason of those that follow. How, therefore, does the earth produce seeds according to their kind, when sowing tawny wheat, we for the most part gather black [wheat]? We shall say that this does not pertain to a change of kind, but to a certain infirmity and languor of the seed. For the grain which has been blackened by scorching has not ceased to be grain, as we can know from the very name, because the species, having been scorched by excess of cold, has transferred the seed into a different color and taste. As conversely, if the field is fertile and enjoys the mildness of the sky, it soon reverts to its original form. But the darnel and other adulterated kinds, which Scripture is accustomed to call tares, mixed with the edible crops, are not generated from the corruption of the wheat, but are born from their own proper origin. The consideration of these things is to be applied to those who subvert the mandates of the Lord, and do not receive the word of warning sincerely; but, depraved by malignant teaching, they dare to mingle themselves with the healthy members of the Church, so that they may secretly infuse the clandestine ruin of their own disease into souls that are sound; although the Lord compares the perfection [E] of those believing in Him to the growth of the seed, thus saying: [F] *That a man should cast seed upon the earth, and he should sleep and rise night and day, and the seed should spring and grow up, he knowing not how. For the earth of itself bringeth forth fruit, first the blade, then the ear. Let the earth germinate the herb* (Mark IV, 26). Therefore, in the briefest moment of time, the earth, beginning from germination so that it might fulfill the law of the Creator, having gone through all the degrees of growing, soon raised them to the maturity for which they were born. You could see at that time all the glades shining with the greenness of herbs; fields also adorned with swelling crops, emulating in a certain way the likeness of a fluctuating sea with the movements of the ears. All then was hay and every kind of garden vegetable; and if there was anything bushy or fit for seed, it was manifest with copious fruits over the earth. No despair was then to be feared for the seeds: no sloth of the cultivators to be blamed, no [G] intemperance of the airs, no complaint of any cause bringing corruption to the crops, no condemnation which could impede the fertility of the lands. For afterwards, there existed the transgression; for which we are condemned, that we should eat bread in the sweat of our face.

6. Among these He also commands the tree ^D to be born, doing fruit; whose seed is in itself.

^A According to its kind and likeness. By this decree of the Word, all the forests were immediately becoming dense, and even the trees which are accustomed to grow high, that is, the olive, or cedar, and cypress, and pine; and not only so, but the shrubs were clothed with leaves and the young shoots with foliage. Furthermore, what are called the garland-producing plants—I mean the roses, the myrtles, and the laurels—at one and the same moment, though they did not exist before, were springing up, each with its own property, distinct from the others by a most manifest proof and produced by a certain designation. Nevertheless, at that time the rose was without a thorn. For afterward, to its beauty, anxiety was joined, so that pleasure might be coincident with care, reminding us of the sin for whose sake the earth was condemned to bring forth thorns and thistles. It is, indeed, commanded ^B to bring forth the fruit-bearing tree; but we see many trees bearing neither seed nor fruit. To this we say that those which are more useful have principally merited to be committed to memory; furthermore, to those who inquire subtly, it will be revealed that all trees are either seed-bearing or hold a power similar to seed. For the poplar, the elm, the willow, and others such as these, indeed appear to bear no manifest fruit; yet, if anyone searches more attentively, he will find seed within them. For there is set upon their leaves a grain, which those who have busied themselves with the composition of words are accustomed to call *mischum*; this possesses the force of seed. For those things which are born from the planting of branches, from themselves, put forth roots in great quantity. Perhaps even those buds which are pushed forth from the trunk have a certain reason of seed, which gardeners, having plucked off, have been accustomed to plant for the sake of propagating the species. First, however, as we said above, those trees are held to be worthy of mention which, sustaining our life with their fruits and nourishing man, had for him an enviable liberty of enjoyment: such as the vine, which generates wine that gladdens the heart of man, and the olive bearing fruit which exhilarates the countenance, in mercy. ^C How many other things then simultaneously emerged, pressed forth by nature as it brought them forth! Thus the root of the vine has in its circuit green shoots, scattered along the ground: from which first the sprout arises, which becomes the wild grape, and after this the grape. It is sufficient, therefore, for the vine also, when prudently inspected, to subject to you a remembrance of nature. For you remember the example of the Lord’s discourse, in which He says that He is the vine, but the Father the husbandman. But each one of us, who through faith have been grafted into the Church, He has called *sarmenta* [vine-shoots]: ^D provoking us unto copious fruitfulness, lest, accused of sloth, we be delivered to eternal flames. In short, He does not cease, everywhere comparing the souls of men to vines. For thus He says: *The vineyard was made for the beloved in a rich corner* (Isai. v, 1). And again: *I planted a vineyard, and surrounded it with a hedge* (Matth. xvi, 33), indicating clearly the souls of men, which He hedged in with the protection of the heavenly commandments, having added, moreover, the guardianship of angels, just as it is written: *The Lord sends His angel around those who fear Him, and He will deliver them* (Ps. xxxiii, 7). Then, like certain palisades with which we might be supported, He erected those established in the Church, first apostles, second prophets, third teachers (I Cor. xii, 28). And thus, rousing us by the examples of the ancient saints, He has raised us up on high: nor has He allowed our mind, lying upon the ground, to become deserving of the trampling of others. He wishes us, also, to be as if bound by certain tendrils of the vine—that is, by the embraces of charity—and loving every neighbor, to strive always with the impetus of the mind toward the things above, having become similar to the shoots which are accustomed, by growing little by little, to arrive at the highest tops of the trees. He also demands that we endure digging. But the mind is dug, by the deposition of worldly cares, which make a heavy burden for our hearts. Therefore, he who has cast away the allurements of bodily pleasure and has despised the abominable circle of glory and riches, shining as if from the cultivation of digging, begins to breathe freely, with every stain of earthly conversation wiped away. It is also fitting for us, according to the reason of the proverb, not to flow out by indulging luxury—that is, not to live ostentatiously, nor to seek the glory of external praise; but, showing ourselves truly fertile to the culturing God, to prefer the industry of good works. You, however, like a fruit-bearing olive, shall not be stripped by any winter, but always hold the green and valid constancy of faith. For thus you will be seen to imitate the vigor of that tree and its fruitful opulence: if you most abundantly bestow mercy at every time. 7. But now let us return to the scrutiny of the disposition of the Artificer. How many kinds of trees existed then, of which some are fruitful, others are fit for casting, some adapted for building ships, and some necessary for hearths? Again, in these is observed a various ornamentation, of which both the investigation of their property is held to be difficult and the difference of each. For some are attached to deeper roots, others to top and light ones: others are extended into the height, for individual…

^A plants, when fixed to their trunks, are lower; and from their roots they pour forth many eyes. And those whose tops are high have roots that are reckoned to be manifold and deeper, and spread out in a circle: which nature has set down as a kind of foundation, by which the superimposed mass may be sustained. How great also is the diversity in their barks! ^B Some of these are smooth and shiny, some knotty and rough, others simple, or indeed some joined from many stems. And what you will marvel at even more, the likeness of human old age and youth is found in them. For the bark of young and flourishing shoots is smooth and stretched; but that of those which are aging is wrinkled and rough. Some of these, when they have been pruned, put forth shoots again, while others soon wither when they are cut, as if suffering a kind of death from the injury of the incision. It is surely proven to many that pine trees, when burned or cut, ^C transform themselves into an acorn-bearing grove. It is also known that some trees, cared for by the diligence of farmers, have thoroughly lacked natural faults. For pomegranate trees that are more sour, or bitter almond trees, are said to be able to be softened in this way: if, near the root, a wedge of pine-wood is driven through the middle of the trunk, it will take away all the annoyance of the incongruous taste by a change of sweetness. Therefore, no man, ^D though befogged by the darkness of wickedness, should despair of his own salvation, knowing that while agriculture brings the qualities of fruits into a better state, yet the spiritual labor is mighty enough to overcome the wickedness of all diseases. And indeed we see that there is such a distance in the fertility of trees that we cannot even explain it in words. For not only is the discretion of the fruits contained in a different kind, but a very great diversity is also found in individual ones. For it is said that the skill of cultivators has handed down one kind of masculine fruit and another of feminine: ^A who also affirm that palm trees are of a dual sex. For it is seen how that which is named the female among them bends its own branches toward the male as if seeking intercourse, so that it might conceive from its mingling. Hence, ingenious farmers are said to graft certain buds taken from the male onto the female; and thus, as if filled with the desired union, it quickly draws back its arms and returns to its former state. These things are also told about figs. For it is said that some attach the plants of wild ^B trees to garden ones: nay, some even bind the fruit of the wild fig to domestic ones for the sake of acquiring health, so that they might retain their falling buds. The figure of which matter is believed to warn us that we ought generally to take a lesson of faith even from those of a different origin, for the purpose of declaring the profession of good works. For if ^C you see anyone from among the Gentiles or heretics separated from the Church of the Lord, yet adorned with honorable ways and morals, you ought to strive more earnestly, and increase your zeal more and more so that you might be able to draw near to that fruitful fig tree, which, having borrowed a fertile vigor from the society of wild ones, has indeed inhibited the vices of troublesome flux, and has seized the resources of neighboring fertility.

8. Therefore, if the account of these generations is so great, ^D that we have been able to explain but a few things for many, who could run through the varieties, qualities, or forms of all fruits, and how much utility is contained in each, since some ripen when cooked by the sun, and others thrive defended by the protection of husks? And how leaves are stronger on those that bear soft fruit, like figs; while the texture of the membranes is more tender on those where the fruit is held to be harder, like nuts: because the fig, plainly, on account of its weakness, deservedly begs for the help of greater assistance, but on nut trees a dense opacity of leaves could have caused damage. How reasonably, too, is the vine leaf perfected with a manifold formation, so that the grape might repel the injury of the air through the part which is covered, while through the part that is exposed it might receive the warmth of the solar heat. We see, therefore, that nothing is fortuitous, nothing done without reason. There is in all things a certain ineffable and wondrous wisdom. But what mind, or whose eloquence, will suffice ^D to comprehend all things subtly, so as to be able to contemplate their properties, and to discern the differences of individuals, and to search out the secrets of causes hidden deep within? How is it that one and the same humor, drawn up through the roots of trees, is dispersed into varied offices, nourishing the root itself in one way, the bark in another, the trunk in another, and the pith in yet another? And how does it now become a leaf, now form into shoots and branches, and provide the fruits with the nourishment for growth? The same matter also pours forth certain tears through the branches, of which how great is the

^A differentiation between them, who can explain? For one is the tear of the mastic tree, another the juice of balsam, and yet another is the sweat that exudes from the Egyptian and Libyan reeds. There is also a report that amber is the tear of a certain tree, hardened like a stone. The testimony to this fact is the small shoots or even gnats, which, sitting 730 in the flowing juice of the amber, became stuck when it congealed. And, in short, no one who has not been taught by experience can give a full account of their qualities: how, again, from the same moisture, the vine produces wine, and the olive, oil. Nor is this wonderful only because the latter becomes sweet and the former oily, but that in the fruits themselves there is demonstrated a very manifold [(b)] change of flavor. For the quality of sweetness is different in the grape, different in the apple, different in the fig, and different in the date. I want [(c)] you, therefore, to examine this matter even more clearly; how the humor seems most pleasant to the sense of the lips and to the taste, whereas in some fruits, having attained maturity, it becomes sweet, yet in others, when it approaches, it is held to be sharp and vexing. It even oppresses the sense with excessive bitterness when it has diffused itself into wormwood or scammony. In oak or cornel berries, however, it becomes astringent and hard; but in the terebinth or walnut, it receives a soft and oily substance.

9. But why [(d)] do we pursue distant things, when in one and the same fig, the humor in the sap is sometimes most bitter, and in the fruit, most sweet, and in the vine it is sharp when it buds, but sweet in the ripe grape? How many differences, moreover, could you say there are in colors? Finally, if you ever look upon the flowering fields, you will see the same ^C liquor, which in one flower is poppy-red, while in another it is purple, or white, or golden, and it shows an even greater difference of odor than of color. But I already feel my discourse greedily extending into immense spaces of contemplation. Unless I tether it to the necessity of the creature, time will surely fail me to unfold to you the magnificent wisdom, by making a comparison of lesser things. Let the earth bring forth the fruit-bearing tree ^A making fruit. As soon as the commandment was given, the mantling woods began to increase upon the mountains, cultivated gardens were seen, and the banks of rivers were filled with diverse kinds of foliage. Some of these are disposed to adorn the tables of mortals, others to provide fodder for cattle, and others [(e)] are adapted to medicinal uses; and, to speak briefly, whatever long-term experience of things has gathered for us, collecting from all sides what is necessary, this most swift dispensation of the Creator, foreseeing from the beginning what was to be, established that they should be generated. But when you see domestic, wild, terrestrial, and aquatic plants, and flowers, recognize the greater in the least, yet in such a way that you add to your own admiration the love of the Creator, by inquiring how He makes certain trees always green, while some are stripped in winter, and of those that are always green, some are accustomed to shed their leaves secretly, so that they can never be stripped of their own fronds, as [(f)] is the olive or the pine; while He commands others to be clothed in everlasting leaves, as the palm, with which it is believed to be content from its initial germination until the very end. Consider also how that tree which is called the tamarisk is as if of an ambiguous kind, since it delights no less in humid places than in drier ones. On account of which, Jeremiah (XVII, 16) prudently likens the varied and changeable customs to this shrub set it its own powers [(g)] as much as it has, for informing the genus of herbs, seeds, and trees to produce at the individual cycles of years. For just as a pine top, incited by the blow of an initial strike, unfolds its tortuous circles with curved spaces, and having once been fixed on a sharp foundation, spins itself around; so the reason of nature, having received its beginning from the prior commands of God, passes through all time, until it reaches the common term of its end. Toward which let us also, filled with the fruits of good works, hasten, that planted in the house of the Lord, we may flourish in the hall of the most pious God, in Christ Jesus, to whom be glory and honor always, and for ever and ever. Amen.

BOOK SIXTH

1. Spectators of athletic contests ought to be sharers in the health of the combatants, which will be easily proven by the organizers of the lustral games, who command all those gathered in the stadium to sit with bare heads. Therefore, as it seems to me, it is necessary that each person be not only a spectator but also a participant in the sweat. Thus, evidently, it behooves the seeker of the greatest and most excellent spectacles, and the hearer of the highest and ineffable wisdom, to bring his own reasons for the contemplation of the proposed object, and to share with me [(a)] the burden of labor, judging himself to be more a comrade standing by than a judge; lest by chance

the discovery of truth elude us, and my fault become a common loss for the audience. Why have I said this? Because the discussion proposed to us ^A concerns the composition of the world, having gained its beginning not from secular wisdom, but from that which the Lord taught His servant Moses specifically, not speaking to him in figures. Therefore, it is necessary for the most studious observers of the greatest things not to approach the present questions with an unexercised mind. Therefore, if at some time under the stillness of the night you have gazed upon ^B the ineffable beauty of the stars, I believe that, captivated by the Creator of all things, you have asked who it was that adorned the heaven with such flowers, and in what way in those things which are seen, usefulness is proven with greater delight; and likewise if, discussing during the day with a sober mind, you have considered the daylight miracles, and through the account of visible things, you have recognized Him who is held to be invisible, you have come altogether ready to listen, showing yourself worthy of the celebration of this honorable and blessed spectacle. Wherefore I shall do what those who are accustomed to take foreign visitors of cities by the hand ^C and lead them to the designated places do—that is, just as those who are ignorant, I shall introduce you to the hidden miracles of this greatest city. In this city, therefore, is situated our ancient fatherland, from which the murderous devil led us away, having enticed us with his allurements. Here, beholding the first generation of man, and the death which has subsequently followed us, which sin—that first-born germ of the ancient demon—brought forth; there you recognize man, in nature indeed earthly, but the work ^D of divine hands; in health much inferior to the beasts, but established as the prince of living and inanimate things; weak in natural instruments, but raised to heaven itself by the help of reason. If we have learned these things, we shall not indeed recognize ourselves, but we shall remember God. We shall adore the Creator, we shall serve the Lord, we shall glorify the Father, we shall reverence the Benefactor, we shall not cease to venerate the Author of our present and future life, who through the riches He has bestowed upon us demonstrates also the truth of those things He promised, and who through the experience of present things, confirms also those which are hoped for. For if temporal things are of such a kind, what must eternal things be? If visible things are so good, what are those which are not seen? If the magnitude of the heaven exceeds the measure of the human mind, who would be sufficient to estimate the nature of eternal things? If ^A the sun, subject to corruption, is so good and great, swift in mobility, ordered in its paths, having a fitting amplitude, by which it cannot overstep the moderation established for all things? But the ornament of nature, like a certain discerning eye, provides an adornment for the world. If its aspect is insatiable, what shall the sun of justice be thought to be in its beauty? If it is a loss for the blind not to see this, how great a loss does the sinner suffer, defrauded of the true light?

2. And God said: Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to illuminate the earth, and let them divide between day and night. The heaven, of course, and the earth had preceded, light had already been created above them, day had been distinguished from night, the dry land had already been revealed, the water had been gathered into the assigned station, the earth had been filled with its fruits; for it had germinated so many thousands of herbs and abounded in various kinds of plants: but the sun was not yet, nor the moon, so that they would not be called by men the prince and father of light, or the author of the things born of the earth, who do not know God. Therefore, on the fourth day He said: Let there be lights, and ^B God made the two lights. Who commanded? Who obeyed? Do you consider in these the duplication of persons? Everywhere, therefore, the dogma of the Deity is woven into the mystical narration of history, and the cause for the luminaries being created is at hand, to illuminate the earth. How then, if light had preceded, is the sun now said to be established for illumination? First, indeed, let not the simplicity of our speech move you to laughter, if we do not affect the elegance of your eloquence, nor follow the compositions of periodic clauses. For we are not accustomed to cultivate the structures of words, or the euphony of pronunciation; but we hold that the honest signification of terms is everywhere ^C to be preferred. Observe, therefore, how it declared through nature what it willed sufficiently: for it calls them lights for the sake of illumination, which is certainly not repugnant to those things which were said beforehand concerning light. For then the nature of light was produced; now, however, the solar body itself was made, upon which that first-born light is superimposed. For just as fire is one thing, and a lamp another, of which one possesses the power of illuminating, the other is formed for the sake of providing light for those who are in need of it; so also those lights are placed underneath that most pure and sincere light as if upon vehicles, although the Apostle (Phil. II, 15) calls some the lights of the world. But another is the true light of the world, by whose transfusion the saints were illumined, and became lights to those souls, whom, teaching the truth, they freed from the darkness of ignorance. Thus also this visible sun shines, inflamed by that principal splendor.

3. And let it seem incredible to no one that we have said that another ^D [alt-version omitted]

^A is the splendor of light and another the body subject to light, firstly because things that are composite are divided into two parts, that is, into the receiving matter and into the quality which happens to it. Therefore, just as there is one thing which is natural brightness and another which becomes bright, so these things which have been mentioned seem indeed in their nature to be distinct from one another, but are joined by the power of the Creator. And do not tell me it is impossible for these (a) to be separated from one another; for I do not confirm to you or myself that a separation of light from the solar body is comprehensible, but only that it is esteemed as divisible by our opinion alone. In truth, by the nod of the Creator, these things can easily be separated from their nature. Finally, it is entirely impossible for us to discern the heat of the sun from its splendor, but God, wishing to convert His servant by a wondrous vision, so applied the flame to the bush that He might show only the power of its radiance, having laid aside its burning heat. Just as the psalm also testifies, saying: The voice of the Lord cutting through the flame of fire (Ps. XXVIII, 7). From which even in the retribution of sins that we have contracted in life, a certain more secret reason teaches that the nature of fire is to be divided: whose light will be counted for the illuminating of the just, while the heat will go forth to the burning of (b) the wicked. It is permitted for us to draw faith regarding the things inquired about also from the passions of the moon; for on waning, it is not consumed entirely in its whole body, but by now laying aside once and now receiving the light imparted to it, it exhibits to us certain phantasms of its own contraction and diminution. For that its whole body is not consumed when it is waning, those things which are seen are a testimony: for it is permitted for you, when the air is clear and lacking in misty vapors, to watch the moon waning, when it is round according to (c) the scheme, when its globe is circumscribed by such a circle on the side that is dark as it is when it has full light. Seeing this evidently whole and perfect, one observes the part by which it shines manifested. And do not tell me that its light is adventitious, since indeed it is diminished when it turns against the sun, but grows when it has departed from it. For neither is it our purpose to discuss it in this way, but [to show] that its body is one thing, the cause of its light another. Therefore understand for me, by that same token, the nature of the sun, which for this reason ^B the moon also seems to differ; for although it does not indeed put off the light once received and implanted in it, the latter however, being more often stripped (e) and reclothed with light, will easily be able to confirm from itself the things that were said about the sun. Therefore, these lights have been set to divide between day and night, (f) the nature of which He then deprived of mutual contrariety, so that they might be held irreproachably toward one another, and no communion of shadows could exist with light. For what (g) is shadow by day, that is considered darkness by night. And just as all shadow is emitted from bodies subject to light, tending indeed in the morning toward the west, in the evening inclining toward the Orient, at midday hours inclining toward the part of the Septentrion, so the night itself also recedes, repulsed backwards by the rays of light. Of what else is the nature to be understood than the shading of the world? For just as by the clear day a shadow soon accompanies anyone standing near the sunrise, so, with the air being shaded which is nearest to the earth, night is effected, and this is what He says, God divided between the light and the darkness. For darkness almost always flees the advent of light, as they are things for which an alienation between (h) themselves has been naturally fitted since the first generation. But now He has ordered the sun to complete the daily spaces, and has set the moon—when it has completed its orbit—as the governor of the night, so that these lights succeed one another by a certain dimension. For as the sun proceeds, if the moon is full, it is immediately led to the west. Again, however, when the sun has set limits for its course, the moon begins to rise. But if, according to other schemes, it does not at all equal the lunar light during the space of the night, it is of no concern to the proposed question, as we only assert that when the moon is perfect, it holds the principate of the night, surpassing the stars with its own brightness and traversing the earth; but it shares the measure of time equally with the sun.

4. And he says, in signs, and in seasons, and in days, and in years. ^C You will therefore find, as longer use teaches, the notations and observations of signs necessary for human life, if you do not inquire into them more than you ought. For we can learn much concerning future rains (i); very many things, too, concerning the vapors of the earth, and the movements of winds, or through the parts of

they are to arrive violently or peacefully. One of these proofs is held alone, which the Lord ^A shows us, saying that a tempest is coming when the sky begins to be darkened by a fiery redness (Matt. XVI, 3). For when clouds come up, the rays, obscured, are seen with a red and bloody color—the density of the air, of course, presenting such an appearance to our eyes, an air not yet released by the force of heat, ^A but—because of the vapors exhaling one after another, and thickened more and more by the accumulations of water—it threatens a most certain storm to the regions in which it has gathered. A similar thing also happens when there is a luminous ring around the moon, or when that area surrounds the sun which is called a halo, which indeed announces either a multitude of waters or the roar of future winds, or when those things are seen moving about it which are called ^B "sun-dogs": truly, they portend that some events of the ethereal tract are imminent. Just as those rays, too, which are shown in the color of the rainbow under the morning clouds, signify violent rains and storms, or some disturbance of the sky in every way. Many signs also, when the moon is waxing or waning, are said to have been noted by those who have studied this science; they assert that the air nearest the earth is necessarily transformed by the shapes and qualities of the moon. For ^C when it is in its third day, if it appears slender and not at all with blunt horns, it declares a stable and firm serenity. But if it is held to be reddish and thick with horns, it threatens excessive rains and southern violence. Who, then, does not know how much convenience the observation of these things bestows upon men? For those about to sail can keep their fleet within the harbor, foreseeing future dangers; a traveler, too, having become cautious, expects a time of tranquility from the gloom of the sky; farmers also, bestowing careful diligence upon seeds and plants, instructed by the mentioned signs, wait for the suitable opportunity. What more, since the Lord preached that there were ^D also portents to be seen in the sun, moon, and stars for the dissolution of all things, saying: The sun shall be turned into blood, and the moon shall not give her light (Joel II, 31; Acts II, 20). But these are signs of the world's consummation, as we have said.

5. But they who try to stretch their leaps beyond the ditch ^A to the reason of genesis, to the course of the proposed design, they say that our life depends on the motion of the heavens; therefore the Chaldeans assert that the observations of the stars pertain to human affairs, and they interpret the simple word of Scripture which speaks of "signs" not as referring to the change of air or the quality of the seasons, but, as they think best, they transfer them to the lot of human life; saying that the complex of certain moving stars, when they have come together in a configuration—if, for example, according to such a schema they meet—is accustomed to perform a certain genesis; and again if they have another state, it composes contrary decrees. Concerning which it will perhaps not be useless, for the sake of opening up the question, if I begin by repeating the series of the narration a little earlier. I speak, however, not of my own, but for the sake of refuting them, I shall use their own arguments: so that both they who have been prevented by error may receive remedies for the lesion they have incurred, and others may find some protection, so as not to suffer similar things. Those, therefore, who are the inventors of the genesis-theory, experienced in the length of time, because they avoid many things concerning the schemata, reduce the measure of time completely into a narrow space, so that even in the most minute interval, as the Apostle says: In a moment, and in the twinkling of an eye (1 Cor. XV, 52), there may be ^B a great distance between one genesis and another, asserting that he who is born in this moment will be a king of nations and a prince of peoples, destined to obtain the greatest power and many riches; but he who is created in that moment will be a beggar and a wanderer, and for the sake of daily bread, will haunt the doors of others. For this reason, then, they divide the circle which is called the signs into twelve parts; because the sun departs for thirty days from the twelfth ^C place of the sphere, that which is called the *aplane*, that is, the inerrant. And again they deduce each one of the members of the thirty parts through twelve spaces: of which they distribute the individual portions again into another sixty, and enumerate them sixty times sixty portions. Arranging the genesis of the newborn in such a way, let us see if they can preserve this subtlety under the dimension of time. For immediately as the infant has proceeded from the womb, it is necessary for the midwife to observe—who may say whether it is a boy or a girl that has been born—and she awaits the cry by which she may take the sign of the living infant. How great a force, while these things are being done, you may say one has ^D passed the moments.

^A And so, while the child who has been brought forth is being manifested to the mathematician, how many points do we say have elapsed while the answers are being returned? Though it might happen that he who gathers the hour of birth is standing outside the doors of the chamber, it is necessary that the tablet be checked, so that the course of the hours, whether they be diurnal or nocturnal, may be calculated diligently and without any intermission. How great, therefore, will the number of sixtieths be thought to have passed at that very time? For it is necessary that a star be found, which stands not only in a certain part of the twelfth space, but even at a certain point of the twelvefold divided portion, or rather, in which moment of the sixtieths it is found—in which we said the lot of decrees had been divided, or, so that the truth may be inquired into entirely, in which of those sixtieths it appears, which are restored from the first sixtieths. But they confirm that this discovery of time, thus clarified and incomprehensible, must be done for each and every planet, so that it may be known what bearing it had toward the erratic stars, or what configuration they held among themselves when the infant was born. For if the hour has not been guarded solicitously, and it has happened that even a little of that most subtle calculation has been changed, the entire observation is completely confounded. Those who have devoted themselves to the studies of this inexplicable discipline are indeed worthy of laughter, but much more so are those who gaze upon them more greedily, as if they knew something. ^B And yet, do you assert from there the causes of the life of mortals, and derive the forms and minds of those born from earthly cattle, and say that a man will be munificent because he is "oovine"—not because that part of the sky is the perfecter of such morals, but because such is the nature of the sheep? Do you therefore urge us on by the preeminent dignity of the stars, or rather do you endeavor to persuade us to accommodate our consent to you through dumb beasts? But if the pole possesses the properties of manners assumed from animals, it itself also lies subject to the necessities of others, since it has obtained the principles of causes driven from four-footed beasts. But if you say that this is inept, you will pronounce it much more inept that you would dare to offer assertions about these matters which seem to have nothing in common with us. But these arguments of theirs are similar to ^B the webs of spiders, in which, if a gnat or a fly has settled, it is held entangled; but when something from the stronger creatures has fallen into it, it immediately penetrates it, while the weak web breaks through.

7. Yet they are not at all content with these, but they go further, wandering to greater lengths. For they apply to the necessities of the heavens the things that are placed in the freedom of our own will, that is, virtues or vices. Although it is laughable to contradict these, yet because many have fallen into this seduction, it seems appropriate to me not to pass over it in silence. From them, we ask in the first place to acknowledge whether the configurations of the stars are not changed a thousand times every day. For those stars which are called planets are always moving and ^C running about, of which some follow others with swift traces, and others move more slowly, and under the same hour they often both look upon one another and are hidden. Great power indeed is held in the horoscope, as they say, if either a good star or a malign one looks upon the one being born. But it happens for the most part that at that time when a good star was presiding, the mathematician, not finding the time because of his ignorance of one of the smallest portions—which we mentioned above—describes him as lying under a cacodemon, so to speak—to use their own terms, in which there is indeed great madness, but even greater impiety is held. For they transfer the causes of their own wickedness to the creator of the malign stars, for if wickedness were inherent in them by nature, the creator would surely have proved to be the author of malignity. If ^D they are.

^A in their own design and acting solely by their own arbitrary will and free impulse, driven to whatever they please, then it surely exceeds all bounds of madness to implicate inanimate things. Next, what extreme irrationality it is not to distinguish good from evil according to the proper dignity of each, but to define what is best or worst according to the quality of a place or the perspective of another? And yet, when a star deviates slightly from its position, it is said to have forgotten its own innate malignity. But enough of this. They change themselves from one position to another, as they say, at every single moment of time. In these thousands of such great and manifold changes, how many royal births must we suppose are being daily determined? Why, then, are princes not being born every day? Or why is the succession of the paternal empire always maintained among them? Because, clearly, no one attributes the events of their children to the arrangement of the stars; for the kingdom is bestowed not by the fate of birth, but by the right of lineage. Did not Ozias beget Joatham, and from Joatham was Acham born? And yet none of them incurred the servile lot of such a condition. Moreover, if we do not obtain the principles of virtues and vices by our own will, but by the necessity of birth, then clearly, as I see it, the lawgivers who command us what to follow and what to avoid are superfluous; equally redundant are the judges who adorn the honorable with praise and punish the wicked with penalties: even the thief or the murderer must be judged innocent, since, even if they had wished to restrain their own hands from the crime, they could not have done so, due to the irresistible impulse of necessity. All craftsmen who seek to sustain life by the labor of their hands must be considered vain. Furthermore, the sweat of the farmers is useless, for those who do not work could just as well abound in the produce of crops. Even the merchant would become rich while at leisure, for whom the birth-star would bring money even against his will. Indeed, the hope of Christians, which is great, would have perished entirely, because it is in vain either to cultivate justice or to condemn iniquity if we are not permitted to do anything based on our own intention. For when the power of a birth-star and the decree of fate weigh upon us, the examination of a just judgment finds no place at all. Let this suffice to have said against such people. For you do not need more prolix discourses, being possessed of a sound mind, nor does the time allow the limit of the discussion to be extended further. 8. But let us turn our discourse back to the rest. "Let them be," he says, "for signs, and for seasons, and for days" ^D and in years. We have already spoken of the signs: we understand the four parts of the turning year, that is, spring, summer, autumn, and winter. These, by succeeding one another in turn, are tempered by the arranged courses of the luminaries. For winter occurs when the sun lingers in the southern regions, drawing out the nocturnal darkness for a longer space around the climate ^C that we inhabit. Hence it happens that the air closest to the earth is made cold, and all the nebulous vapors, being gathered together, produce rains, snows, and ice. But when the sun, returning from the southern region, has occupied the midpoint of the celestial orb, it then distributes time equally between days and nights. And the higher it is raised from the earth, the more it gradually composes a temperature, through which spring advances, by whose benefit shrubs and trees bud, and all earthly and aquatic animals, stimulated by genital heat, extend the propagation of their kind through the succession of offspring. Then, the sun soon deflecting toward the summer line, passes through the northern borders, making the days longer for us. By remaining longer in the air, it makes it indeed burning and scorching, while it renders the earth drier, whence the desired capacity for ripening seeds and fruits is provided. At that time, it is held to be hotter, and makes the meridian shadows shorter, because it looks upon our region from a very high place, and the days are considered greater when the shadows are short: just as, conversely, the days are small when the shadows have been longer: which happens to us who are called heteroscii, that is, having different shadows, and inhabiting the northern parts. For there are some who, for an entire two-day period each year, are entirely without shadows when they have stood under the meridian sun, whom, because the sun, positioned against the very zenith, illuminates them with equal spaces on all sides, it allows to cast shadows into no part at all. For even the water in a well among them can barely receive the slightest sunlight into the cavity, on account of which some call them ascii, that is, shadowless. But those who live beyond the fragrant lands change their shadows in both directions. For those who are seen to inhabit our region are believed to cast shadows always against the south, that is, toward the south, whence also by some they are called amphiscii, that is, double-shadowed. But all these things happen as the sun travels to the northern parts. From these it is to be considered how great the fervor of the rays is held to be, and how great the circumstances it creates for men. After these, therefore, the autumn season succeeds, which is of cold and co.

BOOK VI OF THE METAPHRASE OF EUSTATHIUS' HEXAEMERON.

obtaining balanced portions of heat, 736 brings us safely to the arrival of the following winter, the sun namely returning to the southern region from the northern parts. These are the vicissitudes of the seasons, which, serving the movements of the sun, are believed to regulate our life. “And let them be,” he says, “for signs and for days”: not that the sun makes the day, but that it moderates the day. For once, night and day existed before the luminaries were created, which the psalm also declares, saying: “He set the sun in the power of the day, the moon and the stars in the power of the night” (Ps. cxxxv, 8). How then does the sun have power over the day? Because, carrying light within itself, when it approaches the orb which we inhabit, having dissolved the darkness, it provides the day. No one, therefore, is mistaken who calls this air, illuminated by the sun’s rays, the day, and believes it to be the measure of daily time, which stays in the hemisphere, as they suppose, that is above the earth. “And,” he says, “these signs are disposed in the years.” Since, therefore, the moon has completed twelve cycles of its course, it makes a year: it demands, however, that a month be added to it, so that the perfect concurrence of the hours may be more diligently gathered: just as the Hebrews observed the year in ancient times, and the most ancient of the Greeks. The solar year, however, is called the arrangement of the sun, returning again through its own footprints from a certain sign to the same one.

9. “And God made two great luminaries.” There is therefore a twofold naming of “great,” of which the one has an absolute sense, while the other is that which assigns what is greater in respect to the lesser: for example, a great horse or a great ox. For we do not derive the naming of such things from the excessive immensity of their bodies, but from a comparison with another. How then do we take the sense here regarding the naming of the “great”? Is it the former sense, without doubt, comparing lesser things to greater, like an ant or some other animal small by nature, relegated to second place by a comparison with the greatest? Or rather, because they are deservedly called great luminaries on account of their huge form? And I think it should be understood in this way. For they are not called great because they are greater than other stars, but because the amplitude of their orb is such that the radiance which radiates from them sufficiently illuminates the whole air, and reaching everywhere, touches all lands and seas. Which, when it has stood in any part of the pole, or rising or setting, appears equally to the gaze of all mortals. Its magnitude has a most certain proof: because not even by comparing the luminaries themselves is the width of the earth, as great as it is, assigned, so that by this the sun and moon might be understood to be either smaller or larger. For things that are placed far away are always thought exiguous to our eyes: but when we have come ^A near, we find their magnitude is easier to discover. But it is asserted that the sun is never, or any further, or closer, but in such a way, from every side, it regards what is subject to it with an equal balance: which the Indians and Britons look upon in like manner. For neither, in turning toward the setting, is it felt to lose any of its magnitude by those inhabiting the East; nor does it appear smaller to those positioned in the West when it rises, nor does it change the appearance of either side when it holds the axis in the middle of the sky. Let not, therefore, its brevity, when contemplated, deceive you, nor because its orb is thought to be a cubit wide to those who see it, is it to be thought that it is really held to be such. For the prolixity of things observed is always accustomed to be linked to the stretch of the intervals; and the keenness of the eyes does not attain the length of the intervening space by looking, but is spent as if in a deficiency, and rather by estimation than by sight it touches the things that are seen; and therefore, on account of its weakness, it judges those things to be small which are great, attributing its own imbecility to the things it sees. Truly, therefore, the eyes are deceived, and do not have faithful judgment. For remember your own infirmity, and from yourself take a proof of what has been said. Thus, if at any time you have looked from the high peak of a mountain at the subjacence of the plain of the fields, did you not judge the yokes of oxen so grand or their plowmen similar to ants? ^B Nevertheless, even when you have been located on a high watchtower and have turned your eyes to the sea, what did the islands seem like to you? Did they not offer you a certain phantasy of the very smallest doves? Or were the huge ships, viewed from afar with white, swelling sails, thought to be black? For this reason, obviously, because the sense of the eyes, as we have said, thinned by the distension of the air, does not suffice to comprehend more fully the things that are seen. For even the appearance of the largest and deeply hollowed rocks is thought to be round and full; while the vision, occupied by the margins emerging on all sides, is not able to attain the middle place of the cavity in its deficiency. So, too, the sight does not notice what the shapes of bodies are like, but thinks that towers which are square are round. It is certain, therefore, that at more prolix intervals we do not receive a defined, but a confused, vision of bodies. So also the great luminaries, according to the testimony of Scripture, are more manifold than they are seen to be.

10. It is also an admissible proof of their magnitude that, since the stars are infinite in number, the radiance which proceeds from them cannot yet break the nocturnal density. But the sun, with the light poured out through the world, not only when it is seen, but even when it is hoped to come and before it illuminates the lands, breaks the obscurity of the night, and overcomes the stars ^D with its brightness, and the air near to the earth, with cold and mists.

^A And those who sleep under the shining of the moon, after they have arisen, find their heads wet with a most abundant dew. But fresh meat, too, if it lies under the moon, is soon corrupted by a fluid rot. The same thing is signified by the brain of cattle, or even the viscera of marine animals, which are moister, and also the marrow of trees; all of which would certainly be in no way sufficient to be restored to their quality by the moon, unless it excelled in the amplitude of its power, according to the testimony of Scripture. It dissolves and scatters what is concreted: from which the morning breeze and the dewy moisture, when it is clear, are generated. But since the earth is very broad, how could it, in one moment of time, be totally illuminated by rays, unless a most abundant light were provided for it from the great orb of the sun? Observe here now the wisdom of the Creator, how he applied a moderate power of heat to its immensity; so that neither can the immoderate scorching burn up the earth, nor can the denial of heat render it entirely unfruitful. Indeed, understand that things consistent with this are true also of the moon, whose body, although it is lucid, is not always seen in the same magnitude, but now ^A it is seen perfect in a globe, now semi-full, of course, but it is shown diminished, and it designates its own defect by a double part. For on one side it is discovered to be dark as it grows, and on the other as it wanes. The reason is truly more secret, declaring the dispensation of the designing Creator, through which the variety of the moon submits to us an example of our own nature, for the reason that nothing in human affairs is persistent ^B and lasting, but those things which are produced from nothing, when they have grown to something, and have been raised to the highest measure of their age, gradually wither and dissolve. Therefore, from the consideration of the moon we are taught to observe mortal things, and taking hold of their mutabilities in reflection, we must beware lest, elated by favorable circumstances, we affect pride or insolence, and we must not trust in temporal power, nor be exalted by wealth or riches, which are too uncertain: but we must restrain the greed of the body, which is considered most unstable, and rather lend diligence to the soul, whose good always ^C remains immobile. And if perhaps the moon saddens you, gradually failing as it sheds its light; more should the soul afflict you, which loses the honor it received from divine virtue, never keeping a firm purpose by the vice of intemperance, but constantly turning itself, as one supported by no barriers of constancy. For in truth, according to the proverb: The moon changes without a voice (Eccli. XXVII, 12). I think, however, that even in the creating of animals, and in everything else that the earth produces, no small formation is conferred by the change of the moon. For otherwise when it is perfect, and otherwise when it wanes, their bodies are arranged. For sometimes they appear looser and empty when it wanes, sometimes whole and full when it grows: because it secretly infuses within a certain moisture mixed with heat. Those who under the open sky ^D sleep with the moon shining prove that this is so, as the newness of the moon attests, which from a long serenity often suddenly brings forth gatherings of clouds and disturbances. The receding movement of the Euripus also indicates this, or even the reciprocation of the Syrtes, which are held to be neighbor to the Ocean, which the inhabitants of those places have reported to be stirred up according to the phases of the moon. The Euripi also are wont to turn their own gentle currents toward either side, in all the rest of the time; but when the moon is born, they can in no way remain quiet, but always seethe with violent heat, until the moon appears again, bringing sedation to the stirred-up whirlwinds. Similarly, the western sea suffers frequent access and recess, now washing the shores with waves, now abandoning them. Thus, as if by certain breathings of the moon, it is withdrawn backwards, and again poured out by its impulses. I have therefore discoursed on these things to express the magnitude of the luminaries, and because not even up to a single syllable can anything be idle in spiritual precepts, since the discourse has surely drawn forth nothing from the more secret matters. For one who does not slothfully search the affections and powers of these things will be able to find much by thinking upon the amplitude or the intervals of the sun and the moon. Therefore, it is necessary for each one to accuse his own weakness rather: so that it may not be believed that the magnificence of the creature can be measured by human words. But from the few things that have been said, it is convenient to consider how great and what kind of things are those which we have passed over. Do not, therefore, wish to estimate the moon with your eyes, but rather with reason, which has more power than sight to approach the discovery of truth. Old wives' and laughable fables have therefore spread everywhere: that the moon is brought down to the earth, having been evoked from its proper seats by magic incantations. In the first place, how can it be moved by the power of incantations, which the Most High himself has established? Then, what place would receive it as it descends? Yet, do you wish to receive proof of its magnitude from small signs? Therefore, the cities which are in the world

are situated at long intervals from one another. Their open spaces, which look toward the East, receive the lunar light all in the same manner. To all these, therefore, unless it were seen in the presence of the moon, it would traverse only those narrow alleyways placed directly opposite it, but those which exceed its breadth, as coming from a transverse direction, it would in no way visit. This is also declared by a lamp lit in the house; if several surround it, the shadow of those in front is cast straight, whereas that of the others is bent to either side. Thus, unless the lunar body excelled in immensity and breadth, it would never reach everyone at once. For when it rises from the solstitial parts, it illuminates equally those who inhabit the cold region of the northern axis, and it encompasses with summer warmth those who live in the lower meridional region under the sun's zone; this provides the most certain proof of the magnitude properly belonging to it. Who, therefore, can contradict this, arguing that its body is not immense, when it extends over such great and vast intervals of the earth? ^A And so much for the magnitude of the sun and the moon. May He who granted us understanding, that we might know the infinite wisdom of the Artificer from the smallest things of creation, also grant us to perceive the greatest thoughts concerning the Creator, although by comparison with Him, the sun and the moon are thought to have the measure of ants. And therefore, although they are not worthy that from them a contemplation of the divine magnitude should be taken, we seem to be instructed by certain small and dim parables, just as we are sometimes accustomed to compare smaller animals or herbs to great ones. But now let us be content with the sequence of the narrative; surely, I for my part am giving thanks to Him who has attributed to me this small gift of limited speech, and to you for presiding as heralds of spiritual nourishment, who has fed you in the present with, so to speak, barley bread—that is, the weakness of my voice—and may He feed you in the future, according to the rate of each one's faith, granting us the revelation of the Spirit (I Cor. XIII, 9); to whom be glory in Christ Jesus, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen. ^B

BOOK SEVENTH

1. *And God said: Let the waters bring forth the creeping things of living souls, and flying creatures flying above the firmament of heaven.* After the formation of the luminaries, the water also is filled with animals, so that this element also might be adorned. For the earth had long since received proper beauty from its own germs; the heaven also had assumed the flowers of the stars, and had been graced, as it were, with twin eyes—that is, by the conjunction of the greatest luminaries. It remained that a familiar decoration should also be rendered to the waters. The command came, ^C and immediately lakes and rivers were rendered most fruitful for their own kind or nature; the sea also so filled the brood of diverse swimming things that neither muddy marshes nor shallow pools held any idle or useless power of generation. Frogs, too, and flies and gnats undoubtedly swarmed from there. For those things which are seen now provide proof of what has passed. Thus, all water was compelled to serve the Creator's commands. And for those whose kinds one cannot even suffice to explain, their life, soon vigorous and mobile, showed the ineffable and magnificent power of God, and at the same time, the command which was given to the waters is followed by the opportunity for vivification. *Let the waters bring forth the reptiles of living souls.* Now for the first time, breathing animals, capable of sensation, are generated. For shoots and trees, although they are said to live, as they have possessed the power of being nourished and growing, are not yet to be understood as animals. And on account of this He said: *Let the waters bring forth reptiles.* Therefore, every genus of swimming creatures, whether it is borne upon the highest waves or is divided into other whirlpools, ^D has certainly been allotted the nature of creeping; while the body is drawn through the water, even though some also use feet and steps. And although many things regarding them are considered ambiguous, such as sea calves and crocodiles and frogs and crabs, yet their chief mode of movement is swimming. Therefore, *Let the waters bring forth reptiles.* In these very brief words, therefore, all genera are contained. For what has not been encompassed by the Creator's command? Whether you call them...

those that bring forth whelps—that is, sea-calves, and seals, and dolphins, and those like them—or whether you designate them as egg-bearing, as are almost all genera of fish. And the voice of the command indeed is small—nay, not a voice, but rather merely a momentum and impulse of the will: 739 its intellect, however, is held to be as manifold as the differentiation of the fish themselves can be. To follow all these with words is no less laborious than if you should attempt to describe the number of the waves or [(a)] how many amphorae the sea contains. "Let the waters bring forth reptiles." In these are the oceanic, the littoral, the deep-sea, the rocky, the schooling, the savage, the massive, and the minute fish; all are contained under the same power of the command, both the very large and the very small. Therefore, when it said, "Let the waters bring forth," it demonstrated how great is [(b)] the kinship between aquatic creatures and the water. Indeed, if they are drawn out to land for a little while, they fail; for they lack the breath by which they might take in vital air. For just as air is given to earthly animals, so to fish is water given. And the reason is manifest, because for us there lies adjacent a rare and expansive lung, which, by the distinction of the chest drawing in air, cools the interior heat by ventilation; for them, however, the structure of the throat, being collapsible, now receiving and now expelling water, fulfills the office of breathing. There is also for fish a distinct lot and a distinct nature, and a different nourishment, and a certain condition of living. Therefore, nothing of the aquatic creatures is tamed, nor does it suffer itself to be handled by the hands of men.

2. "Let the waters bring forth the reptiles of living souls." Every genus's origin, now as it were a seed, it commanded to be brought forth; for it preserved the multitude afterward in the progeny, when it is necessary for them to grow and multiply. Thus of another genus are those which are called testaceous, such as cockles, scallops, and sea-snails, and thousands of different shellfish; and of another are those which are called soft-shelled, that is, crawfish, crabs, and their like. There is also another genus of those which in Greek are called *malacia*, that is, whose flesh is held to be more tender and loose, such as cuttlefish and octopuses and their like. Among these, again, there is a great difference. For the dragons and murrays and eels, which are born in muddy rivers and marshes, are joined by the similarity of nature more to venomous serpents than to fish. There is also another genus of the egg-bearing and another [(c)] of the whelp-bearing. But the weasel fish, and the haddock, and others that are without scales ^A are those which the Greeks call *salatia*. But also the greatest part of the brutes, and dolphins, and phocae, bring forth whelps, which, when their offspring are newly brought forth, if they have been terrified for some cause, are said to glide back into the womb to protect and cherish them. "Let the waters bring forth reptiles" according to their genus. Another genus is that of the massive, and another of the minute fish. Likewise, in these same ones there are many differences, divided according to the quality of the genus, to which there are also proper names, distinct nourishments, the size of limbs is disparate, and they are separated by diverse species among themselves. Who, therefore, being a watcher of the tunnies, could explain to us the distances, although they [(d)] assert that with the sight of the greatest schools of fish, one can mark not only the genus but also the number? Who, moreover, of those artificers of the sea, who dwelling on the shores and growing old in the maritime retreats, will be able to reveal the knowledge of each one? For those who fish in the [(e)] Indian sea know some fish, and others know those who scour the Egyptian main. Others also the inhabitants of the islands know, and others the Maurusine fishermen. But all of them, as well the small as the larger, the first command and that ineffable virtue produced. Great is the diversity of life for them, and excessive is the discretion in the succession of each genus. Many fish do not brood over their eggs, as birds do, nor do they build nests, nor with labor nourish their own young: but the water receiving the egg creates the animal, and it remains in each genus immutable to another nature; and the progeny is unconfused, and not as in the case of terrestrial mules or birds, whose [(f)] manifest stock is corrupted by adulterine admixture. No fish is, by half a portion, armed with teeth, as we see sheep and oxen to be, nor does any fish ruminate, except for the scarus, as some have handed down. But all fish are condensed with a very sharp edge of teeth, so that the food, not dissolved for too long in the mouth, might not flow away, which, if it were not quickly torn and delivered to the womb, would easily be altered and scattered by the waves.

3. But food is adapted to different fish according to their genus. For some are fed by mud; some are content with herbs that grow in the water; but the greater part are satisfied by devouring the others, and the one that is smaller among them always becomes food for the larger. And if it should happen that he who had taken a smaller one is consumed by the bite of one more powerful, each one is cast into the belly of the latter. As if we humans were doing something else while we [crush] the inferior...

through our power. Or what differs from that last fish, the man who, inflamed by the love of riches, has absorbed the needy, who were captured in the insatiable chasms of his own rapacity? One held back the substance of a poor man taken by force. You, through threats and terrors, made his portion yours after he was surrounded, and so you became more unjust than the unjust, and more rapacious than the rapacious. Beware, therefore, lest that same outcome which befalls fish ^B befall you: namely, the hook, or the net, or the basket. For it is also necessary for us, if we are stained by heinous crimes, not to escape supreme punishments.

Furthermore, having experienced that even in feeble animals there exist wiles and traps, you should prefer to avoid the deceits of the cunning. For they say that the crab craves the flesh of the oyster, whose capture is difficult for it on account of the coverings of the shells, by which nature has protected the softness of its flesh; from this, it is also named "testicoria" (shell-guardian). Therefore, because they are concave, the convoluted inner parts of the oyster defend it, and because of this, the aggression of the attacker becomes vain. What then does the adversary plot? When he sees the oyster in sunny places [*d*] happily spreading itself under the sun, he secretly places a small pebble before it, by the obstruction of which it cannot close its coverings, and thus what he could not accomplish by force, he was able to achieve by cunning. Such is the malice of these creatures, to whom belongs neither reason nor any voice. But I desire you, having contemplated the lucrative stratagems of the crab, to abstain from the injuring of your neighbors. For such is the man who proceeds toward his [*e*] brother with a deceitful mind; he either devastates the goods of his relatives, or delights in the calamities of others. Wherefore, cease to emulate the censured, for poverty with truth is preferred by the wise over the greatest riches. And so I will not pass over the cunning of the fraudulent and thieving octopus, which, when it grasps some rock with its extended tentacles, takes on its color, and many fish, having swum in there imprudently, thinking they are simply pulling themselves toward a rock, are deceived, and immediately present themselves for an easy capture ^C by the malignant one. Such are those who, obsessively following the powerful, change with a variety of mind; nor persisting in one purpose, they show themselves as someone else and then someone else again, practicing modesty with the chaste, and luxury with the libidinous, and altogether adjusting their own ways according to each person. And it is difficult to avoid those such as these, on account of the wickedness which [*f*] hides in the pretense of duty. The Lord called men of this kind ravenous wolves, who feign themselves to be gentle sheep in their clothing (Matt. vii, 15). Flee, therefore, such variety of character, and pursue rather truth, sincerity, and innocence, since the viper also is manifold; for which reason the Lord condemned it to crawl on its belly. The righteous man has nothing feigned, as Job does; therefore, the Lord "will make those of one mind to dwell [*g*] in a house" (Ps. lxvii, 7). "This sea, great and spacious: there are snakes there whose number is not, animals small and great" (Ps. ciii, 25). But yet there is in them a certain wise and moderate arrangement. Therefore, we ought not to condemn all fish, but rather to praise and imitate certain ones. For see how individual species keep to the regions assigned to them; and no one occupies the boundaries of another, but each is content with its own dwellings. And certainly no land-measurer distributed their dwellings [*h*] for them to defend, nor marked them out with the surrounding of walls, nor placed boundaries to be observed: but benefit is bestowed upon all in common [*i*]. For here this bay nourishes a certain species of fish, another elsewhere. And those who abound in this place are held less on the shores in others: not because they are separated by the most rugged mountain ridges, or blocked from transit by the obstacles of rivers placed between; but the law of nature has bound all by the observance of its ordinance, distributing to each what is necessary, just as the requirement of each one demands. ^D 4. But we are not such as these: for we boldly exceed the boundaries of our ancestors, and [*j*] we cross the pastures of our neighbors, and we join house to house, and field to field, and mutilate the rights of others (Prov. xxii, 26). Marine whales know [*k*] the dwelling-place granted to them by nature, which is situated in the furthest parts of the sea, to which no land at all is shown in view, and which is considered entirely unnavigable. For neither has it been ascertained what it is like, nor by historical report, insofar as no one trusts in crossing it. In this place, therefore, the mentioned beasts, which are the size of mountains, dwell, neither infesting any cities, nor islands. Regarding individual species in their stations, the Greeks demand thus, *pros ton adelphon*.

^A Indeed, certain fish, as if by a common decree of citizens, undertake the labor of migration toward the exterior parts, and at the same time, as though a sign were given, they all depart for distant places. For when the season for spawning begins to flourish, some from one bay, excited by the laws of nature, soon aim for their journey toward parts of the Northern sea. When you see them returning, pressed together in a most dense gathering, you would think a most violent torrent was flowing through the shore of the Propontis, those migrating to the Euxine Sea. Who, therefore, rouses them? What ruling authority? What edicts, proposed, announce the appointed time to them? Who are their leaders? Do you not see the divine ordination filling all things and ^B spread even through these small things? Fish, therefore, do not resist the laws of God, yet humans receive salutary doctrine not at all. Do not scorn fish because they are mute and irrational; rather, fear lest you be judged irrationally in comparison with them by opposing the precepts of the Creator. Listen to the fish, who only lack the power to speak in words, for they seem to converse through certain signs, because they are compelled to undergo a desirable migration for the immortality of their kind. They do not use their own speeches, but they have the law of nature clinging firmly to them, demonstrating what must be done. "Let us go," they say, "to the Northern sea, for its water is sweeter than the other seas, since the sun, having lingered there for a short time, does not entirely exhaust the potable waters with its rays." For marine animals also take delight in sweeter waters; hence, fish coming from far off the sea are often seen ascending through rivers. Therefore, they seek the sea more willingly than other bays, because it is more suitable for them to nourish and rear their offspring. When they have sufficiently completed what was destined, they all return together in swarms to their own places. But what the reason is, let us hear from the ^C silent ones. For it is true that the Northern sea is shallow and sloping, and on account of this it is exposed to the violence and commotion of the winds, so that when storms arise, it is shaken from the very lowest bottom, so much so that the sand from below is sometimes mixed with the highest waves. It is also excessively cold in the winter season, as it is filled with many and great rivers. When they have enjoyed the summer months there, they are again deterred by the roughness of the succeeding winter, and they betake themselves to the higher places of the sea, which are more tranquil.

5. I observed these things and admired the wisdom of God, because irrational creatures are held to be providers and guardians of their own safety, and they understand what is convenient and what is adverse for themselves. What, therefore, shall we say, ^D who have been adorned with reason, are invited by promises, and have been spiritually instructed, yet order our own affairs more irrationally than the fishes? Even though they have a study of the knowledge of the future, we, however, depraved by the faithlessness of the future age, spend our life through most foul acts and illicit pleasures. Fish, therefore, traverse such distances of the sea so that they might find what is useful. What, finally, are you to say, having sloth clinging to you, which is the prince of wickedness? Let no one, therefore, allege ignorance; for there is a reason naturally implanted in us, either for seeking the familiarity of good things or for declining the injury of harmful ones. Therefore, I shall not refrain from the examples of marine animals, since we have proposed these examples for ourselves to be examined. I have heard one of the dwellers on the shore reporting that the sea urchin, though it be most base and contemptible, often becomes an index to navigators of future serenity or winter. For when it has sensed that a blast of winds is impending, it places itself under a stone, where, supported as if by the fluke of an anchor, it avoids the shaking of the storm. And it allows itself to be weighed down for a time by a superincumbent weight, provided it is not tossed by the waves. When sailors have seen this sign, they know that the roar of the winds is soon to be stirred up. And surely no astrologer or Chaldean, collecting the quality of the air from the rising of the stars, taught the urchin; but the Lord of the storms of the sea manifested the footsteps of His magnificent wisdom to this tiny animal as well. Thus, nothing is improvident, nothing is overlooked before God; for that unsleeping eye observes all things and is present to all, bringing remedies of salvation. If He did not leave the urchin without His visitation, will He not regard you and yours, O man? Husbands, love your wives (Ephes. v, 25). Even if the intervening expanse of lands may seem to separate you for a time, nevertheless, let the law of nature and the yoke of blessing be an indivisible conjunction for you. Although the viper is the most savage of serpents, it proceeds to the mating of the moray eel, and with its hiss...

it summons her from the depths of the sea to enter into nuptial union, to which she soon obediently binds herself. What then does this discourse desire? That although a husband may be harsh and considered churlish in his ways, a wife must necessarily bear with him, never by any occasion severing the affection once contracted. But you say he is irascible or cruel; yet he is your husband. Vinolent, yet he is joined to you by nature; hard and implacable, yet he is considered the most precious part of your body. ^B The viper vomits forth its pestiferous poison out of reverence for the nuptials; do you not put aside the ferocity of your spirit and its bitterness, constrained by the modesty of the marriage bed? Perhaps we shall also find for ourselves other examples from the viper that are convenient, for the union of the viper with the moray eel makes for an adultery of nature. Let them, therefore, recognize, those who plot against the marriages of others, to what kind of beast they are compared. Thus, there is always one proposed aim, by which the Church may be built: and for this reason I exhort that the lusts of the wicked be made to cease, corrected by examples from the sea and the land. Here I am compelled to end my discourse, as much by the approaching evening hour as by the infirmity of my body. For there would be many things that we ought to add to the treatise, especially since the listeners are studious, and since the things that are born in the sea are most worthy of admiration—whether of the sea itself, how its water is turned into salt, or how that precious stone which is named coral is an herb while it is kept in the deep, but after it has been brought out into the air, it is soon changed into stone. Or from where nature subjects to the vilest of living creatures, the oysters, a pearl of heavy price, so that a poor fisherman might find that which kings greatly desire, enclosed in a shell along the shore and among jagged rocks. From where the sea-feathers nurture gold-colored wool; or from where shellfish provide purple for emperors, which surpasses in the charm of its own color the beauty of all flowers. ^C Waters, bring forth. What has not been made necessary? Or what has not been brought to our life as something most excellent? A part of these things profits the ministries of men, while others vindicate for themselves the contemplation of a marvelous creation. There are some terrible things, which certainly should restrain our sloth. God made great sea monsters, but not because they are greater than other small fishes ^D is, therefore, it is said to be great, not because it is equalized to lofty mountains by the immensity of its limbs, which is also often thought to be an island when it lifts itself upon the highest waves with a gentle swimming motion. Yet this does not dwell on usual shores or in inhabited places, but is said to inhabit the ancient sea. Such beasts, therefore, are formed to strike fear and terror into us. But when you hear that a tiny fish so retards and holds back huge ships, with their sails swollen and fluttering in the sea with a favorable wind, that they are rendered motionless for a long time, as if grounded by certain roots in the deep, do you not receive from this minimum animal a proof of divine power? For not only the dogfish or the swordfish or the whale is fearsome; but also the sting of the stingray, and certainly the dead one, and the sea-hare, are avoided with equal fear, for they carry inescapable and swift destruction. Since these things are so, the providence of the Creator preferred that you should always be vigilant: so that, trusting in Him, you might constantly escape all harmful plagues. But now, returning from the depths of the sea, let us return to the earth. For other miracles of creation occurring to us from others have, like a certain wave, submerged our discourse with frequent and alternating tossings. And [E] I would surely wonder if our senses, occupied with greater causes, did not flee back to the land, just as Jonah fled into the sea. Wherefore, the series of our discussion seems to me, entangled in many thousands of miracles and forgetful of its own mediocrity, to be like those sailing on the deep, who, not directing their course to a fixed place, are ignorant of how much space they have traversed by sailing. We have proven that this has indeed happened to our discourse, which, while wandering more broadly through the paths of creation, does not perceive the multitude of those things related. But although the assembly of those standing by may be eager to listen, and the narration of the Lord's miracles may seem most pleasant to their hearts; nevertheless, we make an end of discoursing here, intending to pay the rest of the debt on the following day. But now, let us all together give thanks for these things which have been said: and let us ask for the supplement of those things which we have less explained, and may He cause us to remember, even amidst the very feasts, what our discourse brought forth either in the morning or toward evening, and may their memory cling to you, even during sleep.

meditating day and night upon the law of the Lord, to whom be glory and honor, now and forever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.

BOOK EIGHT

^A 1. *And God said: Let the earth bring forth the living soul according to its kind: quadrupeds, and serpents, and beasts according to their kind. And it was so.* There comes a command moving throughout, and the earth received its proper course. There, He commanded the waters to bring forth the creeping things of living souls: here, *Let the earth bring forth the living soul.* Do you think, then, that the earth is endowed with a soul, and shall room be given to the empty-headed Manichaeans to attribute a soul to the earth? Not in any way; because He said, *Let it bring forth*, what was in it, it brought forth; but God, who gave the command, also granted the earth the power of bringing forth. For neither, when it heard that it should germinate the herb of hay and the fruit-bearing tree, did it bring forth only the herb of hay, latent within itself, nor did it bring forth palms, or oaks, or cypresses, hidden in its secret depths, to the upper air; but the divine Word is truly the creator ^B of things coming into being, *Let the earth germinate*, not so that it should lead out what it already had, but that it should assume what it did not have, God, of course, providing the power of operation for it. So also in this way: *Let it bring forth a soul*: not one that was stored up in the earth, but one which was conferred upon it by God through the mandate. Then the argument must be turned against the Manichaeans. For if the earth brought forth a soul which it already possessed, it itself became lifeless. But the detestability of those men is known again and again. Let us, however, see this: why the waters were commanded to bring forth the creeping things of living souls, but the earth a living soul. We believe, therefore, that it is because the nature of swimming things is thought to have ^C a life that is in a certain way imperfect, on account of the fact that the waters are denser. For, in short, hearing is slower in living creatures that dwell in the waters, and sight is duller, inasmuch as they see through the water, nor is there any memory, or opinion, or recognition of their own kind among them. The divine Word declares, therefore, that carnal life in aquatic creatures is controlled by the motions of the soul. For in land-dwelling beasts, which have obtained a more perfect life, the mind holds the primacy of the body. Indeed, their senses are more lively, and, since the animals are plainly very concerned about present things, they then diligently maintain the memory of past actions. Hence, it must be considered that the water produced the animate bodies of fish, as Scripture signifies, whereas in terrestrial animals, the soul ^D ruling the body is commanded to be generated, as these have assumed more of the vivifying power. Although these terrestrial creatures themselves are irrational, nevertheless each one of them signifies many things beyond animal passion through its natural voice. For they declare by voice their joy and sorrow, and hunger, and the separation of their own kind, and various molestations, when aquatic creatures are not only mute, but even fierce and untaught, and absolutely intractable to men for any association of life. *The ox knows his owner, and the ass his master's crib* (Isai. 1:3), but the fish can never know the one who provides its nourishment. The ass knows the familiar voice of man, it knows the path upon which it has traveled more often, and sometimes it becomes a guide to its driver, when he has strayed; it is so sharp in its hearing that none of the terrestrial animals can be compared to it. The camel always has a memory tenacious of injuries; and it is harsh toward anger, and persevering. In short, if it is struck, it dissimulates its pain for a long time, and when it finds an opportune time, it immediately returns the inflicted injury. But no marine beast imitates this one. Listen, therefore, you irascible men, who crave the recollection of an injury received long ago as if it were the greatest virtue, to which beasts you are made similar, when you retain your own bile, like some spark suppressed in ash, as long as it is in your hearts, until, having found an opportunity, you stir it up into a flame like a small fire nourished by fuel.

2. *Let the earth bring forth the living soul.* Why does the earth bring forth a living soul? So that you may learn the difference between the soul of a beast and that of a man. And you will learn a little later how the soul of man is constituted: now, however, hear about the soul of mute beasts, because according to Scripture the soul of all animals is their blood. But blood, when it congeals, is accustomed to be converted into flesh, and flesh, when it is corrupted, returns to the earth. Rightly, therefore, is the soul of beasts corruptible. *Let the earth bring forth the living soul.* See the consequence of the soul to blood, and blood itself.

^A And finding that the soul of animals is earth, do not think it more ancient than their bodily substance, 744 nor expect it to dissolve along with the body. Flee the anxious babblings of the philosophers, who do not blush to assert that their souls and those of dogs hold a similar form. For they even profess that they themselves were once women, fish, or plants. But, for my part, if they were ever fish—which I do not believe—still, while they were writing such things, they were considered more irrational than the fish themselves. *Let the earth bring forth the living soul.* Why, therefore, have I suddenly, in the midst of a flowing discourse, kept silent for no short time? I believe some of those standing by are wondering, although I do not think my most attentive hearers are ignorant of the causes of my silence; for, by their looks and nods to one another, they have brought back to my memory those things which I had omitted. For we almost passed over, without discussion, a portion of creation that is not the least significant. ^B *Let the waters bring forth the creeping things of living souls, according to their kind, and flying things under the firmament of heaven.* We had spoken above concerning the swimming creatures for as long as the evening time had permitted; today we pass on to the examination of the terrestrial ones. But in the meantime, the birds escaped us in our narrative. Wherefore, we must imitate those forgetful travelers who, when they have left something precious at an inn, although they have completed the greatest part of their journey by moving forward, return—bearing a labor worthy of their negligence: so also must we return by the same path by which we came. Nor is what we omitted contemptible, seeing that it is the third portion of the animal creation. For there are three kinds of living creatures: terrestrial, winged, and marine. *Let the waters*, he says, *bring forth the creeping things of living souls according to their kind, and the flying things flying under the firmament of heaven according to their kind.* Why, then, does he attribute the birth of birds also to the element of the sea? Because there is a certain affinity held between birds and fish. For just as fish cut the water with the motions of their fins, moving forward, while with the rudder of their tail they direct their own turns, so too are birds believed to pierce the air by swimming with their wings. Therefore, since there is one property of swimming in both kinds, the same affinity from the water is available to them as well. ^C There is a difference, however, because no winged creature can exist without feet, since they obtain their food from the earth, and on this account they necessarily enjoy the service of feet. But for the birds of prey, the sharpness of their talons is also adapted for carrying off their spoils. For to the rest, for the sake of the quest for nourishment and for the other requirements of life, the ministries of feet have been granted. Few birds, however, have useless feet, neither convenient for walking nor for hunting, such as swallows and bee-eaters, to whom food is provided from the air alone. But the swallow is accustomed to fly lower and to touch the earth almost, so that by this it seems to fulfill the use of its feet.

3. There are many kinds, which if anyone wished to explain—as we have described the multitude of fish in part—he would find one general term for all birds, but very many differences among them, whether of habit, or ^D magnitude, or color. For they are distinguished by an excessive diversity of customs, actions, and diet. Moreover, some have affected to use varied names for them, as if by unusual signs the property of a new and unheard-of nomenclature were recognized in each of the kinds of birds. But for us, the signification is sufficient for contemplating the quality of each kind, and the use of common Scripture, which distinguishes between clean and unclean. For one kind is of those that eat flesh, and another is the form consistent with its own customs: for they have hooked talons, a curved beak, and a swift flight, by which prey is more quickly captured, and, being torn apart by their feet, provides easy food for the captor. There is another species of those that are nourished by seeds, and another of those that take whatever chance offers for food. And in these, again, there is the greatest difference. For some are gregarious, except for the birds of prey: none of which associates with others except for mating. Others live in common, such as doves, starlings, cranes, and jackdaws; of which some are found without leaders, governing themselves, while others are kept under management, like cranes. There is also in them another distinction, according to which we see some are guests, while others are natives. Some, when winter compels them, depart to foreign lands on account of their need for food. Most become tame and patient, except for the weaker ones which, on account of their excessive timidity, cannot endure the handling of a hand. Others associate among men, in the same [places] as they [live].

^A They dwell in houses, while others delight in desert places and mountains. There is also a great difference among birds in their voices, and each has its own peculiarity. For some are talkative and garrulous, others are silent; some are tuneful and clamorous, others are shrill, and have no song at all. Some are naturally imitative, or trained by human custom. Others have a single and unchanging sound of voice. The cock is lustful, the peacock diligent, the dove lecherous, and the hen domestic. The partridge is deceitful and jealous; sometimes, joining with hunting men, it maliciously consents to the capture of others; and generally there is a manifold distinction of actions and habits among them.

4. There are certain animals that are urban, if indeed urbanity ^B is to lead the operations of individuals towards one common point: just as is to be seen among bees, for whom there is a common habitation, and flight, and one labor for all, and what is greatest of all, under kings and leaders each performs its own proper duty. Nor do they dare to seek the open fields before they have seen their prince take flight. Yet a king is not appointed among them by the people, for often the votes of an unskilled multitude are wont to advance the unworthy to the imperial summit, nor is the kingdom granted by lot. For the outcomes of the urn are irrational, seeing that it often assigns the insignia of power to the lowest of all. Nor are the imperial scepters handed down by the inheritance of parents, since the children of princes are easily corrupted by pleasures and indulgences, and become feeble and foolish. But by the judgment of nature, he who is worthy receives ^C the crowns of command, excelling the rest no less in the elegance of his limbs than in the gentleness of his manners; and he has certain stings, but he does not use them for the injury of others. Thus nature has prescribed certain silent laws for them, by which they are restrained from inflicting torments upon suppliants. But the bees themselves, if they have not followed the institutions of their rulers, are punished by their own repentance. For if they sting anyone, they lose their life at the same time as their sting in the wound. Let Christians hear these things, who are commanded to return evil to no one for evil, but to overcome malice in goodness. Wherefore imitate the manners of the bees: which, harming no one, nor plundering the property of others, fashion structures from flowers, but collect honey from the dewy moisture that lies upon the leaves of trees, and store it away in waxen cells. For, finally, the honey is more liquid which is first obtained, then, gradually as time proceeds ^D and it is digested, it returns to its own thickness and sweetness. Not undeservedly, therefore, do the bees attain the glory of such great praise, inasmuch as antiquity has called them laborious and wise. Thus they studiously store away their own sustenance, the use of which imparts remedies of health both to kings and to private citizens. And thus, because they wisely build granaries of honey. For they construct dense cells in a delicate membrane, contiguous to one another: that their condensation, tightened by the texture of a most delicate joining and supported as if by certain bolts, might contain the whole work. And each single vent is supported by another in a mutual, tight bond, and is separated by the most subtle partitioning of the compartments: which are arranged in two or three tiers above one another. For they did not prefer to construct the depths of the cavities straight or simple, lest the moisture, crowded by its own weight, might flow outside. Learn how the affectation of geometry is postponed, when compared to the wisest bees. For in six angles and as many sides, the pipes of wax are contained, nor are they, however, erect, lest the bottom should suffer, if it were void of the help of the junctures. But those six lower angles are held as seats and a certain foundation for what is placed above: by which they might support the weight placed upon them tolerably, and preserve the moisture hidden in the individual cavities.

5. Who, therefore, could be able to set forth all the properties of winged creatures? Or in what manner do cranes take up watches in turn by night, of which, while some refresh their bodies with sleep, others offer protection to them by watching? And when they have finished the time set for them to keep watch, they themselves, having given a clamor, begin to rest, while others succeed by lot. Yet they also maintain this order in flight, while in various turns they are compelled to fulfill the duty of leading. Storks certainly do not differ far from these, to whom a reasonable prudence has been bestowed. For at one time they all arrive together, and likewise under one sign they all depart together to distant places. Ravens favor them, which both escort them honorably as they depart, and, as it seems to me, provide them with help against certain birds that are about to fight. A certain proof of this matter is: first, because the raven is not seen at all at that time; secondly, that the wounded, when returning, demonstrate the most manifest signs of battles. Who, I ask, commanded them the laws of hospitality? Or who, under threat, instructed them not to abandon the storks placed in battle array from their company? Let avaricious men hear these things, who

denied

^A is, among the irrational birds, ^A preferred to frequent nuptials. The eagle is said to be unjust in rearing her own young. For having produced two, she strikes one with the beating of her wings [(d)] and casts it to the earth, while she cherishes the one she has kept. Thus, because of the scarcity of food, she is compelled to deny the one she brought forth, yet the ospray does not allow it to perish, but takes it up and applies it to its own young, and zealously feeds it. Such are some parents among men, who, alleging poverty, expose their own children, or establish an unequal share of inheritance between them. Since they have provided them with equal causes of birth, it would be just that they should also grant them an equal portion of living. Do not aim, therefore, to emulate the habits of birds of prey, which, when they see their young are now confident in flight [(e)], drive them headlong from their nests and cast them out, bestowing no care upon them thereafter. On the other hand, the affection of the crow toward its young is praised, for it follows them as they fly and provides them with food in abundance. Certain birds, however, do not make use of the help of males for feeding and cherishing their offspring. Some of them that fly higher are altogether sterile, like vultures, which they assert generate without copulation, especially since they are long-lived. For they affirm that their life continues for one hundred years. Let this part of the history concerning birds be noted by you, so that when you see some laughing at the ineffable mystery of the Catholic faith—that it should be a thing as it were impossible for a virgin to bring forth, the integrity of her virginity being preserved—you may bethink yourself that He who deigned to save those who believe through the foolishness of preaching ^B is the same who has provided us with countless proofs taken from nature for the credibility of miracles. ^C

7. *Let the waters bring forth the creeping things of living creatures, and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven.* They were commanded to fly above the earth for this reason, because the earth provides sustenance for all. And He said "under the firmament of heaven" because of the things we have discussed above. We must understand "heaven" here as being named from seeing (*cernendo*); in Greek it is called *ouranos* from *horasthai* (to be seen). For by comparison with the ethereal body, this air which is above us is made of the vapors of the earth, and becomes thick and coarse. You have, therefore, the sky adorned, the earth most beautiful, the sea most opulent, and the air filled with birds; all of which were brought forth from nothing into this life by the command of God. And there are many other things which I have now deliberately passed over, lest by lingering too long on these matters, I should appear to exceed the measure of my discourse. But do you, reflecting upon all these things for yourself, and intently inquiring into the wisdom of God which is held in all things, ^D

^A never fail to admire, and never cease to glorify the Creator. You have also nocturnal and diurnal winged creatures. For bats and owls are light-shunning. 747 So when sleep does not at all overcome you, the examination of their way of life and the nature of their existence will suffice to impel you to preach the wisdom of the Creator: how the nightingale keeps watch while sitting on its eggs, drawing out its song the whole night long; how bats are no less quadrupedal than winged, being the only ones among all birds known to have teeth; and they are said to bring forth their young, or to fly in the air not with feathers, but with a certain skin-like membrane. There is also among them a mutual and great affection by nature. For like certain threads of a fisher, they cling to one another in turns: a thing which, indeed, we see does not easily happen among men, some of whom, separated from the society of others, delight in singularity and solitude. How also those who are like them in their eyes are held to be professors of worldly wisdom. For their eyesight is indeed sharper in the night, but is blinded when the sun has risen, just as is the eye of those people when, being very sharp for contemplating the vanity of the senses, it grows dull toward the investigation of the true light. During the day, however, it is easy for you to draw admiration for the Creator from every side; just as the domestic rooster compels men to labor and work, and by crying out with a clear voice, signifies that the sun is approaching from afar. The genus of geese, too, how vigilant and foresighted is it held to be, and how quickly does it sense things that are attempted in secret? They are said to have delivered the city of Rome from the nocturnal treacheries of enemies: for those who were attempting to enter secretly through ^B obscure entrances to seize the citadel, they hasten to betray by their clamor. In which genus, moreover, does nature not display its own miracles throughout? Who informs the vultures of the future death of men, whom the swarms of vultures follow immediately when they are about to wage wars against each other, and who discern from the instruction or equipment of weapons what kind of outcome is to be expected? Which indeed is not far from human reason. How, too, shall I open to you the expeditions of locusts? Which, having set out from their homes under one sign, establish camps in a broad field, and do not touch the things set before them until a divine command is given to them. How also the merganser suffers an insatiable appetite for eating, through which it acquires remedies of health for the wounds of its own belly. O the admiration of celestial virtue! Which turns the madness of hunger to the use ^A of a healing remedy. How great, too, is the proportion in the singing of cicadas, which, pushed by the passage of air that flows through their chest as they breathe, resound more under the burning sun? But now I feel that our discourse is no less surpassed by the miracles of winged creatures than if I were to experience their agility myself, outstripping my own feet. Truly, ^B when you see bees and wasps, consider that they have no breath or lungs within them, but are always nourished by the air. Finally, if they are touched with oil, they immediately perish, as their breathing pores are blocked; but if you sprinkle them again with vinegar, they revive, the passages of their veins being opened, as it were. Thus, God has made nothing that might be redundant, or lacking for our needs. Again, if you wish to examine the genus of water-fowl, you will find in them a different disposition. For they do not have feet split like the raven, nor hooked like the eagle, but broad and webbed, so that by swimming they are easily borne upon the waves, repelling the water like certain oars with the labor of their feet. Likewise, if you consider how the swan, extending its throat on high, draws nourishment from the very bottom, then you will be able to note the wisdom of the Creator,

who for this reason gave it a longer neck than its feet, so that, stretching itself like a certain thread into the deep, it might find hidden nourishment.

8. Having looked simply at the words of Scripture, they seem to be: "Let the waters bring forth the winged creatures flying over the earth under the firmament of heaven." If the force of the words is considered, then the wonder-working of the Creator is declared, who long ago foresaw the future differences of birds, and distinguished them by their kind from Himself. The day will surely fail me if I wish to recount to you all the wonders of the air. Nevertheless, ^C the earth calls us to inspect beasts, and cattle, and serpents. For the genera of quadrupeds and bushes are ready to demonstrate things similar to the fish and winged creatures: "Let the earth bring forth the living soul." What do you say, you who do not believe the Apostle Paul regarding the resurrection, when you see, concerning certain creatures of the air, the transformation of their own form, such as the Indian worm, which is horned, first transforming itself into the likeness of a [i]wart, then becoming a butterfly, yet not persisting in that shape, but, with softer [j]and broader membranes, becoming a feathered, winged creature? Therefore, matrons, when you sit winding their works—that is, the threads which the Seres send here for the making of delicate garments—remember the refiguration of this animal, ^D

^A so that you may receive a clear example of the resurrection, and doubt nothing regarding the reformation of the body, which Paul explains. But I now feel that I am exceeding the bounds of the discourse. For if I were to look to the multitude of those who report these things, I would seem to have fallen into an infinite speech. But if I turn my eyes to the diversity of the creature, I do not believe I have even begun my narration. Nevertheless, it is not useful for you to pass over it hurriedly. For what will you do until evening? You are certainly not being pressed by guests, nor does the preparation of feasts warn us to leave, since it is a time of fasting. Therefore, if you please, let us turn the abstinence of the body into the pleasures of the soul. You have often obeyed your bodies; let us at least dedicate these days to the uses of our minds, as it is written: Delight in the Lord, and he will give you the requests of your heart (Ps. XXXVI, 4). If you love riches, spiritual wealth is ready for you, that is, the true judgments of God, justified in themselves, desirable above gold and precious stone (Ps. XVII, 10). If you are gluttonous and a lover of food, you have the words of the Lord, sweeter than honey and the honeycomb (Ibid.). Now, if I dismiss you and break up the gathering, some of you will soon run hurriedly to the game, wherein swearing and fierce contention and the greed of winning are found, and the obscene demon stands by, ^B now raising this one with the exultation of victory, and now showing that one as sad and arrogant. For what does it profit to fast in the body, if the mind is burdened with many thousands of evils? Furthermore, he who does not play with dice, but is idle—what vanities does he not pour forth from his mouth, or what detestable things does he not receive into his ears? Thus, idleness without the fear of God is the instructress of wickedness. And surely I presume that some utility is acquired by you from those things which we have spoken. But if it should be otherwise, nevertheless, the dwelling in such a place will render you void of sin. And the more we restrain you in the Church of the Lord, the more we separate you from evil thoughts. Sufficient are the things that we have discussed before a most just judge, if, however, he does not look to the copious riches of the creature, but to the smallness of our possibility, ^C or to the measure for taking present joy. Let this, therefore, be the end of the morning banquet, lest an over-abundant satiety cast into you a distaste for the evening feast. The Lord, indeed, who has filled all things with the abundance of his creation, and who in all the things of his wonders has provided for us eternal monuments, may he fill our minds with spiritual joy in Christ Jesus, to whom be glory and honor now and always, and unto ages of ages. Amen.

BOOK NINE.

1. Say, I ask you, what does our morning reflection seem to you to be? For I ^D like to compare our own insignificance to a needy man wishing to provide a feast, who, desiring to display the magnificence of his soul liberally, fails, held back by the lack of resources, and for this reason, whatever the poor preparation might be, he struggles to minister more amply, becoming a laughingstock to those invited. Thus it happens that the affected liberality does not lack the shame of reproach. And such is the case with us, if only you do not think otherwise; nevertheless, however our affairs may stand, they will not be diminished by you. For the guests of that time did not reject Elisha as an unworthy shepherd (IV Reg. IV, 39); and yet he refreshed them with humble herbs. Therefore, I hold certain known laws concerning allegory, not which I have made up of myself, but which I have learned from the volumes of others reviewed, through which those who acquiesce in agreeing with the common scriptures say that water is not water, but another certain nature, and that fish also, or serpents, or beasts, do not speak for the sake of the reason of truth, but comment according to their own arbitrary will—like interpreters of dreams, who, from various images seen in sleep, declare according to their own will what is to come. But I, when I hear of "grass," understand this according to what was said. Likewise, regarding fish or quadrupeds or shrubs, I perceive them as they were recounted: for I do not blush at the Gospel (Rom. I, 16). For although those who have written many things about the world have disputed certain things about the configurations of the earth, now designing it as like a sphere, now a cylinder, now a circle, and composed of equal parts on all sides, and being hollow in the middle—for into all such opinions of these cosmography writers, they have lapsed, [original-script column: see facsimile] by cutting down one another's dogmas. Yet I am not led to say that for that reason our interpretation seems inferior: since the servant of God discussed nothing about its configurations, and because he did not say that the earth holds a circumference of so many thousands of stadia, nor did he measure how much its shadow extends in the air when the sun conducts its own courses under the earth,

when it reaches the moon and brings about an eclipse of its light. He prudently refrained from all these things, knowing that matters which in no way pertain to us are useless. Therefore, ought we not to judge that spiritual words are far more precious than the vain assertions of philosophers, and instead glorify God who has liberated our mind from superfluous questions and arranged everything for the stirring up and edification of our souls? Hence, it seems to me that some who are ignorant of these matters, through wicked seductions and false persuasions, strive to attach a certain color of integrity to their own arguments through divine Scripture. What else is this to be understood as, than that these men profess themselves to be wiser than spiritual words, and build up their own sayings under the pretext of interpretation? Wherefore, as it is written, let it be understood: ^B Let the earth bring forth the living soul of cattle, and wild beasts, and reptiles.

2. Observe, therefore, the creative work of God running through all things. This, indeed, began long ago, but it is still working and hastening toward the end, until the world receives its consummation. For just as a ball, when pushed by someone and finding a downward slope, is carried along more quickly by its own rolling and the inclination of the ground, and cannot stop until it reaches the level plain, so the nature of things, stirred by the command of God, penetrating everywhere the creation of those things which are born and die, preserves the offspring of each kind equally through the similitude of itself, until it is able to reach the appointed term. For it makes horse to succeed horse, lion to succeed lion, and eagle to succeed eagle; and, keeping the succession of those that follow, it leads all things to the end and exit of all. For no time will be able to change the properties of living creatures, but as though nature were recently constituted, so it is carried along fresh with time. Let the earth bring forth the living soul. This command remained in the earth, and never ceases from serving the Creator. For it is not to be doubted that while certain things are born from the posterity of those that were first made, we see others being formed and brought to life from the earth even now. For it produces not only cicadas when watered by rains, or the many other thousands of winged creatures, the greatest part of which lack names on account of their insignificance; but we also see mice and frogs being generated from the earth. Finally, in the Egyptian Thebes, if the summer season pours forth heavier rains, the whole region is soon filled with infinite mice. It is also quite certain that eels are born from nothing other than mud, the kind of which neither an egg nor any other birth produces, but, as we have said, they derive their origin from the generation of slime. Let the earth bring forth the living soul. Cattle are all earthly; for this reason, they are inclined toward the earth. But the celestial plant, man, is different: who, just as he differs from cattle in the appearance of his form, so does he differ in dignity. ^D Their faces are bent downward, looking toward the belly, and what is pleasing to their desire, this they pursue: but your head is always raised toward heaven, your eyes look upon things above. But if you also corrupt yourself with the pleasures of the body, by obeying the luxury of the belly and its lower parts, you have become comparable to senseless beasts, and are made like to them (Ps. XLVIII, 13). But for you, there is another and far more noble concern: searching for things above, where Christ is (Col. III, 1). For it is fitting that you be carried higher than earthly things, so that as you were born, so you may arrange your own life. Let your conversation be in heaven (Phil. III, 20), your true fatherland is the Jerusalem above, you have as fellow citizens and comrades the first-born who are written in heaven (Heb. XII, 2).

3. Let the earth bring forth the living soul. Therefore, the animal, not long ago buried under the earth, suddenly leaped forth then ejected, but it was created at the same time as the command. There is one soul for them, and all beauty is placed in appearance: they are distinguished by various properties. Oxen are grave and constant, asses are dull, horses are hot with the desire of females. The wolf is untamed, the fox cunning, the deer timid, the ant industrious, the dog grateful and mindful of friendship; and to the births of each, the qualities of their characters are also adapted, just as anger is ingrained in the lion, and solitude of life, and the avoidance of those like it. For like a certain tyrant of the beasts, carried away by the vice of natural pride, it flees the association of others, nor does it feed on daily food, even if it might happen upon the remains of its own catch. Nature has provided this creature with a voice of overly great power, so that although certain quadrupeds are faster in running, they faint away terrified by its roar. The panther is fierce, and has a body quick in attack and fitting for the movements of its mind. The nature of bears is more sluggish, the mind harsh, deceitful, and covered (g) no less in bristles than in spite. But if, extending our discourse more broadly, we should wish to assert with what diligence the preservation of their own safety is provided to many animals without the tradition of anyone, perhaps we will be incited toward the study of our own protection: but I fear lest we be thought to be lesser even in imitating the beasts. A bear, often pierced by a lethal wound, uses all kinds of stratagems to be able to heal itself, especially by closing its own wounds with a certain herb which is by nature drier. Foxes also, more frequently...

^A with pine sap, are said to have brought themselves a remedy. The tortoise, moreover, when it has filled its belly with viperous entrails—a medicine which is contrary to the nature of serpents—is said to flee the plague of poisonous food. The serpent, indeed, extinguishes the most severe pains of its eyes by feeding on fennel. For who would believe that the foreknowledge of cattle concerning future changes in the heavens [A continued: (a)] surpasses that rational prudence? And so the sheep, when winter threatens, nips at the grass more eagerly, indicating as if it were refreshing itself more abundantly to endure the penury from the future storm. Oxen, however, when they have been shut indoors for a longer time during the winter season, sensing the disturbance of the air by natural intellect, all at once look outside from the stall while changing their countenances. Many men have indeed caught a land hedgehog that had made twin caverns 750 in its dens, so that when it is pressed by blasts of the north wind, it might move itself to the southern part, and again, when the south wind has blown, it might open the northern hole. What, therefore, does Scripture signify to us men through these signs? Not only that we might contemplate through all things how great is the indulgence of our Creator towards us, but that we might also consider that, since such exceeding providence for the future exists in many cattle, we ourselves ought not to contaminate ourselves with the pleasures of the present life, but direct our intention toward the age to come. Will you, therefore, O man, not labor in this world so that you might be able to store up for yourself the aids of future rest, when ^B you see the ant mindful of winter, zealously drawing food to itself during the time of summer? And it is none the less diligent because it does not yet experience the dangers of winter, but rather with all effort and vigilant care it labors and works, and by traversing everything it attempts to find how it might be able to store up sufficient food for itself; and with miraculous prudence it looks out, lest the species which have been collected should spoil. For it cuts the grain with its teeth, lest it begin to germinate and provide itself with useless fodder; and it even dries the seed itself in the sun if it has been moistened by the vapor [B continued: (c)] of the earth. Nor does it, however, always do this, but when it has sensed that there will be a stable serenity. In short, you will not see rains sent from the clouds until the ant has exposed the seed to be scorched under the sun. What speech, therefore, is able to grasp, what hearing to conceive, or what length of time will suffice to explain all these miracles? For which reason let us also say together with the prophet: "How magnified are thy works, O Lord! In ^C wisdom hast thou made them all" (Psal. CIII, 24). Therefore, that satisfaction will not profit us by which we think we can excuse ourselves, saying that we have not at all learned from letters what is expedient, since we are believed to have perceived the election of useful things through the magistracy of the law of nature. For you know the good that you ought to do to your neighbor, and the evil that you would not wish to be inflicted upon you by another. Clearly, no art of healing nor any use of herbs has taught cattle to seek out remedies, but every animal naturally knows how to consult for its own safety and to seize a diligent care for itself with native prudence.

4. ^D Yet, even among us, there are some kinds of virtues which we obtain not from the teaching of men, but from the tradition of nature. For just as no schooling instructs us to hate weakness, but we have a spontaneous horror toward all things that we believe to be harmful to us; so, too, there lies within the soul a natural duty to avoid what is harmful. Every evil, moreover, is a disease of the soul, and virtue brings with it the principle of health. Whence some persons have well established, asserting that health is the constancy of natural motions. And who will be adjudged to err in also proclaiming this in the vigor of the soul? For the soul is naturally always desiring its own, and therefore chastity is to be praised by the prudent, justice is to be sought, wisdom is to be followed, and fortitude is to be admired. These things are more familiar to the souls than health is to the bodies. "Parents, love your children: children, do not provoke your parents" (Ephes. VI, 4). Does not nature itself command this same thing? Paul therefore exhorts nothing new, but binds the bonds of nature more tightly. Such is its force in natural affection, that even a wolf fights for its cubs. What is a man to say, who both scorns the commandment and despises nature, when either a youth disfigures the grey hairs of his parent with injuries, or a father, having obtained a second marriage, saddens the children from a previous inheritance? The love of wild beasts is more natural between parents and children, since God, who created them, compensated for what He provided less in them regarding reason with the benefit of sense. From which it happens that while there are so many thousands of sheep present, a lamb released from the fold at once recognizes the voice of its mother, and runs to her exulting, and seeks the fountains of milk. And even if perchance the mother is considered more sterile, it is content with her alone and passes by others, even though they be copious and full. And the mother nonetheless recognizes her own offspring in such a great multitude. And certainly, the voice is one among the diverse, the color is one and the scent the same, as far as we are able to perceive.

^A A lioness becomes a mother: for while being born, the cub ulcerates the parts of the mother, just like the viper, which proceeds in no other way than by the belly of its mother being eaten through and rent asunder, repaying a fitting reward to its creator for such a birth. Thus, there is nothing in human affairs that is held to be improvident; nor is there any immunity for what is sufficient in diligence. But if you were to discuss the very limbs of the cattle more studiously, you will find that the Creator has given them nothing superfluous, and has denied them nothing necessary. For to the flesh-eating beasts He has given sharp teeth, since there was a need for such things for the tasks of their predetermined kind of nourishment. But to those for whom He established teeth in only one part, He disposed that there be receptacles for the many kinds of fodder, so that the part which was previously taken into the stomach might run back again to the teeth, so that it might crush it more easily by ruminating, and digest it without labor. Nor, in truth, ^B did He give the gullet and stomach to certain animals without cause, inasmuch as it provides necessary uses. Therefore, the camel for this reason has a long throat, so that, brought level with its feet, it might reach the food it seeks. But the neck of bears is short and suppressed by the shoulders, as likewise that of the lion and the tiger and similar wild beasts, for whom the food is not herbivorous, nor do they have any necessity to incline themselves toward the ground, inasmuch as they feed on flesh. What shall we say about the trunk of the elephant, for whom, since it is the greatest of all beasts and terrible to those who behold it, it was fitting that it should be formed with such immense limbs? If its neck had been proportionate to such magnitude, it would be held immobile, bowed downward by its very weight. But now, the neck and the head are joined to the spine by few bones, ^C and it has its trunk fulfilling the ministry of a longer neck for itself, which perceives the food and draws the water. And its feet are not joined by any joints of the knees, so that, like certain columns, they might support the gravity of the weight placed upon them. For if its legs had been slender and unsteady, there is no doubt that it would suffer frequent dislocations of the joints, as they would not be sufficient to lift such a great mass when it stands. And so you see how, like certain corporeal towers, they are placed before the battle line in time of war, or living mountains are set against the enemies to break their fortifications. If the foundations of its steps were not equal to their magnitude, such a mass of limbs could in no way be carried. It is said, ^D however, that the elephant lives for three hundred years and more, and by the ministry of its trunk...

provide it food, as we have said. It is like some winding and slippery serpent, coiling itself this way and that. Thus, the statement is true which asserts that nothing less, nothing superfluous is found in the creation of things. Yet God ordained that this very beast, enormous as it is, be subject to us: so that it might understand what it is taught, and endure when it is struck, clearly declaring that all things were subjected to us for this reason—because we were made in the image of God. And we are able to contemplate His inestimable wisdom not only in the largest animals, but also to consider the same miracles in the smallest creatures. For just as I never tire of admiring the peaks of great mountains—because, although they are near the clouds, they endure very heavy storms with constant winds—or, conversely, the hollows of caves—because they are accustomed not only to avoid the roaring of the winds by which high places are shaken, but also enjoy a perpetual [b] mildness: so too in the form of animals, I do not marvel so much at the vastness of the elephant as I do at the mouse, which is afraid of the elephant, or the most fine sting of the scorpion, which the wisdom of the artificer has perforated like a kind of pipe, so that through it he might inject poison into those wounded by him. But let no one on this account reproach the Creator, because He added poisonous beasts to our life. For so, too, would someone accuse the teacher of infants, who, compelling them to observe the duties of discipline, corrects their wantonness and insolence with threats and lashes. ^C

6. Furthermore, the confession of faith can instruct us to point out harmful things. For if you trust in the Lord, *you shall walk upon the asp and the basilisk, and you shall trample the lion and the dragon* (Ps. xc, 13). Recall, in fact, how Paul, when he was gathering wood and was wounded by the bite of a viper, received no injury: this happened, clearly, because that holiest of men [d] was held to be full of faith. But if you are faithless, you will not have to fear the serpent so much as your own infidelity, through which you yourself have made yourself liable to perdition. [e] But I feel now that I am being called upon by the debt of human birth, and I hear the voices of the hearers murmuring in their hearts, because we teach what *our* nature is, yet we are ignorant of ourselves. It is necessary, therefore, to remove that cloud which dims the senses of men: for in truth, of all causes, it is the most difficult to know oneself. For the eye alone does not ^D perceive what is held externally, nor is it able to gaze upon itself: but the mind itself, while it perceives the faults of others keenly enough, is tardier toward the recognition of its own vices; whence also even now the discourse [f] runs more quickly to the actions of others, and is considered duller and slower at examining what is within. And we cannot judge the Creator so much from the composition of the elements as from our own formation: if, however, each person wishes to look at himself prudently, as the prophet says: *Thy knowledge is become wonderful to me* (Ps. cxxxviii, 6); that is, while I gaze upon myself, I learn the virtue of Thy ineffable wisdom.

*And God said, Let us make man.* Where are the Jews now, who [g] in what follows, as if through certain caverns, while the light of the Deity was shining—and the second person, who is indeed mystically declared, was not yet clearly seen—resisted, saying that God was speaking to Himself, since He said and He did, *Let there be light, and there was light?* Their ineptitudes were indeed ready at hand, and those which are now brought forth by them are the same. For what ironworker, or carpenter, or tanner, remaining alone in his workshop, to whom no associate in his craft is present, says to himself, "Let us make a sword," or "Let us join together a plow," or "Let us fashion a shoe," and does not rather start the form which he has determined in his mind with silent intent? For it is vain babbling for anyone, like a judge or a censor, to strictly command something to himself. Although what would those who crucified the Lord not say, having tongues practiced in lying, even if the present voice has completely closed their mouths? And God said, *Let us make man.* Therefore, as long as there was no one present to be taught, the preaching of the Deity remained hidden in the deep. But when the creation of man began to be expected, faith was revealed, and the dogma of truth shone forth clearly. Listen, Jew, opponent of Christ, how He speaks to the partner of the cleansing, through whom He made the ages, who does all things by the word of His power: but your mind does not receive the words of piety. For just as wild beasts, when they are shut up in cages, tear the coverings of their bellies with their teeth, demonstrating their own bitterness, yet cannot satisfy their fury: so the Jew, an adversary of the truth, hemmed in by the restraints of his own bonds, asserts that there are many persons; to which he falsely claims the Word of God proceeded. For they say that He said to the angels: *Let us make man.* Truly a Jewish fiction, and a story worthy of their own perfidy.

Indeed! So that they may not accept the One, they confess many, ^A and they add the Son to their servants by participation of dignity, and make our fellow-slaves the authors of human formation, and wish to equate the creator of man with the angels, whereas it is absurd that any creature could be equal to the Creator. Let us consider also what follows: *Let us make man in our image.* What do you answer? Is the image of God and the angels one and the same? For it is necessary that it be the same for the Father as for the Son, yet in such a way that the figure is understood to be worthy of God—that is, ^B consisting not in a bodily habit, but in divine property. Listen also, you who advance with a new circumcision, commending the Jewish cult under the guise of Christianity. To whom does He say, *in our image* (Hebr. 1, 3), if not to the illumination of glory and the title of the Father’s substance, which is the image of the invisible God? He therefore speaks to His own image, He who said: *I and the Father are one* (John x, 30); and, *He who sees me, sees my Father* (John xiv, 9). To this one He says: *Let us make man in our image.* For where there is a unity of image, nothing can be dissimilar. For He did not say "in our images," as Scripture also testifies: *God made man,* it says: He did not say "they made." He prudently avoided a multitude of persons here: so that ^C where He might confound the Jew, here He might exclude pagan ritual. Therefore He mentioned the unity, so that you might recognize that the Son is together with the Father: and [so that you might avoid] the danger of declining into a multitude of persons. *God made man in His image.* Again, He introduces the person of one who cooperates. For He did not say: *He made in His own image,* but *in the image of God.* And in whom it is disposed for man to have the image of God, or how one receives the likeness of the Divinity, will be narrated in the following sections, the sense being bestowed by Christ; but now it suffices to have said that the image is one. But does it come into your mind to blaspheme so sacrilegiously as to say that the Son is dissimilar to the Father? O ungrateful soul! The likeness of God which you yourself have received, you do not suffer your Benefactor to have. And you wish that to be your own property which you received from heavenly grace, yet you do not allow that the image innate by nature is common to the Son with the Begetter. But now the evening hour commands us to be silent: the sun has long since declined toward its setting. Therefore let us here also end ^D the courses of our discourse, content with what has been said. For we have discussed just so much in the present as we could sharpen your intention. We shall render a fuller consideration of the proposed questions to you another time, with the Holy Spirit attesting. Go now rejoicing, and for your abundant feast and diverse fruits, furnish your tables with the memory of what has been related. Let the impious be confounded, let the Jew blush, let the just man exult in the preachings of the truth: let the Lord be glorified, now and always and for ages of ages. Amen.

969 AD HOMILIAS IN HEXAEMERON. MONITUM. 970

Some learned men have suggested to us that we ought to publish the notes of the most learned Ducaeus here; however, we warn that this will cause some inconvenience, as his notes frequently do not—and indeed cannot—align with our new edition, by reason of the new translation.

NOTES OF FRONTO DUCAEUS OF BORDEAUX, THEOLOGIAN OF THE SOCIETY OF JESUS

^A The works of Basil the Great, Archbishop of Caesarea, whom Suidas rightly calls "a man most eloquent and advanced to the pinnacle of all learning," had been published into Latin only by the Parisians thirteen years ago. We determined that certain notes should be appended to them, by which, through comparison with the Greek text, not a few passages were restored or illustrated in the translation; and now that this Greek-Latin edition is being prepared, we have deemed it worthwhile to revise and augment those same notes. For when the editors had received from England the Frobenian Greek edition of Basel (1552), which had been collated by certain most learned men with manuscript codices and adorned with various readings in the margin, they took care to augment the labors of those men with new diligence, and to have the books against Eunomius emended from the codices of the most Christian King, and new various readings for the remaining books of Basil gathered from them. While this was being done, it was simultaneously considered whether all things had been transcribed from the archetypes in good faith and with accuracy. But since the Latin translation of these same works had been corrected and emended by them only in the homilies on the Psalms and in a few passages of the commentaries on Isaiah, we deemed it necessary that we should attempt to illustrate his principal lucubrations with equal zeal, and to provide in these Notes the reasoning for everything that had been changed by us, and to revise anything that might have been less accurately considered while the press was running. For since one can hardly, in the many years of one's life, gauge the translation of the works of just one of the Fathers, the Church should not be kept waiting any longer for Greek-Latin editions of them; therefore, it is surely to be accepted as a good thing if the already received translations are set out alongside the Greek text, corrected. To accomplish this purpose more conveniently, we have been aided by a new resource: the immortal favor of the late and esteemed Nicolaus Faber, whose ancient translation of the nine homilies on Genesis has appeared, whom Cassiodorus commends with such high praise that he contends his talent was equal to his eloquence.

The title of these homilies in printed editions and manuscripts is ^B commonly *Eis ten Hexaemeron homilia*, or, as in the Medicean manuscript, *Tes Hexaemerou homilia prote*. Therefore, one must avoid the error of Henri Estienne, who in his *Thesaurus* contends that the space of six days in which the world was founded is called *to Hexaemeron* here; hence he calls Basil's treatise *Eis to Hexaemeron*. For the Fathers do not call it *to Hexaemeron* absolutely, but *homiliai Eis ten Hexaemeron*—which is to be understood as "cosmopoeia," or "demiourgia," meaning "concerning the creation of the world," or "of the work of the world completed in six days." Clement of Alexandria, *Stromata*, book VI: "For creation (*cosmopoeia*) is completed in six days." Philo Judaeus, *De vita Mosis*, book I: "Sacred allegories of the law after the work of the six days." Jerome, *De viris illustribus*: "Basil wrote excellent books against Eunomius, and nine homilies on the Hexaemeron." Sophronius translates into Greek: "Basil composed excellent discourses against Eunomius, and nine homilies *Eis ten Hexaemeron*." Item, in Hippolytus: "Hippolytus wrote *in Hexaemeron*," or in Sophronius's Greek, *Eis ten Hexaemeron*. Anastasius Sinaita, in the preface to his *Explanations on Genesis*: "*Peri ton en te Hexaemero pollois aporoumenon*," that is, "Concerning matters of which many are in doubt in the *Hexaemeron*, that is, in the creation of the six days." Photius, in his *Bibliotheca*: "We read the work of the blessed Basil *Eis ten Hexaemeron*," that is, "The work of six days, or concerning the architecture of the world." The collection of homilies itself is also called, or the *Book on the Work of the Six Days*, *He Hexaemeros*, as in Gregory of Nazianzus, Orat. 20: "When I handle his *Hexaemeron*, I am with the Creator." Jerome, *Epist. 55*: "Recently, Saint Ambrose compiled the *Hexaemeron* of Origen in such a way that he follows the sentiments of Hippolytus and Basil more." Bede, too, uses this title for his book on Genesis: *Hexaemeron, or a booklet on the creation of the six days*. Most ancient of all—