Latin Translation of Basil's Hexaemeron 6.11–7.6

The motion of the air too is governed by these same changes, as the new moon attests, which, often after a long spell of fair weather, suddenly stirs up masses of clouds and disturbances. The ebb and flow of the straits shows this too, as does the alternation of the Syrtes near the Ocean, which the inhabitants of those places report are driven according to the moon's phases. The straits too usually turn their streams gently to either side at all other times; but when the moon is born, they cannot rest at all, but always surge with violent agitation until the moon appears again, bringing calm to the stirred-up whirlpools. Likewise the western sea undergoes frequent advances and retreats, now washing the shores with its waves, now leaving them. So it is drawn back as if by certain breathings of the moon, and again overflows at its impulses. I have discussed these things to show the greatness of the lights, and because nothing of the spiritual precepts, not even a single syllable, can be idle, though the word has certainly disclosed nothing of the more hidden matters. For whoever does not idly examine their properties and powers can find by thinking many things about the size and distances of the sun and moon. Therefore each should rather blame his own weakness, so that the magnificence of creation may not be thought measurable by human words. But from the few things said, it is fitting to consider how great and of what kind are those we have passed over. So do not judge the moon with your eyes, but rather by reason, which can come nearer than sight to finding the truth. Old wives' tales and laughable ones have spread everywhere, that the moon is called from its seats by magic chants and drawn down to the earth. First, how can she, whom the Most High himself made firm, be moved by the force of songs? Then, what place would receive her as she descended? Yet do you want to take a proof of her greatness from small signs? The cities placed throughout the world are separated by long distances from one another. Their streets that face the East all receive the moon's light equally. Now, unless the moon were seen face to face by all of them, it would light up only those alleys placed opposite it, and would not visit at all those beyond its breadth, as coming at an angle. A lamp lit in a house also shows this: if many people stand around it, the shadow of those in front falls straight, while those of the others bend to either side. So, unless the body of the moon excelled in immensity and size, it would never reach all at once. For when it rises from the solstitial parts, it lights equally those who inhabit the cold region of the northern pole and those who live in the lower parts of the southern quarter under the zone of the sun, embracing them with its summer strength, and so gives us the surest sign of its greatness. Who, then, can contradict and claim that its body is not immense, when it stretches over so many and such great distances of lands? So much for the greatness of the sun and moon. May he who has given us the understanding to know from the smallest things of creation the infinite wisdom of the craftsman grant us also to receive from greater things the greatest thoughts about the Creator, although in comparison with him the sun and moon are believed to have the measure of ants. And therefore, although they are not worthy for the contemplation of the divine greatness to be taken from them, we seem to be instructed by certain [faint] and dim parables, as we sometimes compare smaller animals or plants with huge ones. But now let us be content with the series of what has been told: I giving thanks to him who granted me this small gift of a slender discourse, and you praising the giver of spiritual nourishment, who has fed you in the present as with barley bread, that is, with the slightness of our voice, and may he feed you in the future according to the measure of each one's faith, granting us the revelation of the Spirit (1 Cor 12:7); to whom be glory in Christ Jesus, now and always, for ages of ages. Amen.

"And God said, Let the waters bring forth creeping things with living souls, and flying things flying under the firmament of heaven." After the formation of the lights, the water too is filled with living creatures, so that this element also might be adorned. For the earth had long since received its fitting beauty from its own plants; heaven too had taken on the flowers of the stars and had been made lovely as with two eyes, that is, by the conjunction of the greatest lights. It remained that a proper adornment should be given to the waters as well. The command came, and at once lakes and rivers were made most abundant, each in its own kind and nature; the sea too was so filled with the brood of different swimming things that the muddy marshes and shallow pools did not keep the power of generating idle or ineffective. Frogs, flies, and gnats undoubtedly swarmed from them. For what is seen now is proof of what happened then. So all water was compelled to serve the creative commands. For the ineffable and magnificent power of God at once showed living and moving the life of creatures whose kinds no one can even describe, and the moment of quickening followed close on the command given to the waters. "Let the waters bring forth creeping things with living souls." Now for the first time breathing animals capable of sense are generated. For although shrubs and trees are said to live, since they have obtained the power of nourishment and growth, they are not to be understood as animate. And for this reason he said, "Let the waters bring forth creeping things." Every kind of swimming creature, whether it moves on the surface of the waves or dwells in the deep pools, has certainly received the nature of creeping, while its body is drawn through the water, although some use feet and steps. And though many of them are ambiguous, like seals, crocodiles, frogs, and crabs, yet swimming is chief for them. Therefore, "Let the waters bring forth creeping things." In these very brief words all kinds are contained. For what is not included in the command of creation? Whether you mention those that bear live young, that is, seals, electric rays, dolphins, and the like, or name the egg-laying ones, as are almost all kinds of fish. The word of command is small; rather, not a word but only a moment and impulse of will; but its meaning is as manifold as the differences among fish can be. To follow them all in words is no less laborious than if you tried to count the waves or to say how many jars the sea holds. "Let the waters bring forth creeping things." Among them are fish of the open sea and of the shore, of the deep and of the rocks, fish that go in shoals, monstrous ones, huge and tiny, and the greatest and the smallest are held under the same power of the command. When he said, "Let the waters bring forth," he showed how great the kinship of swimming creatures with water is. For if they are drawn out onto land for a little while, they die; for they have no breath by which they can take in the life-giving air. For as air is given to land animals, so water to fish. And the reason is plain: we have a porous and open lung, which, drawing air through the expansion of the chest, tempers the inner heat by ventilating it; but they have a folding partition at the throat, now taking in water, now pouring it out, which fulfils the office of breathing. Fish have their own lot and their own nature, a different food, and a fixed condition of life. Therefore none of the water creatures becomes tame, nor allows itself to be handled by human hands.

"Let the waters bring forth creeping things with living souls." He commanded the origin of each kind to be brought forth now as a kind of seed, for he kept the multitude for their offspring afterwards, when they would need to increase and multiply. So there is one class of those called shell-bearing, like conches, scallops, sea snails, and thousands of different oysters; and another of those called soft-shelled, that is, lobsters, crabs, and the like. There is also another class, of those called in Greek malakia, that is, whose flesh is softer and looser, like cuttlefish, octopuses, and the like. And among these again there is a great difference. For sea serpents, morays, and eels, which are born in muddy rivers and marshes, are joined by likeness of nature rather to venomous snakes than to fish. There is also another class of egg-layers and another of those that bear live young. The weasel-fish and the hake bear live young, and all those without scales, which the Greeks call selachia. And the greatest part of the sea monsters, the dolphins, and the seals bear live young; they are said, when frightened by some cause, to take their newborn young back into the womb to protect and cherish them. "Let the waters bring forth creeping things according to their kind." One kind is that of huge fish, another of tiny ones. And within these again there are many differences, divided according to the quality of the kind: they have their own names and distinct foods, unequal size of body, and are separated from one another by different form. Who, then, of the watchers for tunny could explain to us the difference among so many, although they claim that on seeing very great shoals of fish they can mark not only the kinds but even the number? And who among those craftsmen who live on the shores and grow old in seaside lodgings will be able to disclose to us precisely the knowledge of each? For those who fish in the Indian sea know some fish, and those who search the Egyptian sea others. The islanders know others, and the Moorish fishermen others. But that first command and ineffable power produced them all alike, the small and the greater. Great is the diversity of their way of life, and very great the distinction in the succession of each kind. Many fish do not sit on their eggs, as birds do, nor build nests, nor rear their young with labour; but the water receives the egg and makes a living creature; and in each kind the offspring remains unchangeable into another nature and unmixed; it is not as with the mules of the land or certain birds, whose stock is corrupted by adulterous mixing. No fish is armed with teeth on one half only, as we see sheep and oxen are; nor does any fish chew the cud except the parrot fish, as some have reported. All fish are thick-set with very sharp rows of teeth, so that their food, kept long in the mouth, may not flow away; unless it were torn and quickly passed to the belly, it would easily be lost and scattered by the waves.

Their food is fitted to each according to its kind. For some feed on mud; some are content with plants that grow in the water; but most are satisfied by devouring one another, and among them the smaller always becomes food for the greater. And if it happens that one who had caught a smaller is consumed by the bite of a stronger, both are thrown together into the one belly of the last. As if we human beings did anything else when we oppress our inferiors by power! Or how does a man who, inflamed with love of riches, has swallowed the poor he has caught in the insatiable jaws of his own greed differ from that last fish? Another man was holding the property of a poor man taken by force; you, surrounding him with threats and terrors, took a portion of the patrimony he had kept, and so you proved more unjust than the unjust and more grasping than the robber. Beware, then, lest the same end befall you as the fish: the hook, or the net, or the basket. For we too, defiled by wicked crimes, cannot escape the final punishments. Moreover, having learned that tricks and snares lurk even in weak animals, I would have you escape the frauds of the crafty. They say the crab desires the flesh of the oyster, whose capture is difficult for it because of the covering of shells with which nature has enclosed the softness of its flesh; that is why it is called shell-skinned. So, because the shells are hollow, the oyster, folding them together, easily defends its inner parts, and so the attacker's assault is made vain. What, then, does the enemy contrive? When he sees the oyster in sunny places gladly opening itself to the sun, he takes a small pebble and secretly places it beside it, so that because of the obstacle the oyster cannot close its coverings; and so what he could not achieve by strength he obtains by cunning. This, then, is the wickedness of creatures that have neither reason nor any voice. But I want you, having contemplated the crab's profitable contrivances, to abstain from harming your neighbours. For such is one who goes to his brother with a deceitful mind, or lays waste the goods of his relatives, or delights in others' misfortunes. Stop, then, imitating what is condemned; for poverty with truth is preferred by the wise man to the greatest wealth. I will not pass over the cunning of the deceitful and thievish octopus, which, when it embraces a rock with its outstretched tentacles, takes on its colour; and many fish, swimming up there unwarily as if drawing near a plain rock, are deceived and at once offer themselves to the wicked creature as an easy catch. Such are those who constantly fawn on the powerful and change with the variability of their minds; not keeping to one purpose, they show themselves now one thing and now another, practising modesty with the chaste and luxury with the lustful, and in general adapting their manners to whatever each person's mind may be. They are hard to avoid, because of the wickedness that lurks hidden in the pretence of service. The Lord called such men ravening wolves, pretending to be simple sheep in their clothing (Matt 7:15). Flee, then, such variability of character, and pursue rather truth, sincerity, and innocence; for the viper too is spotted, and for this the Lord condemned it to creep on its belly. The righteous man has nothing feigned, like Job; therefore the Lord "makes those of one manner dwell in a house" (Ps 68:6). "This is the great and wide sea; there are creeping things without number, living things small and great" (Ps 104:25). Yet there is in them a wise and measured arrangement. So we must not blame all fish, but also praise and imitate some of them. For see how each kind keeps to the regions assigned to it; none occupies the territory of another, but each is content with its own seats. And certainly no surveyor distributed dwellings for them to defend, nor marked them out with walls, nor set boundaries to be observed; but the benefit was given to all in common. For this bay feeds one kind of fish, that one another; and those that abound in this place are less plentiful on other shores, not because they are separated by rugged mountain ridges or kept from crossing by intervening rivers, but because the law of nature, supplying to each equally what is necessary as each one's use requires, has bound all by the observance of its decree.

But we are not like this: for we boldly overstep the boundaries of our ancestors, cross the glades of our neighbours, join house to house and field to field, and mutilate the rights of others (Prov 22:28). The sea monsters know the lodging granted them by nature, which is situated in the farthest parts of the sea, where no land at all is seen, and which is entirely unnavigable. For what it is like has not been learned even from historical report, since no one dares to cross there. In this place, then, these monsters, which are as large as mountains, dwell, troubling neither cities nor islands. So each kind is compelled to inhabit its own home in the stations given it by nature, as in regions of the earth. Certain fish, as if by a common decree of citizens, are sent out abroad and take up the labour of travelling; all at once, as if at a given signal, they depart to distant places. For when the season for spawning begins, roused by the laws of nature, some from one bay and some from another soon set out toward the parts of the northern sea. When you see them returning, packed in the densest mass, you will think a most violent torrent is flowing past along the shore of the Propontis, as they pass on to the Euxine Sea. Who, then, drives them on? What authority of a ruler? What edicts posted announce the time appointed for them? Who are their leaders? Do you not see the divine ordering filling all things and spread even through these small ones? Fish do not resist the laws of God, and men do not receive saving teaching. Do not despise fish because they are mute and irrational; fear rather that you may be judged more irrational than they, resisting the commands of the Creator. Listen to the fish, who lack only the uttering of a voice; for by certain signs they are seen to be rational, since for the sake of the immortality of their kind they are compelled to undergo a longed-for journey. They do not use words, but they have the law of nature clinging firmly to them and showing 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, lingering there a short time, does not draw up with its rays all the drinkable waters." For sea creatures too delight in sweeter waters; so fish are often seen coming from far off the sea and going up through the rivers. Therefore they seek the Pontus more gladly than other bays, because it is more convenient for them for producing and rearing their offspring. When they have sufficiently done what they intended, they all return home together in crowds. And what the reason is, let us hear from these silent ones. Because the northern sea is shallow and sloping, and therefore exposed to the violence and stirring of winds: when storms arise it is shaken from its very bottom, so that the sand from below is sometimes mixed with the topmost waves. It is also very cold in winter, since it is filled with many very great rivers. When they have enjoyed it in the summer months, frightened again by the harshness of the coming winter, they betake themselves to the deeper places of the sea, which are calmer.

I have watched these things and marvelled at the wisdom of God: that irrational animals are provident guardians of their own safety and understand what is fitting and what is harmful for them. What, then, shall we say, who are honoured with reason, invited by promises, instructed spiritually, yet arrange our affairs more irrationally than fish? They have even a concern for knowing the future; but we, corrupted by unbelief in the age to come, spend our life in the foulest acts and unlawful pleasures. Fish run across so many stretches of sea to find what is useful. What will you say at last, with sloth clinging to you, which is the prince of wickedness? Let no one plead ignorance: natural reason is implanted in us, both for seeking the friendship of good things and for avoiding the harm of hurtful ones. I will not depart from the examples of sea creatures, since we have set these examples before us to examine. I heard one of the shore-dwellers report that the sea urchin, though most worthless and contemptible, often becomes for sailors a sign of coming calm or storm. For when it senses that blasts of wind are imminent, it places itself under a stone and, supported by it as by the fluke of an anchor, avoids the shaking of the storm; it lets itself be pressed down for a while by the weight above it, provided it is not tossed by the waves. When sailors see this sign, they know that the roaring of the winds will soon be stirred up. And certainly no astrologer or Chaldean, gathering the quality of the air from the rising of the stars, taught the sea urchin; but the Lord of the winds and storms has stamped clear traces of his magnificent wisdom even on this tiny animal. So nothing is improvident, nothing neglected, with God: that sleepless eye watches over all things and is present to all, bringing remedies of salvation. If he has not left the sea urchin without a share in his care, will he not look upon you and your affairs, O man? "Husbands, love your wives" (Eph 5:25). Even if a long stretch of lands between you should seem to separate you for a time, yet let the covenant of nature and the yoke of blessing be for you an undivided union. The viper, though the fiercest of serpents, goes to mate with the moray, and, signalling by its hissing that it has come, calls her out of the depth of the sea to come to the marriage union; and she at once obeys and is joined to it. What, then, does this discourse want? That even if a husband is harsh and held to be fierce in character, the wife must still bear him, on no pretext breaking the bond of affection once contracted. "But," you say, "he is quick-tempered or cruel." Yet he is your husband. "A drunkard." Yet he is joined to you by nature. "Hard and implacable." Yet he is the more precious part of your body.

Let the husband too hear the admonition that suits him. The viper spews out its deadly poison out of reverence for the marriage; will you not lay aside the fierceness and bitterness of your mind, compelled by the modesty of marriage? Perhaps we shall also find the example of the viper fitting for us in another way, since the union of the viper with the moray is rather an adultery of nature. Let those, then, who lay snares for other people's marriages recognize to what kind of beast they are compared. So there is always some purpose by which the church may be built up; and for this reason I urge that the lusts of the shameless cease, being chastised by the examples of sea and land. Here both the evening hour and the weakness of my body compel me to end my discourse. For there would be many things that we ought to add to our treatment, especially since the hearers are eager, about the things born in the sea that are most worthy of wonder, or about the sea itself: how its water is congealed into salt; or how that precious stone called coral is a plant while it is in the sea, but as soon as it has been brought out of it into the air is changed into stone; or why nature has placed in the most worthless of creatures, oysters, the pearl of great price, so that the poor fisherman finds, shut up in a shell along the shore and the rough crags, what kings greatly desire; or why sea pinnas nourish a golden wool; or why the shellfish supply emperors with purple, which surpasses the beauty of all flowers by the loveliness of its colour. "Let the waters bring forth." What was made that is not necessary? Or what was given that is not best for our life? Part of them serves the needs of human beings; other creatures claim wonderful contemplation for themselves; some are terrible, to restrain our sloth. "God made the great sea monsters": not that it is called great because it is larger than other small fish, but because by the hugeness of its limbs it equals lofty mountains, and is often thought to be an island when it raises itself to the surface by gentle swimming. Yet it does not dwell on frequented shores or in inhabited places, but is said to inhabit the Atlantic sea. Such beasts, then, were formed to inspire fear and terror in us. And when you hear that a tiny fish so slows and holds back huge ships, swelling with the fold of their sails and flying over the sea with a favourable wind, that they are made motionless for a long time, as if fixed by roots in the deep, will you not take from this smallest animal too a proof of the divine power? For not only the dogfish or the swordfish or the whale is to be feared for its form; but the sting of the stingray, even when dead, and the sea hare are guarded against with equal fear, carrying swift and unavoidable destruction. This being so, the Creator's providence wanted you always to be watchful, so that, trusting in him, you might escape all harmful plagues. But now, coming back from the depths of the sea, let us return to the land. For the wonders of creation, meeting us one after another, have like waves with frequent and alternate tossings swamped our discourse. And I shall wonder indeed if our mind, occupied with greater matters, does not flee again to the land, as Jonah fled into the sea. So the course of our discussion, entangled in many thousands of wonders and forgetful of its own measure, seems to me like those sailing on the deep who, not steering their course to a fixed place, do not know how much distance they have covered by sailing. We have proved that this is what has happened to our discourse, which, while it wanders widely through the paths of creation, does not grasp the multitude of things related. But although the assembly of those present is eager to hear, and the account of the Lord's wonders seems most delightful to their hearts, we here make an end of speaking, intending on the next day to pay the rest of the interest. Now let us all together give thanks for what has been said, and ask for the supply of what we have explained too little; and may he make you remember even at your meals what our address brought forth in the morning or in the evening, and may the memory of it cling to you even when you rest in sleep, and may you chew over in the night too the sweetness you received by day, so that you may say, "I sleep, and my heart is awake" (Song 5:2), meditating day and night on the law of the Lord, to whom be glory and honour, now and always, and for ages of ages. Amen.