Latin Translation of Basil's Hexaemeron 8.1–8.8

"And God said, Let the earth bring forth the living soul according to its kind: four-footed animals, and creeping things, and beasts according to their kind. And it was so." The command came, advancing step by step, and the earth received its own course. There he commanded the waters to bring forth creeping things with living souls; here, "Let the earth bring forth the living soul." Do you think, then, that the earth is animate, and will room be given to the foolish-talking Manichaeans to grant a soul to the earth? By no means: because he said "Let it bring forth," it did not bring out what was in it; rather God, who gave the command, also gave the earth the power to bring forth. For when it heard that it should sprout the grass of hay and the fruitful tree, it did not bring forth only grass of hay hidden within itself, nor did it bring up palms, oaks, or cypresses hidden in its bosom; but the divine word is truly the creator of growing things. "Let the earth sprout": not that it should bring out what it had, but that it should receive what it did not have, God supplying it with the power of working. So too now: "Let it bring forth a soul": not one stored up in the earth, but one conferred on it by God through his command. Then the argument can be turned against the Manichaeans: if the earth brought out the soul it had, it was itself left soulless. But their detestable teaching is well known. Let us see rather why the waters were commanded to produce creeping things with living souls, but the earth a living soul. We think, then, it is because the nature of swimming things is thought to have a life in some way imperfect, because the waters are thicker. For indeed hearing is slower in animals living in water, and sight duller, since they see through water; and they have no memory, no imagination, no recognition of those near them. The divine word, then, declares that the bodily life of water creatures governs the movements of their soul. But in land animals, which have received a more perfect life, the soul holds the rule over the body. For their senses are livelier, and these animals, while taking the greatest care of present things, also carefully keep the memory of past ones. So we must consider that the water produced bodies of fish that are animate (for it produced "creeping things with living souls," as Scripture shows), but in land animals a soul ruling the body was commanded to be generated, since they received more of life-giving power. Although land animals too are irrational, yet each of them signifies much about the feeling of its soul by its natural voice. For they show by their voice gladness and grief, hunger, separation from their own, and various troubles, while water creatures are not only mute but also untameable and unteachable, and utterly unmanageable by human beings for any fellowship of life. "The ox knows its owner, and the ass its master's crib" (Isa 1:3); but a fish could never recognize the one who supplies its food. The ass understands even the accustomed voice of a man; it knows the road it has often walked, and sometimes becomes a guide to its driver when he has lost his way; it is so keen of hearing that none of the land animals can be compared to it. The camel always has a tenacious memory of injuries, and is heavy and persistent in anger. If it has been struck, it hides its pain for a long time, and when it finds an opportune time, it at once repays the injury done to it. But none of the sea monsters imitates it. Hear, then, angry men, who cultivate the remembrance of an injury received long ago as if it were the greatest virtue, what beast you are like, when you keep your own bile in your hearts like a spark buried in ash, until, finding an occasion, you stir up the stings of resentment, like a little fire fed with tinder, into a flame.

"Let the earth bring forth the living soul." Why does the earth produce the living soul? So that you may learn the difference between the soul of a beast and that of a man. A little further on you will learn how the soul of man was constituted; but now hear about the soul of dumb animals: that according to Scripture the soul of every animal is its own blood. And blood when congealed usually turns into flesh, and flesh when corrupted returns to earth. Rightly, then, the soul of beasts of burden is perishable. "Let the earth bring forth the living soul." See the sequence of soul to blood, blood to flesh, flesh to earth. And again, undoing these, go back through the same steps, from earth to flesh, from flesh to blood, from blood to soul, and you will find that the soul of beasts is earth. Do not think it older than the substance of their body, nor expect it to survive when the body is dissolved. Flee the anxious chatter of the philosophers who are not ashamed to assert that their own souls and those of dogs have a like form. For they even profess that they were once women, fish, and shrubs. But if they ever were fish, which I would not believe, yet while they wrote these things they were more irrational than fish. "Let the earth bring forth the living soul." Why, while my discourse was running on freely, I suddenly fell silent for some time, I think some of those present are wondering; although I do not think the most attentive hearers are ignorant of the cause of the silence, since by glances and nods to one another they have brought us back to the memory of what we left out. For we nearly passed over undiscussed a certain part of creation, and not the least. "Let the waters bring forth creeping things with living souls according to their kind, and flying things flying under the firmament of heaven." We spoke above about swimming creatures, as far as the evening time allowed; today we are passing to the examination of land animals. But meanwhile, in the middle of our account, the birds escaped us. So we must imitate forgetful travellers who, when they have left something precious at an inn, go back, though they have covered the greatest part of the road, bearing the labour their negligence deserves; so we too must return by the same path by which we came. For what we left out is not contemptible, being the third portion of the animal creation. For there are three kinds of animals: of land, of air, and of sea. "Let the waters," it says, "bring forth creeping things with living souls according to their kind, and flying things flying under the firmament of heaven according to their kind." Why, then, did he give birth to the birds too from the element of the sea? Because there is a kind of kinship between birds and fish. For as fish cut the water with the motions of their fins, pressing forward, and direct their turns with the rudder of the tail, so birds are believed to break through the air with their wings as if swimming. Since, then, both kinds have the one property of swimming, the same kinship from the water belongs to them. Their difference is this: no bird can be without feet, since they get their food from the earth and so necessarily enjoy the service of feet. To the birds of prey sharp claws are also given, suited for carrying off their prey; to the others the service of feet is given both for seeking food and for the rest of the management of life. A few birds have useless feet, suited neither for walking nor for hunting, like swallows and bee-eaters, whose food is supplied only from the air. But the swallow usually flies low and almost touches the ground, so that by this it seems to make up for the use of feet.

There are indeed many kinds. If anyone wished to describe them in the way we partly described the multitude of fish, he would find one general name for all birds, but very many differences among them in form, size, or colour. For they are distinguished by a very great diversity of habits, activities, and food. Some have chosen to use various names for them, so that by unusual marks of new and unheard-of naming the property of each kind of bird might be recognized. But for us the meaning is sufficient for contemplating the quality of each kind, together with the common usage of Scripture, which distinguishes clean and unclean. For one kind is that of those that eat flesh, with a form suited to their habits: they have curved claws, a hooked beak, and swift flight, so that the prey may be caught more quickly and, torn by their feet, provide easy food to the captor. Another species is that of those that feed on seeds, and another of those that take for food whatever chance offers. And among these again there is a very great difference. For some are gregarious, the birds of prey excepted, none of which associates with others except for mating. Others live in common, like doves, starlings, cranes, and jackdaws; of these some have no leaders and govern themselves, others are held under direction, like cranes. There is also another distinction among them, by which you may see some to be migrants and others natives. Some, compelled by winter, depart abroad for the sake of food. Very many become tame and patient, except the weaker ones, which because of their excessive timidity cannot bear the handling of a hand. Some live among human beings, dwelling in the same houses with them; others delight in lonely places, like mountains. There is also among birds a great difference of voices, and each has its own property. For some are talkative and chattering, others silent; some tuneful and loud, others shrill, with no song at all. Some are naturally imitators or are trained by human teaching. Others have a single, never-changing sound of voice. The cock is wanton, the peacock attentive, the dove lustful, as is the domestic hen. The partridge is crafty and jealous, and sometimes maliciously helps hunters in the capture of others. And in general there is a manifold distinction of activities and habits among them.

There are also certain civic animals, if indeed it belongs to civic life to bring the work of individuals to one common end, as can be seen in bees. They have a common dwelling and a common flight, one labour for all, and, what is greatest, each carries out its own task under kings and leaders. They do not dare to seek the open fields before they have seen their prince take flight. Their king is not appointed by the people, for the votes of an unskilled multitude often raise the unworthy to the summit of rule; nor is the kingship granted by lot, for the outcomes of the urn are irrational and often award the insignia of power to the lowest; nor are the royal sceptres handed down by inheritance from parents, since the children of princes are easily corrupted by pleasures and luxuries and become senseless and foolish. Rather, by the judgment of nature, the one who is worthy receives the insignia of rule, surpassing the others no less in size of body than in gentleness of character; and he has a sting, but does not use it to harm others. So nature has silently prescribed certain laws for them, by which they are restrained from inflicting torments on suppliants. But the bees themselves, if they have not followed the ordinances of their rulers, are punished by their own repentance; for if they sting someone, they leave their life together with the sting in the wound. Let Christians hear this, who are commanded to repay no one evil for evil, but to overcome evil with goodness. Imitate, then, the ways of bees, which, troubling no one and seizing no one else's property, build their combs from flowers, and store in waxen cells the honey gathered with their mouths from the dewy moisture that settles on the leaves of trees. For the honey that is first gathered is more liquid; then, gradually, as time goes on, it is digested and returns to its own thickness and sweetness. Not undeservedly, then, do bees obtain the glory of such praises, since antiquity called them laborious and wise. So diligently do they store their own food, whose use gives remedies of health to kings and private persons alike. And so wisely do they build their storehouses of honey. For in a thin membrane they build close-set cells adjoining one another, so that their density, held together by the finest texture of joining and supported as if by certain bars, contains the whole work. Each opening, bound by a mutual tie, is supported by another and shut off by a very fine partition of compartments, which are arranged in two or three layers above one another. For they did not choose to make straight or single depths of cavities, lest the liquid, pressed by its own weight, should leak out. Learn how the pursuit of geometry is surpassed when compared with the most wise bees. For the tubes of the wax are bounded by six angles and as many sides, and yet they are not set straight on one another, lest the bottom should be strained if it lacked the help of joints; but those six lower angles serve as a seat and a kind of support for those placed above, so that they may bear the weight above them tolerably and preserve the liquid stored in each cavity.

Who, then, could carefully set forth all the properties of birds? Or how cranes take turns keeping watch at night: while some of them refresh their bodies with sleep, others protect them by keeping awake; and when these have completed their appointed time of watch, they give a cry and begin to rest, while others succeed by lot. They keep this order in flight too, being obliged in turns to fulfil the task of leading. Storks are not far from these, endowed with a reasonable prudence. For they all arrive at one time, and likewise at one signal all depart together to distant lands. Crows accompany them, escorting them honourably as they set out, and, as it seems to me, giving them help when they are about to fight against certain birds. Of this there is sure proof: first, that the crow is not seen at all at that time; then, that they return wounded, showing very plain signs of battles. Who, I ask, commanded them the laws of hospitality? Or who ordered them under threat not to abandon the storks with their company when they were ready for the march? Let greedy men hear this, who deny kindness to strangers who arrive, shut their doors, and do not allow them to come under their roofs at night or in winter. And the generosity shown to old storks by the young would be enough to make the children of men lovers of their parents, if they chose to notice it. For who is so foolish as not to think himself branded with disgrace when he is ranked below irrational birds in the practice of filial piety? They stand around their parents, worn out with age, whose feathers have fallen out from age, and warm them with their own plumage, bring them food, and in flight, as far as they can, put themselves beneath them on this side and that, relieving the weariness of old age by supporting them with their wings. This has become so widely known among all nations everywhere that today the repayment of a kindness received is called among the Greeks antipelargosis. Therefore let no one, excusing himself on the pretext of poverty, despair of his own life, even if he has no means at home, when he contemplates the ingenious swallow. In building its nest it carries straw in its mouth, but being unable to carry mud with its feet, it wets the tips of its wings in a river, and then, rolling in dust, seems to supply the use of mortar. Little by little, joining twigs to one another with mud placed between, as if with glue, it rears its chicks. If anyone gouges out their eyes, their mother has a medicine handed down to her by nature, by which she soon restores the sight of her young to health. These things will urge you not to turn to wickedness on the occasion of want, nor, placing your hope of living in the worst arts, to become empty of goodness and without share in it; but to flee to God, who, since he has given such great things to the swallow, how much greater things will he give to those who implore him with the whole intention of their mind? The halcyon is a small bird accustomed to breed on the sea shores; it lays its eggs on the very sand at the time when the sea is stirred by many heavy blasts of wind; yet all storms and tempests are then calmed for seven whole days, during which this bird is said to sit; and for the rearing of the chicks, after they have come out of the eggs, God, the giver of great things, added another seven days, which sailors observe carefully and call halcyon days. These things are prescribed for you, so that you may pray to God without doubting for saving remedies. For what wonderful thing would not be done for your sake, who were made in the image of God, when you see the greatest and most fearful sea, for the sake of a tiny bird, made calm in stormy weather, bridled by divine command?

They say that the turtledove, if it is ever separated from its mate by some mishap, never unites with another, but, the memory of its first marriage remaining, refuses the contract of a second union. Let women hear how among irrational birds the continence of widowhood is preferred to repeated marriages. The eagle is said to be unjust in rearing its own young. For when it has hatched two, it beats one with blows of its wings and throws it to the ground, and keeps and cherishes the other. So, because of scarcity of food, it is compelled to disown the one it begot. Yet the bone-breaker does not let it perish, but takes it up, adds it to its own chicks, and nourishes it carefully. Such are some human parents, who on the pretext of poverty expose their children, or do not set an equal share of inheritance among them. Since they gave them equal causes of being born, it would be just for them to give them also an equal portion for living. Do not, then, imitate the ways of birds of prey, which, when they see their chicks now confident in flight, drive them headlong out of the nests and throw them out, bestowing no further care at all on them. On the other hand, the affection of the crow for its young is praised: it follows them when they fly and supplies food generously. Certain birds do not use the help of males in rearing and cherishing their young. Some of those that fly higher are altogether without intercourse, like vultures, which they say generate without mating, especially since they are long-lived; for they affirm that their life lasts a hundred years. Let this part of the history of birds, then, be noted by you, so that when you see some people laughing at the ineffable mystery of the catholic faith, as if it were impossible and contrary to nature for a virgin to give birth while her virginity was kept intact, you may consider that he who deigned to save those who believe through the foolishness of preaching has also provided us with countless reasons drawn from nature for faith in wonders.

"Let the waters bring forth creeping things with living souls, and flying things flying above the earth under the firmament of heaven." They were commanded to fly above the earth because food for all comes from the earth. He said "under the firmament of heaven" because of what we discussed above. "Heaven" we must understand here as named from "seeing": for in Greek it is called ouranos, from horasthai. For in comparison with the ethereal body, this air above us is made condensed and thick from the vapours of the earth. You have, then, the sky adorned, the earth most beautiful, the sea most rich, the air filled with birds: all of which were brought from nothing into this life by God's command. And there are many other things that the discourse has now deliberately passed over, lest by lingering longer on the same things it seem to exceed the measure of discussion. But you, reckoning all these things over with yourself and searching intently for the wisdom of God that is in all things, never cease from wondering at his delights and glorifying the Creator. You have also birds of night and of day. Bats and owls shun the light. So if ever sleep does not overcome you, the examination of their way of life and the property of their living will suffice to move you to proclaim the wisdom of the Creator: how the nightingale keeps watch as it sits on its eggs, drawing out its song all night long; how bats are no less four-footed than winged, the only ones of all birds known to have teeth; they are said to bear live young, and to fly in the air not with feathers but with a kind of skinny membrane. They also have by nature a great mutual love for one another; for like a fisherman's chain they cling to one another in links, something we see does not easily happen among human beings, some of whom, separated from the company of others, delight in singularity and solitude. How too the professors of worldly wisdom are like the eyes of owls: for their sight is keener at night but is blinded when the sun has risen, just as these men's sense, though very sharp for contemplating vanity, is dull for the search of the true light. By day it is easy for you to draw wonder at the Creator from every side: how the domestic cock drives men to their labours and works, and, crying out with a clear voice, announces the sun coming from afar. And how watchful and provident the race of geese is, and how quick to sense secret attempts! They are said once to have saved the city of Rome from the night ambush of enemies who were trying to enter secretly by hidden approaches and to seize the citadel; the geese quickly betrayed them by their cackling. In what kind does nature not show its own wonders everywhere? Who announces to vultures the coming death of men? When men are about to wage war against one another, flocks of vultures at once follow them, and from the array and equipment of the arms they understand what outcome there will be. This is not far from human reasoning. How shall I tell you of the expeditions of locusts? At one signal they go out from their own homes and pitch camp in a broad plain, and do not touch what lies below them until the divine command is given them. How too the cormorant suffers an insatiable appetite for eating, by which it gains a remedy of health for the wounds of its belly. O wonder of heavenly power, which has turned the madness of hunger into the use of medicine! And how much reason there is in the songs of cicadas, which sound more loudly under the burning sun, driven by the drawing of the air that slips through their chest as they breathe! But now I feel that our discourse is no less overcome by the wonders of birds than if I tried to outrun their swiftness with my own feet. When you see bees and wasps, consider that they have no breath or lung, but are always nourished from the air. If they are touched with oil, they die at once, since their breathing passages are closed; and if you sprinkle them again with vinegar, they revive, the passages of their veins being opened. So God has made nothing superfluous and nothing lacking for our benefit. Again, if you wish to examine the kind of water birds, you will find another arrangement in them. For they do not have split feet like the raven, nor hooked ones like the eagle, but broad and webbed, so that they may easily float on the waves, pushing back the water with the strokes of their feet as with oars. And if you consider how the swan, stretching its throat on high, draws its food from the very bottom, you will be able to notice the wisdom of the Creator, who gave it a neck longer than its feet for this reason, so that, reaching down into the deep as if letting down a line, it may find the food hidden there.

Looked at simply, the words of Scripture seem to be a few syllables: "Let the waters bring forth flying things flying above the earth under the firmament of heaven." But if the force of the words is considered, then the wonder-working of the Creator is declared, who long foresaw the future differences of birds and distinguished them from one another according to their kind. The day would surely fail me if I tried to tell you all the wonders of the air. But the earth calls us to look at beasts, cattle, and serpents. For it is ready to show kinds of four-footed animals and plants like the fish and birds: "Let the earth bring forth the living soul." What do you say, you who do not believe the apostle Paul about the resurrection, when you see certain creatures of the air change their own shape, like the horned Indian worm, which first transforms itself into the form of a caterpillar, then becomes a cocoon, and does not stay in that shape either, but, growing feathers of softer and broader membranes, becomes winged? So you, ladies, when you sit unwinding their works, that is, the threads that the Seres send here for making delicate garments, remember the transformation of this animal, so that you may take a clear example of the resurrection, and may not doubt at all the remaking of the body that Paul expounds. But I feel that I am exceeding the measure of discussion. For if I look at the multitude of things related, I shall seem to have slipped into infinity in my speech; but if I turn my eyes to the diversity of creation, I think I have not even made the beginning of the account. Yet it is not useful to let you go in haste. For what will you do until evening? You are certainly not pressed by guests at a meal, nor does the preparation of banquets warn you to go away, since it is a time of fasting. So, 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 assign these days to the uses of the soul, as it is written: "Delight in the Lord, and he will give you the requests of your heart" (Ps 37:4). If you love riches, spiritual wealth is at hand for you, that is, "the judgments of God, true, justified in themselves, more desirable than gold and precious stone" (Ps 19:9–10). If you are a lover of good food and a glutton, you have the words of the Lord, "sweeter than honey and the honeycomb" (ibid.). Now if I dismiss you and break up the assembly, some of you at once run off in haste to the dice, where there is swearing and violent contention and the greed of gain, and a filthy demon stands by, now raising up this one with the exultation of victory and making his opponent sad, now showing that one lively and proud. What good is it to fast in body if the soul is burdened with many thousands of wickednesses? And as for one who does not play at dice but is idle, what vanities does he not bring out of his mouth, or what accursed thing does he not take in with his ears? So idleness without the fear of God is a teacher of wickedness. And indeed I presume that some benefit is gained by you from what we have said. But if not, yet staying in this place will keep you free from sin. And the longer we keep you in the Lord's church, the more we separate you from thoughts of evil. What we have said is enough before the most just Judge, if he looks not at the abundant riches of creation but at the smallness of our ability, or at the measure of the gladness to be taken from present things. Let this, then, be the end of the morning feast, lest a fullness taken in beyond measure bring you disgust for the evening banquet. And may the Lord, who has filled all things with the abundance of his creation and who in all things has given us eternal monuments of his wonders, fill our minds with spiritual joy in Christ Jesus, to whom be glory and honour, now and always, and for ages of ages. Amen.