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The
Germination of the Earth.
1. "And God said
Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree
yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself." It was deep wisdom
that commanded the earth, when it rested after discharging the weight of
the waters, first to bring forth grass, then wood as we see it doing still
at this time. For the voice that was then heard and this command were aS
a natural and permanent law for it; it gave fertility and the power to produce
fruit for all ages to come; "Let the earth bring forth." The production of
vegetables shows first germination. When the germs begin to sprout they form
grass; this develops and becomes a plant, which insensibly receives its different
articulations, and reaches its maturity in the seed. Thus all things which
sprout and are green are developed. "Let the earth bring forth green grass."
Let the earth bring forth by itself without having any need of help from
without. Some consider the sun as the source of all productiveness on the
earth. It is, they say, the action of the sun's heat which attracts the vital
force from the centre of the earth to the surface. The reason why the adornment
of the earth was before the sun is the following; that those who worship
the sun, as the source of life, may renounce their error. If they be well
persuaded that the earth was adorned before the genesis of the sun, they
will retract their unbounded admiration for it, because they see grass and
plants vegetate before it rose. If then the food for the flocks was prepared,
did our race appear less worthy of a like solicitude? He, who provided pasture
for horses and cattle, thought before all of your riches and pleasures. If
he fed your cattle, it was to provide for all the needs of your life. And
what object was there in the bringing forth of grain, if not for your
subsistence? Moreover, many grasses and vegetables serve for the food of
man.
2. "Let the earth bring forth grass yielding seed after his kind." So that
although some kind of grass is of service to animals, even their gain is
our gain too, and seeds are especially designed for our use. Such is the
true meaning of the words that I have i quoted. "Let the earth bring forth
grass, the herb yielding seed after his kind." this manner we can re-establish
the order of the words, of which the construction seems faulty in the actual
version, and the economy of nature will be rigorously observed. In fact,
first comes germination, then verdure, then the growth of the plant, which
alter having attained its full growth arrives at perfection in seed.
How then, they say, can Scripture describe all the plants of the earth as
seed-bearing, when the reed, couch-grass, mint, crocus, garlic, and the flowering
rush and countless other species, produce no seed? To this we reply that
many vegetables have their seminal virtue in the lower part and in the roots.
The need, for example, after its annual growth sends forth a protuberance
from its roots, which takes the place of seed for future trees. Numbers of
other vegetables are the same and all over the earth reproduce by the roots.
Nothing then is truer than that each plant produces its seed or contains
some seminal virtue; this is what is meant by "after its kind." So that the
shoot of a reed does not produce an olive tree, but from a reed grows another
reed, and from one sort of seed a plant of the same sort always germinates.
Thus, all which sprang from the earth, in its first bringing forth, is kept
the same to our time, thanks to the constant reproduction of kind.
"Let the earth bring forth." See how, at this short word, at this brief command,
the cold and sterile earth travailed and hastened to bring forth its fruit,
as it east away its sad and dismal covering to clothe itself in a more brilliant
robe, proud of its proper adornment and displaying the infinite variety of
plants.
I want creation to penetrate you with so much admiration that everywhere,
wherever you may be, the least plant may bring to yon the clear remembrance
of the Creator. If you see the grass of the fields, think of human nature,
and remember the comparison of the wise Isaiah. "All flesh is grass, and
all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field." Truly the rapid
flow of life, the short gratification and pleasure that an instant of happiness
gives a man, all wonderfully suit the comparison of the prophet. To-day he
is vigorous in body, fattened by luxury, and in the prime of life, with
complexion fair like the flowers, strong and powerful and of irresistible
energy; tomorrow and he will be an object of pity, withered by age or exhausted
by sickness. Another shines in all the splendour of a brilliant fortune.
and around him are a multitude of flatterers, an escort of false friends
on the track of his good graces; a crowd of kinsfolk, but of no true kin;
a swarm Of servants who crowd after him to provide for his food and for all
his needs; and in his comings and goings this innumerable suite, which he
drags after him, excites the envy of all whom he meets. To fortune may be
added power in the State, honours bestowed by the imperial throne, the government
of a province, or the command of armies; a herald who precedes him is crying
in a loud voice; lictors right and left also fill his subjects with awe,
blows, confiscations, banishments, imprisonments, and all the means by which
he strikes intolerable terror into all whom he has to rule. And what then?
One night, a fever, a pleurisy, or an inflammation of the lungs, snatches
away this man from the midst of men, stripped in a moment of all his stage
accessories, and all this, his glory, is proved a mere dream. Therefore the
Prophet has compared human glory to the weakest flower.
3. Up to this point, the order in which plants shoot bears witness to their
first arrangement. Every herb, every plant proceeds from a germ. If, like
the couch-grass and the crocus, it throws out a shoot from its root and from
this lower protuberance, it must always germinate and start outwards. If
it proceeds from a seed, there is still, by necessity, first a germ, then
the sprout, theft green foliage, and finally the fruit which ripens upon
a stalk hitherto dry and thick. "Let the earth bring forth grass." When the
seed falls into the earth, which contains the right combination of heat and
moisture, it swells and becomes porous, and, grasping the surrounding earth,
attracts to itself all that is suitable for it and that has affinity to it.
These particles of earth, however small they may be, as they fall and insinuate
themselves into all the pores of the seed, broaden its bulk and make it send
forth roots below, and shoot upwards, sending forth stalks no less numerous
than the roots. As the germ is always growing warm, the moisture, pumped
up through the roots, and helped by the attraction of heat, draws a proper
amount of nourishment from the soil, and distributes it to the stem, to the
bark, to the husk, to the steel itself and to the beards with which it is
armed. It is owing to these successive accretions that each plant attains
its natural development, as well corn as vegetables, herbs or brushwood.
A single plant, a blade of grass is sufficient to occupy all your intelligence
in the contemplation of the skill which produced it. Why is the wheat stalk
better with joints? Are they not like fastenings, which help it to bear easily
the weight of the ear, when it is swollen with fruit and bends towards the
earth? Thus, whilst oats, which have no weight to bear at the top, are without
these supports, nature has provided them for wheat. It has hidden the grain
in a case, so that it may not be exposed to birds' pillage, and has furnished
it with a rampart of barbs, which, like darts, protect it against the attacks
of tiny creatures.
4. What shall I say? What shall I leave unsaid? In the rich treasures of
creation it is difficult to select what is most precious; the loss of what
is omitted is too severe. "Let the earth bring forth grass;" and instantly,
with useful plants, appear noxious plants; with corn, hemlock; with the other
nutritious plants, hellebore, monkshood, mandrake and the juice of the poppy.
What then? Shall we show no gratitude for so many beneficial gifts, and reproach
the Creator for those which may be harmful to our life? And shall we not
reflect that all has not been created in view of the wants of our bellies?
The nourishing plants, which are destined for our use, are close at hand,
and known by all the world. But in creation nothing exists without a reason.
The blood of the bull is a poison: ought this animal then, whose strength
is so serviceable to man, not to have been created, or, if created, to have
been bloodless? But you have sense enough in yourself to keep you free froth
deadly things. What! Sheep and goats know how to turn away from what threatens
their life, discerning danger by instinct alone: and you, who have reason
and the art of medicine to supply what you need, and the experience of your
forebears to tell you to avoid all that is dangerous, you tell me that you
find it difficult to keep yourself from poisons! But not a single thing has
been created without reason, not a single thing is useless. One serves as
food to some animal; medicine has found in another a relief for one of our
maladies. Thus the starling eats hemlock, its constitution rendering it
insusceptible to the action of the poison.
Thanks to the tenuity of the pores of its heart, the malignant juice is on
sooner swallowed than it is digested, before its chill can attack the vital
parts. The quail, thanks to its peculiar temperament, whereby it escapes
the dangerous effects, feeds on hellebore. There are even circumstances where
poisons are useful to men; with mandrake doctors give us sleep; with opium
they lull violent pain. Hemlock has ere now been used to appease the rage
of unruly diseases; and many times hellebore has taken away long standing
disease. These plants, then, instead of making you accuse the Creator, give
you a new subject for gratitude.
5. "Let the earth bring forth grass." What spontaneous provision is included
in these words,--that which is present in the root, in the plant itself,
and in the fruit, as well as that which our labour and husbandry add! God
did not command the earth immediately to give forth seed and fruit, but to
produce germs, to grow green, and to arrive at maturity in the seed; so that
this first command teaches nature what she has to do in the course of ages.
But, they ask, is it true that the earth produces seed after his kind, when
often, after having sown wheat, we gather black grain? This is not a change
of kind, but an alteration, a disease of the grain. It has not ceased to
be wheat; it is on account of having been burnt that it is black, as one
can learn from its name. If a severe frost had burnt it, it would have had
another colour and a different flavour. They even pretend that, if it could
find suitable earth and moderate temperature, it might return to its first
form. Thus, you find nothing in nature contrary to the divine command. As
to the darnel and all those bastard grains which mix themselves with the
harvest, the tares of Scripture, far from being a variety of corn, have their
own origin and their own kind; image of those who alter the doctrine of the
Lord and, not being rightly instructed in the word, but, corrupted by the
teaching of the evil one, mix themselves with the sound body of the Church
to spread their pernicious errors secretly among purer souls. The Lord thus
compares the perfection of those who believe in Him to the growth of seed,
"as if a man should cast seed into the ground; and should sleep and rise,
night and day, and the seed should spring and grow up, he knoweth not how.
For the earth bringeth forth fruit of herself; first the blade, then the
ear, after that the full corn in the ear." "Let the earth bring forth grass."
In a moment earth began by germination to obey the laws of the Creator, completed
every stage of growth, and brought germs to perfection. The meadows were
covered with deep grass, the fertile plains quivered with harvests, and the
movement of the corn was like the waving of the sea. Every plant, every herb,
the smallest shrub, the least vegetable, arose from the earth in all its
luxuriance. There was no failure in this first vegetation: no husbandman's
inexperience, no inclemency of the weather, nothing could injure it; then
the sentence of condemnation was not fettering the earth's fertility. All
this was before the sin which condemned us to eat our bread by the sweat
of our brow.
6. "Let the earth," the Creator adds, "bring forth the fruit tree yielding
fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself."
At this command every copse was thickly planted; all the trees, fir, cedar,
cypress, pine, rose to their greatest height, the shrubs were straightway
clothed with thick foliage. The plants called crown-plants, roses, myrtles,
laurels, did not exist; in one moment they came into being, each one with
its distinctive peculiarities. Most marked differences separated them from
other plants, and each one was distinguished by a character of its own. But
then the rose was without thorns; since then the thorn has been added to
its beauty, to make us feel that sorrow is very near to pleasure, and to
remind us of our sin, which condemned the earth to produce thorns and caltrops.
But, they say, the earth has received the command to produce trees "yielding
fruit whose seed was in itself," and we see many trees which have neither
fruit, nor seed. What shall we reply? First, that only the more important
trees are mentioned; and then, that a careful examination will show us that
every tree has seed, or some property which takes the place of it. The black
poplar, the willow, the elm, the white poplar, all the trees of this family,
do not produce any apparent fruit; however, an attentive observer finds seed
in each of them. This grain which is at the base of the leaf, and which those
who busy themselves with inventing words call mischos, has the property of
seed. And there are trees which reproduce by their branches, throwing out
roots from them. Perhaps we ought even to consider as seeds the saplings
which spring from the roots of a tree: for cultivators tear them out to multiply
the species. But, we have already said, it is chiefly a question of the trees
which contribute most to out life; which offer their various fruits to man
and provide him with plentiful nourishment. Such is the vine, which produces
wine to make glad the heart of man; such is the olive tree, whose fruit brightens
his face with oil. How many things in nature are combined in the same plant!
In a vine, roots, green and flexible branches, which spread themselves far
over the earth, buds, tendrils, bunches of sour grapes and ripe grapes. The
sight of a vine, when observed by an intelligent eye, serves to remind you
of your nature. Without doubt you remember the parable where the Lord calls
Himself a vine and His Father the husbandman, and every one of us who are
grafted by faith into the Church the branches. He invites us to produce fruits
in abundance, for fear lest our sterility should condemn us to the fire.
He constantly compares our souls to vines. "My well beloved," says He, "hath
a vineyard in a very fruitfull hill," and elsewhere, I have "planted a vineyard
and hedged it round about." Evidently He calls human souls His vine, those
souls whom He has surrounded with the authority of His precepts and a guard
of angels. "The angel of the Lord encampeth round shout them that fear him."
And further: He has planted for us, so to say, props, in establishing in
His Church apostles, prophets, teachers; and raising our thoughts by the
example of the blessed in olden times, He has not allowed them to drag on
the earth and be crushed under foot. He wishes that the claspings of love,
like the tendrils of the vine, should attach us to our neighbours and make
us rest on them, so that, in our continual aspirations towards heaven, we
may imitate these vines, which raise themselves to the tops of the tallest
trees. He also asks us to allow ourselves to be dug about; and that is what
the soul does when it disembarrasses itself from the cares of the world,
which are a weight on our hearts. He, then, who is freed from carnal affections
and from the love of riches, and, far from being dazzled by them, disdains
and despises this miserable vain glory, is, so to say, dug about and at length
breathes, free from the useless weight of earthly thoughts. Nor must we,
in the spirit of the parable, put forth too much wood, that is to say, live
with ostentation, and gain the applause of the world; we must bring forth
fruits, keeping the proof of our works for the husbandman. Be "like a green
olive tree in the house of God," never destitute of hope, but decked through
faith with the bloom of salvation. Thus you will resemble the eternal verdure
of this plant and will rival it in fruitfulness, if each clay sees you giving
abundantly in alms.
7. But let us return to the examination of the ingenious contrivances of
creation. How many trees then arose, some to give us their fruits, others
to roof our houses, others to build our ships, others to feed our fires!
What a variety in the disposition of their several parts! And yet, how difficult
is it to find the distinctive property of each of them, and to grasp the
difference which separates them from other species. Some strike deep roots,
others do not; some shoot straight up and have only one stem, others appear
to love the earth and, from their root upwards, divide into several shoots.
Those whose long branches stretch up afar into the air, have also deep roots
which spread within a large circumference, a true foundation placed by nature
to support the weight of the tree. What variety there is in bark! Some plants
have smooth bark, others rough, some have only one layer, others several.
What a marvellous thing! You may find in the youth and age of plants resemblances
to those of man. Young and vigorous, their bark is distended; when they grow
old, it is rough and wrinkled. Cut one, it sends forth new buds; the other
remains henceforward sterile and as if struck with a mortal wound. But further,
it has been observed that pines, cut down, or even submitted to the action
of fire, are changed into a forest of oaks. We know besides that the industry
of agriculturists remedies the natural defects of certain trees. Thus the
sharp pomegranate and bitter almonds, if the trunk of the tree is pierced
near the root to introduce into the middle of the pith a fat plug of pine,
lose the acidity of their juice, and become delicious fruits. Let not the
sinner then despair of himself, when he thinks, if agriculture can change
the juices of plants, the efforts of the soul to arrive at virtue, can certainly
triumph over all infirmities.
Now there is such a variety of fruits in fruit trees that it is beyond all
expression; a variety not only in the fruits of trees of different families,
but even in those of the same species, if it be true, as gardeners say, that
the sex of a tree influences the character of its fruits. They distinguish
male from female in palms; sometimes we see those which they call female
lower their branches, as though with passionate desire. and invite the embraces
of the male. Then, those who take care of these plants shake over these palms
the fertilizing dust from the male palm-tree, the psen as they call it: the
tree appears to share the pleasures of enjoyment; then it raises its branches,
and its foliage resumes its usual form. The same is said of the fig tree.
Some plant wild fig trees near cultivated fig trees, and there are others
who, to remedy the weakness of the productive fig tree of our gardens, attach
to the branches unripe figs and so retain the fruit which had already begun
to drop and to be lost. What lesson does nature here give us? That we must
often borrow, even from those who are strangers to the faith, a certain vigour
to show forth good works. If you see outside the Church, in pagan life, or
in the midst of a pernicious heresy, the example of virtue and fidelity to
moral laws, redouble your efforts to resemble the productive fig tree, who
by the side of the wild fig tree, gains strength, prevents the fruit from
being shed, and nourishes it with more care.
8. Plants reproduce themselves in so many different ways, that we can only
touch upon the chief among them. As to fruits themselves, who could review
their varieties, their forms, their colours, the peculiar flavour, and the
use of each of them? Why do some fruits ripen when exposed bare to the rays
of the sun, while others fill out while encased in shells? Trees of which
the fruit is tender have, like the fig tree, a thick shade of leaves; those,
on the contrary, of which the fruits are stouter, like the nut, are only
covered by a light shade. The delicacy of the first requires more care; if
the latter had a thicker case, the shade of the leaves would be harmful.
Why is the vine leaf serrated, if not that the bunches of grapes may at the
same time resist the injuries of the air and receive through the openings
all the rays of the sun? Nothing has been done without motive, nothing by
chance. All shows ineffable wisdom.
What discourse can touch all? Can the human mind make an exact review, remark
every distinctive property, exhibit all the differences, unveil with certainty
so many mysterious causes? The same water, pumped up through the root, nourishes
in a different way the root itself, the bark of the trunk, the wood and the
pith. It becomes leaf, it distributes itself among the branches and twigs
and makes the fruits swell -- it gives to the plant its gum and its sap.
Who will explain to us the difference between all these? There is a difference
between the gum of the mastich and the juice of the balsam, a difference
between that which distils in Egypt arid Libya from the fennel. Amber is,
they say, the crystallized sap of plants. And for a proof, see the bits of
straws and little insects which have been caught in the sap while still liquid
and imprisoned there. In one word, no one without long experience could find
terms to express the virtue of it. How, again, does this water become wine
in the vine, and oil in the olive tree? Yet what is marvellous is, not to
see it become sweet in one fruit, fat and unctuous in another, but to see
in sweet fruits an inexpressible variety of flavour. There is one sweetness
of the grape, another of the apple, another of the fig, another of the date.
I shall willingly give you the gratification of continuing this research.
How is it that this same water has sometimes a sweet taste, softened by its
remaining in certain plants, and at other times stings the palate because
it has become acid by passing through others? How is it, again, that it attains
extreme bitterness, and makes the mouth rough when it is found in wormwood
and in scammony? That it has in acorns and dogwood a sharp and rough flavour?
That in the turpentine tree and the walnut tree it is changed into a soft
and oily matter?
9. But what need is there to continue. when in the same fig tree we have
the most opposite flavours, as bitter in the sap as it is sweet in the fruit?
And in the vine, is it not as sweet in the grapes as it is astringent in
the branches? And what a variety of colour! Look how in a meadow this same
water becomes red in one flower, purple in another, blue in this one, white
in that. And this diversity of colours, is it to be compared to that of scents?
But I perceive that an insatiable curiosity is drawing out my discourse beyond
its limits. If I do not stop and recall it to the law of creation, day will
fail me whilst making you see great wisdom in small things.
"Let the earth bring forth the fruit tree yielding fruit." Immediately the
tops of the mountains were covered with foliage: paradises were artfully
laid out, and an infinitude of plants embellished the banks of the rivers.
Some were for the adornment of man's table; some to nourish animals with
their fruits and their leaves; some to provide medicinal help by giving us
their sap, their juice, their chips, their bark or their fruit. In a word,
the experience of ages, profiting from every chance, has not been able to
discover anything useful, which the penetrating foresight of the Creator
did not first perceive and call into existence. Therefore, when you see the
trees in our gardens, or those of the forest, those which love the water
or the land, those which bear flowers, or those which do not flower, I should
like to see you recognising grandeur even in small objects, adding incessantly
to your admiration of, and redoubling your love for the Creator. Ask yourself
why He has made some trees evergreen and others deciduous; why, among the
first, some lose their leaves, and others always keep them. Thus the olive
and the pine shed their leaves, although they renew them insensibly and never
appear to be despoiled of their verdure. The palm tree, on the contrary,
from its birth to its death, is always adorned with the same foliage. Think
again of the double life of the tamarisk; it is an aquatic plant, and yet
it covers the desert. Thus, Jeremiah compares it to the worst of characters
-- the double character.
10. "Let the earth bring forth." This short command was in a moment a vast
nature, an elaborate system. Swifter than thought it produced the countless
qualities of plants. It is this command which, still at this day, is imposed
on the earth, and in the course of each year displays all the strength of
its power to produce herbs, seeds and trees. Like tops, which after the first
impulse, continue their evolutions, turning upon themselves when once fixed
in their centre; thus nature, receiving the impulse of this first command,
follows without interruption the course of ages, until the consummation of
all things. Let us all hasten to attain to it, full of fruit and of good
works; and thus, planted in the house of the Lord we shall flourish in the
court of our God, in our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power for
ever and ever. Amen. |
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