HOMILY V. 

The Germination of the Earth. 

    1. "And God said Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, 
and the fruit tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself."  
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.