========================================================================
  WRITINGS OF GREGORY OF NEOCAESAREA
  by Gregory of Neocaesarea
========================================================================

Writings of Gregory of Neocaesarea (c. AD 270). Gregory of Neocaesarea was an
early church father whose writings have been preserved for the edification of
the church.

  Chapters: 6

------------------------------------------------------------------------
  TABLE OF CONTENTS
------------------------------------------------------------------------

    0. Writings of Gregory of Neocaesarea
    1. A Declaration of Faith
    2. A Metaphrase of the Book of Ecclesiastes
    3. Canonical Epistle
    4. Homily concerning the Holy Mother of God, ever-virgin
    5. The Oration and Panegyric Addressed to Origen

========================================================================
  CHAPTER 0: WRITINGS OF GREGORY OF NEOCAESAREA
========================================================================


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 1: A DECLARATION OF FAITH
========================================================================

A Declaration of Faith.1 A Declaration of Faith.1

------------

There is one God, the Father of the living Word, who is His subsistent Wisdom
and Power and Eternal Image:2 perfect Begetter of the perfect Begotten, Father
of the only-begotten Son. There is one Lord, Only of the Only,3 God of God,
Image and Likeness of Deity, Efficient Word,4 Wisdom comprehensive5 of the
constitution of all things, and Power formative6 of the whole creation, true Son
of true Father, Invisible of Invisible, and Incorruptible of Incorruptible, and
Immortal of Immortal and Eternal of Eternal.7 And there is One Holy Spirit,
having His subsistence8 from God, and being made manifest9 by the Son, to wit to
men:10 Image11 of the Son, Perfect Image of the Perfect;12 Life, the Cause of
the living; Holy Fount; Sanctity, the Supplier, or Leader,13 of Sanctification;
in whom is manifested God the Father, who is above all and in all, and God the
Son, who is through all. There is a perfect Trinity, in glory and eternity and
sovereignty, neither divided nor estranged.14 Wherefore there is nothing either
created or in servitude15 in the Trinity;16 nor anything superinduced,17 as if
at some former period it was non-existent, and at some later period it was
introduced. And thus neither was the Son ever wanting to the Father, nor the
Spirit to the Son;18 but without variation and without change, the same Trinity
abideth ever.19

1: The title as it stands has this addition: "which he had by revelation from
the blessed John the evangelist, by the mediation of the Virgin Mary, Parent of
God." Gallandi, Veterum Patrum Biblioth. , Venice, 1766, p. 385. [Elucidation,
p. 8, infra .] 2: xarakth=roj a0idi/ou .

3: mo/noj e0k mo/no/j .

4: lo/goj e0nergo/j .

5: periektikh/ .

6: poihtikh/ .

7: a0i>\/dioj a0i>\di/ou .

8: u#parcin .

9: pefhno/j .

10: The words dhladh\ toi=j a0nqrw/poij are suspected by some to be a gloss that
has found its way into the text.

11: ei0kw/n .

12: So John of Damascus uses the phrase, ei0kw\n tou= Patro\j o9 Ui9o\j,
kai\tou= Ui9ou=, to\ Pneu=ma , the Son is the Image of the Father, and the
Spirit is that of the Son, lib. 1, De fide orthod. , ch. 13, vol. i. p. 151. See
also Athanasius, Epist. 1 ad Serap. ; Basil, lib. v. contra Eunom. ; Cyril,
Dial. , 7, etc.

13: xorhgo/j .

14: a0pallotrioume/nh . See also Gregory Nazianz., Orat. , 37, p. 609.

15: dou=lon .

16: Gregory Nazianz., Orat. , 40, p. 668, with reference apparently to our
author, says: Ou0de\n th=j Tria/doj dou=lon, ou0de\ ktiston, ou0de\ e0peisakton,
h#kousa tw=n sofw=n tinoj legontoj - In the Trinity there is nothing either in
servitude or created, or superinduced, as I heard one of the learned say.

17: r0pei/sakton .

18: In one codex we find the following addition here: ou#te au#cetai mona\j ei0j
dua/da, ou0de\ dua\j ei0j tria/da - Neither again does the unity grow into
duality, nor the duality into trinity ; or = Neither does the condition of the
one grow into the condition of the two, nor that of the two into the condition
of the three.

19: [See valuable note and Greek text in Dr. Schaff's History , vol. ii. p.
799.]


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 2: A METAPHRASE OF THE BOOK OF ECCLESIASTES
========================================================================

A Metaphrase of the Book of Ecclesiastes.1

Chapter I.2

Chapter II.

Chapter III.

Chapter IV.

Chapter V.

Chapter VI.

Chapter VII.

Chapter VIII.

Chapter IX.

Chapter X.

Chapter XI.

Chapter XII. A Metaphrase of the Book of Ecclesiastes.1

--------

Chapter I.2

These words speaketh Solomon, the son of David the king and prophet, to the
whole Church of God, a prince most honoured, and a prophet most wise above all
men. How vain and fruitless are the affairs of men, and all pursuits that occupy
man! For there is not one who can tell of any profit attaching to those things
which men who creep on earth strive by body and soul to attain to, in servitude
all the while to what is transient, and undesirous of considering aught heavenly
with the noble eye of the soul. And the life of men weareth away, as day by day,
and in the periods of hours and years, and the determinate courses of the sun,
some are ever coming, and others passing away. And the matter is like the
transit of torrents as they fall into the measureless deep of the sea with a
mighty noise. And all things that have been constituted by God for the sake of
men abide the same: as, for instance, I that man is born of earth, and departs
to earth again; that the earth itself continues stable; that the sun
accomplishes its circuit about it perfectly, and rolls round to the same mark
again; and that the winds3 in like manner, and the mighty rivers which flow into
the sea, and the breezes that beat upon it, all act without forcing it to pass
beyond its limits, and without themselves also violating their appointed laws.
And these things, indeed, as bearing upon the good of this life of ours, are
established thus fittingly. But those things which are of men's devising,
whether words or deeds, have no measure. And there is a plenteous multitude of
words, but there is no profit from random and foolish talking. But the race of
men is naturally insatiate in its thirst both for speaking and for hearing what
is spoken; and it is man's habit, too, to desire to look with idle eyes on all
that happens. What can occur afterwards, or what can be wrought by men which has
not been done already? What new thing is there worthy of mention, of which there
has never yet been experience? For I think there is nothing which one may call
new, or which, on considering it, one shall discover to be strange or unknown to
those of old. But as former things are buried in oblivion, so also things that
are now subsistent will in the course of time vanish utterly from the knowledge
of those who shall come after us. And I speak not these things unadvisedly, as
acting now the preacher.4 But all these things were carefully pondered by me
when entrusted with the kingdom of the Hebrews in Jerusalem. And I examined
diligently, and considered discreetly, the nature of all that is on earth, and I
perceived it to be most various;5 and I saw that to man it is given to labour
upon earth, ever carried about by all different occasions of toil, and with no
result of his work. And all things here below are full of the spirit of
strangeness and abomination, so that it is not possible for one to retrieve them
now; nay, rather it is not possible for one at all to conceive what utter
vanity6 has taken possession of all human affairs. For once. on a time I
communed with myself, and thought that then I was wiser in this than all that
were before me, and I was expert in understanding parables and the natures of
things. But I learned that I gave myself to such pursuits to no purpose, and
that if wisdom follows knowledge, so troubles attend on wisdom.

Chapter II.

Judging, therefore, that it stood thus with this matter, I decided to turn to
another mariner of life, and to give myself to pleasure, and to take experience
of various delights. And now I learned that all such things are vain; and I put
a check on laughter, when it ran on carelessly; and restrained pleasure,
according to the rule of moderation, and was bitterly wroth against it. And when
I perceived that the soul is able to arrest the body in its disposition to
intoxication and wine-bibbing, and that temperance makes lust its subject, I
sought earnestly to observe what object of true worth and of real excellence is
set before men, which they shall attain to in this present life. For I passed
through all those other objects which are deemed worthiest, such as the erecting
of lofty houses and the planting of vines, and in addition, the laying out of
pleasure-grounds, and the acquisition and culture of all manner of fruit-bearing
trees; and among them also large reservoirs for the reception of water were
constructed, and distributed so as to secure the plentiful irrigation of the
trees. And I surrounded myself also with many domestics, both man-servants and
maid-servants; and some of them I procured from abroad, and others I possessed
and employed as born in my own house. And herds of four-fooled creatures, as
well of cattle as of sheep, more numerous than any of those of old acquired,
were made my property. And treasures of gold and silver flowed in upon me; and I
made the kings of all nations my dependants and tributaries. And very many
choirs of male and female singers were trained to yield me pleasure by the
practice of all-harmonious song. And I had banquetings; and for the service of
this part of my pleasure, I got me select cup-bearers of both sexes beyond my
reckoning,-so far did I surpass in these things those who reigned before me in
Jerusalem. And thus it happened that the interests of wisdom declined with me,
while the claims of evil appetency increased. For when I yielded myself to every
allurement of the eyes, and to the violent passions of the heart, that make
their attack from all quarters, and surrendered myself to the hopes held out by
pleasures, I also made my will the bond-slave of all miserable delights. For
thus my judgment was brought to such a wretched pass, that I thought these
things good, and that it was proper for me to engage in them. At length, awaking
and recovering my sight, I perceived that the things I had in hand were l
altogether sinful and very evil, and the deeds of a spirit not good. For now
none of all the objects of men's choice seems to me worthy of approval, or
greatly to be desired by a just mind. Wherefore, having pondered at once the
advantages of wisdom and the ills of folly, I should with reason admire that man
greatly, who, being borne on in a thoughtless course, and afterwards arresting
himself, should return to right and duty. For wisdom and folly, are widely
separated, and they are as different from each other as day is from night. He,
therefore, who makes choice of virtue, is like one who sees all things plainly,
and looks upward, and who holdeth his ways in the time of clearest light. But
he, on the other hand, who has involved himself in wickedness, is like a man who
wanders helplessly about in a moonless night, as one who is blind, and deprived
of the sight of things by his darkness.7 And when I considered the end of each
of these modes of life, I found there was no profit in the latter;8 and by
setting myself to be the companion of the foolish, I saw that I should receive
the wages of folly. For what advantage is there in those thoughts, or what
profit is there in the multitude of words, where the streams of foolish speaking
are flowing, as it were, from the fountain of folly? Moreover, there is nothing
common to the wise man and to the fool, neither as regards the memory of men,
nor as regards the recompense of God. And as to all the affairs of men, when
they are yet apparently but beginning to be, the end at once surprises them. Yet
the wise man is never partaker of the same end with the foolish. Then also did I
hate all my life, that had been consumed in vanities, and which I had spent with
a mind engrossed in earthly anxieties. For, to speak in brief, all my affairs
have been wrought by me with labour and pain, as the efforts of thoughtless
impulse; and some other person, it may be a wise man or a fool, will succeed to
them, I mean, the chill fruits of my toils. But when I cut myself off from these
things, and cast them away, then did that real good which is set before man show
itself to me,-namely, the knowledge of wisdom and the possession of manly
virtue.9 And if a man neglects these things, and is inflamed with the passion
for other things, such a man makes choice of evil instead of good, and goes
after what is bad instead of what is excellent, and after trouble instead of
peace; for he is distracted by every manner of disturbance, and is burdened with
continual anxieties night and day, with oppressive labours of body as well as
with ceaseless cares of mind,-his heart moving in constant agitation, by reason
of the strange and senseless affairs that occupy him. For the perfect good does
not consist in eating and drinking, although it is true that it is from God that
their sustenance cometh to men; for none of those things which are given for our
maintenance subsist without His providence. But the good man who gets wisdom
from God, gets also heavenly enjoyment; while, on the other hand, the evil man.
smitten with ills divinely inflicted, and afflicted with the disease of lust,
toils to amass much, and is quick to put him to shame who is honoured by God in
presence of the Lord of all, proffering useless gifts, and making things
deceitful and vain the pursuits of his own miserable soul.

Chapter III. For this present time is filled with all things that are most
contrary10 to each other-births and deaths, the growth of plants and their
uprooting, cures and killings, the building up and the pulling down of houses,
weeping and laughing, mourning and dancing. At this moment a man gathers of
earth's products, and at another casts them away; and at one time he ardently
desireth the beauty of woman, and at another he hateth it. Now he seeketh
something, and again he loseth it; and now he keepeth, and again he casteth
away; at one time he slayeth, and at another he is slain; he speaketh, and again
he is silent; he loveth, and again he hateth. For the affairs of men are at one
time in a condition of war, and at another in a condition of peace; while their
fortunes are so inconstant, that from bearing the semblance of good, they change
quickly into acknowledged ills. Let us have done, therefore, with vain labours.
For all these things, as appears to me, are set to madden men, as it were, with
their poisoned stings. And the ungodly observer of the times and seasons is
agape for this world,11 exerting himself above measure to destroy the image12 of
God, as one who has chosen to contend against it13 from the beginning onward to
the end.14 I am persuaded, therefore, that the greatest good for man is
cheerfulness and well-doing, and that this shortlived enjoyment, which alone is
possible to us, comes from God only, if righteousness direct our doings. But as
to those everlasting and incorruptible things which God hath firmly established,
it is not possible either to take aught from them or to add aught to them. And
to men in general, those things, in sooth, are fearful and wonderful;15 and
those things indeed which have been, abide so; and those which are to be, have
already been, as regards His foreknowledge. Moreover, the man who is injured has
God as his helper. I saw in the lower parts the pit of punishment which receives
the impious, but a different place allotted for the pious. And I thought with
myself, that with God all things are judged and determined to be equal; that the
righteous and the unrighteous, and objects with reason and without reason, are
alike in His judgment. For that their time is measured out equally to all, and
death impends over them, and in this the races of beasts and men are alike in
the judgment of God, and differ from each other only in the matter of articulate
speech; and all things else happen alike to them, and death receives all
equally, not more so in the case of the other kinds of creatures than in that of
men. For they have all the same breath of life, and men have nothing more; but
all are, in one word, vain, deriving their present condition16 from the same
earth, and destined to perish, and return to the same earth again. For it is
uncertain regarding the souls of men, whether they shall fly upwards; and
regarding the others which the unreasoning creatures possess, whether they shall
fall downward. And it seemed to me, that there is no other good save pleasure,
and the enjoyment of things present. For I did not think it possible for a man,
when once he has tasted death, to return again to the enjoyment of these
things.17

Chapter IV. And leaving all these reflections, I considered and turned in
aversion from all the forms of oppression18 which are done among men; whence
some receiving injury weep and lament, who are struck down by violence in utter
default of those who protect them, or who should by all means comfort them in
their trouble.19 And the men who make might their right20 are exalted to an
eminence, from which, however, they shall also fall. Yea, of the unrighteous and
audacious, those who are dead fare better than those who are still alive. And
better than both these is he who, being destined to be like them, has not yet
come into being, since he has not yet touched the wickedness which prevails
among men. And it became clear to me also how great is the envy which follows a
man from his neighbours, like the sting of a wicked spirit; and I saw that he
who receives it, and takes it as it were into his breast, has nothing else but
to eat his own heart, and tear it, and consume both soul and body, finding
inconsolable vexation in the good fortune of others.21 And a wise man would
choose to have one of his hands full, if it were with ease and quietness, rather
than both of them with travail and with the villany of a treacherous spirit.
Moreover, there is yet another thing which I know to happen contrary to what is
fitting, by reason of the evil will of man. He who is left entirely alone,
having neither brother nor son, but prospered with large possessions, lives on
in the spirit of insatiable avarice, and refuses l to give himself in any way
whatever to goodness. Gladly, therefore, would I ask such an one for what reason
he labours thus, fleeing with headlong speed22 from the doing of anything good,
and distracted by the many various passions for making gain23 Far better than
such are those who have taken up an order of life in common,24 from which they
may reap the best blessings. For when two men devote themselves in the right
spirit to the same objects, though some mischance befalls the one, he has still
at least no slight alleviation in having his companion by him. And the greatest
of all calamities to a man in evil fortune is the want of a friend to help and
cheer him.25 And those who live together both double the good fortune that
befalls them, and lessen the pressure of the storm of disagreeable events; so
that in the day they are distinguished for their frank confidence in each other,
and in the night they appear notable for their cheerfulness.26 But he who leads
a solitary life passes a species of existence full of terror to himself; not
perceiving that if one should fall upon men welded closely together, he adopts a
rash and perilous course, and that it is not easy to snap the threefold cord.27
Moreover, I put a poor youth, if he be wise, before an aged prince devoid of
wisdom, to whose thoughts it has never occured that it is possible that a man
may be raised from the prison to the throne, and that the very man who has
exercised his power unrighteously shall at a later period be righteously cast
out. For it may happen that those who are subject to a youth, who is at the same
time sensible, shall be free from trouble,-those, I mean, who are his elders.28
Moreover, they who are born later cannot praise another, of whom they have had
no experience,29 and are led by an unreasoning judgment, and by the impulse of a
contrary spirit. But in exercising the preacher's office, keep thou this before
thine eyes, that thine own life be rightly directed, and that thou prayest in
behalf of the foolish, that they may get understanding, and know how to shun the
doings of the wicked.

Chapter V.

Moreover, it is a good thing to use the tongue sparingly, and to keep a calm and
rightly balanced30 heart in the exercise of speech.31 For it is not right to
give utterance in words to things that are foolish and absurd, or to all that
occur to the mind; but we ought to know and reflect, that though we are far
separated from heaven, we speak in the hearing of God, and that it is good for
us to speak without offence. For as dreams and visions of many kinds attend
manifold cares of mind, so also silly talking is conjoined with folly. Moreover,
see to it, that a promise made with a vow be made good in fact. This, too, is
proper to fools, that they are unreliable. But be thou true to thy word, knowing
that it is ranch better for thee not to vow or promise to do anything, than to
vow and then fail of performance. And thou oughtest by all means to avoid the
flood of base words, seeing that God will hear them. For the man who makes such
things his study gets no more benefit by them than to see his doings brought to
nought by God. For as the multitude of dreams is vain, so also the multitude of
words. But the fear of God is man's salvation, though it is rarely found.
Wherefore thou oughtest not to wonder though thou seest the poor oppressed, and
the judges misinterpreting the law. But thou oughtest to avoid the appearance of
surpassing those who are in power. For even should this prove to be the case,
yet, from the terrible ills that shall befall thee, wickedness of itself will
not deliver thee. But even as property acquired by violence is a most hurtful as
well as impious possession, so the man who lusteth after money never finds
satisfaction for his passion, nor good-will from his neighbours, even though he
may have amassed the greatest possible wealth. For this also is vanity. But
goodness greatly rejoiceth those who hold by it, and makes them strong,32
imparting to them the capacity of seeing through33 all things. And it is a great
matter also not to be engrossed by such anxieties: for the poor man, even should
he be a slave, and unable to fill his belly plentifully, enjoys at least the
kind refreshment of sleep; but the lust of riches is attended by sleepless
nights and anxieties of mind. And what could there be then more absurd, than
with much anxiety and trouble to amass wealth, and keep it with jealous care, if
all the while one is but maintaining the occasion of countless evils to himself?
And this wealth, besides, must needs perish some time or other, and be lost,
whether he who has acquired it has children or not;34 and the man himself,
however unwillingly, is doomed to die, and return to earth in the selfsame
condition in which it was his lot once to come into being.35 And the fact that
he is destined thus to leave earth with empty hands, will make the evil all the
sorer to him, as he fails to consider that an end is appointed for his life
similar to its beginning, and that he toils to no profit, and labours rather for
the wind, as it were, than for the advancement of his own real interest, wasting
his whole life in most unholy lusts and irrational passions, and withal in
troubles and pains. And, to speak shortly, his days are darkness to such a man,
and his life is sorrow. Yet this is in itself good, and by no means to be
despised. For it is the gift of God, that a man should be able to reap with
gladness of mind the fruits of his labours, receiving thus possessions bestowed
by God, and not acquired by force.36 For neither is such a than afflicted with
troubles, nor is he for the most part the slave of evil thoughts; but he
measures out his life by good deeds, being of good heart37 in all things, and
rejoicing in the gift of God.

Chapter VI.

Moreover, I shall exhibit in discourse the ill-fortune that most of all prevails
among men. While God may supply a man with all that is according to his mind,
and deprive him of no object which may in any manner appeal to his desires,
whether it be wealth, or honour, or any other of those things for which men
distract themselves; yet the man, while thus prospered in all things, as though
the only ill inflicted on him from heaven were just the inability to enjoy them,
may but husband them for his fellow, and fall without profit either to himself
or to his neighbours. This I reckon to be a strong proof and clear sign of
surpassing evil. The man who has borne without blame the name of father of very
many children, and spent a long life, and has not had his soul filled with good
for so long time, and has had no experience of death meanwhile,38 -this man I
should not envy either his numerous offspring or his length of days; nay, I
should say that the untimely birth that falls from a woman's womb is better than
he. For as that came in with vanity, so it also departeth secretly in oblivion,
without having tasted the ills of life or looked on the sun. And this is a
lighter evil than for the wicked man not to know what is good, even though he
measure his life by thousands of years.39 And the end of both is death. The fool
is proved above all things by his finding no satisfaction in any lust. But the
discreet man is not held captive by these passions. Yet, for the most part,
righteousness of life leads a man to poverty. And the sight of curious eyes
deranges40 many, inflaming their mind, and drawing them on to vain pursuits by
the empty desire of show.41 Moreover, the things which are now are known
already; and it be comes apparent that than is unable to contend with those that
are above him. And, verily, inanities have their course among men, which only
increase the folly of those who occupy themselves with them.

Chapter VII. For though a man should be by no means greatly advantaged by
knowing all in this life that is destined to befall him according to his mind
(let us suppose such a case), nevertheless with the officious activity of men he
devises means for prying into and gaining an apparent acquaintance with the
things that are to happen after a person's death. Moreover, a good name is more
pleasant to the mind42 than oil to the body; and the end of life is better than
the birth, and to mourn is more desirable than to revel, and to be with the
sorrowing is better than to be with the drunken. For this is the fact, that he
who comes to the end of life has no further care about alight around him. And
discreet anger is to be preferred to laughter; for by the severe disposition of
countenance the soul is kept upright43 The souls of the wise, indeed, are sad
and downcast, but those of fools are elated, and given loose to merriment. And
yet it is far more desirable to receive blame from one wise man, than to become
a hearer of a whole chorus of worthless and miserable men in their songs. For
the laughter of fools is like the crackling of many thorns burning in a fierce
fire. This, too, is misery, yea the greatest of evils, namely oppression;44 for
it intrigues against the souls of the wise, and attempts to ruin the noble way
of life45 which the good pursue. Moreover, it is right to commend not the man
who begins, but the man who finishes a speech;46 and what s moderate ought to
approve itself to the mind, and not what is swollen and inflated. Again, one
ought certainly to keep wrath in check, and not suffer himself to be carried
rashly into anger, the slaves of which are fools. More over, they are in error
who assert that a better manner of life was given to those before us, and they
fail to see that wisdom is widely different from mere abundance of possessions,
and that it is as much more lustrous47 than these, as silver shines more
brightly than its shadow. For the life of man hath its excellence48 not in the
acquisition of perishable riches, but in wisdom. And who shall be able, tell me,
to declare the providence of God, which is so great and so beneficent? or who
shall be able to recall the things which seem to have been passed by of God? And
in the former days of my vanity I considered all things, and saw a righteous man
continuing in his righteousness, and ceasing not from it until death, but even
suffering injury by reason thereof, and a wicked man perishing with his
wickedness. Moreover, it is proper that the righteous man should not seem to be
so overmuch, nor exceedingly and above measure wise, that he may not, as in
making some slip, seem to sin many times over. And be not thou audacious and
precipitate, lest an untimely death surprise thee. It is the greatest of all
good to take hold of God, and by abiding in Him to sin in nothing. For to touch
things undefiled with an impure hand is abomination. But he who in the fear of
God submits himself,49 escapes all that is contrary. Wisdom availeth more in the
way of help than a band of the most powerful men in a city, and it often also
pardons righteously those who fail in duty. For there is not one that stumbleth
not.50 Also it becomes thee in no way to attend upon the words of the impious,
that thou mayest not become an ear-witness51 of words spoken against thyself,
such as the foolish talk of a wicked servant, and being thus stung in heart,
have recourse afterwards thyself to cursing in turn in many actions. And all
these things have I known, having received wisdom from God, which afterwards I
lost, and was no longer able to be the same.52 For wisdom fled from me to an
infinite distance, and into a measureless deep, so that I could no longer get
hold of it. Wherefore afterwards I abstained altogether from seeking it; and I
no longer thought of considering the follies and the vain counsels of the
impious, and their weary, distracted life. And being thus disposed, I was borne
on to the things themselves; and being seized with a fatal passion, I knew
woman-that she is like a snare or some such other object.53 For her heart
ensnares those who pass her; and if she but join hand to hand, she holds one as
securely as though she dragged him on bound with chains.54 And from her you can
secure your deliverance only by finding a propitious and watchful superintendent
in God;55 for he who is enslaved by sin cannot (otherwise) escape its grasp.
Moreover, among all women I sought for the chastity56 proper to them, and I
found it in none. And verily a person may find one man chaste among a thousand,
but a woman never.57 And this above all things I observed, that men being made
by God simple58 in mind, contract59 for themselves manifold reasonings and
infinite questionings, and while professing to seek wisdom, waste their life in
vain words.

Chapter VIII.

Moreover, wisdom, when it is found in a man, shows itself also in its
possessor's face, and makes his countenance to shine; as, on the other hand,
effrontery convicts the man in whom it has taken up its abode, so soon as he is
seen, as one worthy of hatred. And it is on every account right to give careful
heed to the words of the king, and by all manner of means to avoid an oath,
especially one taken in the name of God. It may be fit at the same time to
notice an evil word, but then it is necessary to guard against any blasphemy
against God. For it will not be possible to find fault with Him when He inflicts
any penalty, nor to gainsay the decrees of the Only Lord and King. But it will
be better and more profitable for a man to abide by the holy commandments, and
to keep himself apart from the words of the wicked. For the wise man knows and
discerneth beforehand the judgment, which shall come at the right time, and sees
that it shall be just. For all things in the life of men await the retribution
from above; but the wicked man does not seem to know verily60 that as there is a
mighty providence over him, nothing in the future shall be hid. He knoweth not
indeed the things which shall be; for no man shall be able to announce any one
of them to him duly: for no one shall be found so strong as to be able to
prevent the angel who spoils him of his life;61 neither shall any means be
devised for cancelling in any way the appointed time of death. But even as the
man who is captured in the midst of the battle can only see flight cut off on
every side, so all the impiety of man perisheth utterly together. And I am
astonished, as often as I contemplate what and how great things men have studied
to do for the hurt of their neighbours. But this I know, that the impious are
snatched prematurely from this life, and put out of the way because they have
given themselves to vanity. For whereas the providential judgment62 of God does
not overtake all speedily, by reason of His great long-suffering, and the wicked
is not punished immediately on the commission of his offences,-for this reason
he thinks that he may sin the more, as though he were to get off with impunity,
not understanding that the transgressor shall not escape the knowledge of God
even after a long interval. This, moreover, is the chief good, to reverence God;
for if once the impious man fall away from Him, he shall not be suffered long to
misuse his own folly. But a most vicious and false opinion often prevails among
men concerning both the righteous and the unrighteous. For they form a judgment
contrary to truth regarding each of them; and the man who is really righteous
does not get the credit of being so, while, on the other hand, the impious man
is deemed prudent and upright. And this I judge to be among the most grievous of
errors. Once, indeed, I thought that the chief good consisted in eating and
drinking, and that he was most highly favoured of God who should enjoy these
things to the utmost in his life; and I fancied that this kind of enjoyment was
the only comfort in life. And, accordingly, I gave heed to nothing but to this
conceit, so that neither by night nor by day did I withdraw myself from all
those things which have ever been discovered to minister luxurious delights to
men. And this much I learned thereby, that the man who mingles in these things
shall by no means be able, however sorely he may labour with them, to find the
real good.

Chapter IX.

Now I thought at that time that all men were judged worthy of the same things.
And if any wise man practised righteousness, and withdrew himself from
unrighteousness, and as being sagacious avoided hatred with all (which, indeed,
is a thing well pleasing to God), this man seemed to me to labour in vain. For
there seemed to be one end for the righteous and for the impious, for the good
and for the evil, for the pure and for the impure, for him that worshipped63
God, and for him that worshipped not. For as the unrighteous man and the good,
the man who sweareth a false oath, and the man who avoids swearing altogether,
were suspected by me to be driving toward the same end, a certain sinister
opinion stole secretly into my mind, that all men come to their end in a similar
way. But now I know that these are the reflections of fools, and errors and
deceits. And they assert largely, that he who is dead has perished utterly, and
that the living is to be preferred to the dead, even though he may lie in
darkness, and pass his life-journey after the fashion of a dog, which is better
at least than a dead lion. For the living know this at any rate, that they are
to die; but the dead know not anything, and there is no reward proposed to them
after they have completed their necessary course. Also hatred and love with the
dead have their end; for their envy has perished, and their life also is
extinguished. And he has a portion in nothing who has once gone hence. Error
harping still on such a string, gives also such counsel as this: What meanest
thou, O man, that thou dost not enjoy thyself delicately, and gorge thyself with
all manner of pleasant food, and fill thyself to the full with wine? Dost thou
not perceive that these things are given us from God for our unrestrained
enjoyment? Put on newly washed attire, and anoint thy head with myrrh, and see
this woman and that, and pass thy vain life vainly.64 For nothing else remaineth
for thee but this, neither here nor after death. But avail thou thyself of all
that chanceth; for neither shall any one take account of thee for these things,
nor are the things that are done by men known at all outside the circle of men.
And Hades, whatever that may he, whereunto we are said to depart, has neither
wisdom nor understanding. These are the things which men of vanity speak. But I
know assuredly, that neither shall they who seem the swiftest accomplish that
great race; nor shall those who are esteemed mighty and terrible in the judgment
of men, overcome in that terrible battle. Neither, again, is prudence proved by
abundance of bread, nor is understanding wont to consort with riches. Nor do I
congratulate those who think that all shall find the same things befall them.
But certainly those who indulge such thoughts seem to me to be asleep, and to
fail to consider that, caught suddenly like fishes and birds, they will be
consumed with woes, and meet speedily their proper retribution. Also I estimate
wisdom at so high a price, that I should deem a small and poorly-peopled city,
even though besieged also by a mighty king with his forces, to be indeed great
and powerful, if it had but one wise man, however poor, among its citizens. For
such a man would be able to deliver his city both from enemies and from
entrenchments. And other men, it may be, do not recognise that wise man, poor as
he is; but for my part I greatly prefer the power that resides in wisdom, to
this might of the mere multitude of the people. Here, however, wisdom, as it
dwells with poverty, is held in dishonour. But hereafter it shall be heard
speaking with more authoritative voice than princes and despots who seek after
things evil. For wisdom is also stronger than iron; while the folly of one
individual works danger for many, even though he be an object of contempt to
many.65

Chapter X.

Moreover, flies falling into myrrh, and suffocated therein, make both the
appearance of that pleasant ointment and the anointing therewith an unseemly
thing;66 and to be mindful of wisdom and of folly together is in no way proper.
The wise man, indeed, is his own leader to right actions; but the fool inclines
to erring courses, and will never make his folly available as a guide to what is
noble. Yea, his thoughts also are vain and full of folly. But if ever a hostile
spirit fall upon thee, my friend, withstand it courageously, knowing that God is
able to propitiate67 even a mighty multitude of offences. These also are the
deeds of the prince and father of all wickedness: that the fool is set on high,
while the man richly gifted with wisdom is humbled; and that the slaves of sin
are seen riding on horseback, while men dedicated to God walk on foot in
dishonour, the wicked exulting the while. But if any one devises another's hurt,
he forgets that he is preparing a snare for himself first and alone. And he who
wrecks another's safety, shall fall by the bite of a serpent. But he who
removeth stones, indeed shall undergo no light labour;68 and be who cleaveth
wood shall bear danger with him in his own weapon. And if it chance that the axe
spring out of the handle,69 he who engages in such work shall be put to trouble,
gathering for no good70 and having to put to more of his iniquitous and
shortlived strength.71 The bite of a serpent, again, is stealthy; and the
charmers will not soothe the pain, for they are vain. But the good man doeth
good works for himself and for his neighbours alike; while the fool shall sink
into destruction through his folly. And when he has once opened his mouth, he
begins foolishly and soon comes to an end, exhibiting his senselessness in all.
Moreover, it is impossible for man to know anything, or to learn from man either
what has been from the beginning, or what shall be in the future. For who shall
be the declarer thereof? Besides, the man who knows not to go to the good city,
sustains evil in the eyes and in the whole countenance. And I prophesy woes to
that city the king of which is a youth, and its rulers gluttons. But I call the
good land blessed, the king of which is the son of the free: there those who are
entrusted with the power of ruling shall reap what is good in due season. But
the sluggard and the idler become scoffers, and make the house decay; and
misusing all things for the purposes of their own gluttony, like the ready
slaves of money,72 for a small price they are content to do all that is base and
abject. It is also right to obey kings and rulers or potentates, and not to be
bitter against them, nor to utter any offensive word against them. For there is
ever the risk that what has been spoken in secret may somehow become public. For
swift and winged messengers convey all things to Him who alone is King both rich
and mighty, discharging therein a service which is at once spiritual and
reasonable.

Chapter XI.

Moreover, it is a righteous thing to give (to the needy) of thy bread, and of
those things which are necessary for the support of man's life. For though thou
seemest forthwith to waste it upon some persons, as if thou didst cast thy bread
upon the water, yet in the progress of time thy kindness shall be seen to be not
unprofitable for thee. Also give liberally, and give a portion of thy means to
many; for thou knowest not what the coming day doeth. The clouds, again, do not
keep back their plenteous rains, but discharge their showers upon the earth. Nor
does a tree stand for ever; but even though men may spare it, it shall be
overturned by the wind at any rate. But many desire also to know beforehand what
is to come from the heavens; and there have been those who, scrutinizing the
clouds and waiting for the wind, have had nought to do with reaping and
winnowing, putting their trust in vanity, and being all incapable of knowing
aught of what may come from God in the future; just as men cannot tell what the
woman with child shall bring forth. But sow thou in season, and thus reap thy
fruits whenever the time for that comes on. For it is not manifest what shall be
better than those among all natural things.73 Would, indeed, that all things
turned out well! Truly, when a man considers with himself that the sun is good,
and that this life is sweet, and that it is a pleasant thing to have many years
wherein one can delight himself continually, and that death is a terror and an
endless evil, and a thing that brings us to nought, he thinks that he ought to
enjoy himself in all the present and apparent pleasures of life. And he gives
this counsel also to the young, that they should use to the uttermost74 the
season of their youth, by giving up their minds to all manner of pleasure, and
indulge their passions, and do all that seemeth good in their own eyes, and look
upon that which delighteth, and avert themselves from that which is not so. But
to such a man I shall say this much: Senseless art thou, my friend, in that thou
dost not look for the judgment that shall come from God upon all these things.
And profligacy and licentiousness are evil, and the filthy wantonness of our
bodies carries death in it. For folly attends on youth, and folly leads to
destruction.

Chapter XII.

Moreover, it is fight that thou shouldest fear God while thou art yet young,
before thou givest thyself over to evil things, and before the great and
terrible day of God cometh, when the sun shall no longer shine, neither the
moon, nor the rest of the stars, but when in that storm and commotion of all
things, the powers above shall be moved, that is, the angels who guard the
world; so that the mighty men shall fail, and the women shall cease their
labours, and shall flee into the dark places of their dwellings, and shall have
all the doors shut. And a woman shall be restrained from grinding by fear, and
shall speak with the weakest voice, like the tiniest bird; and all the impure
women shall sink into the earth; and cities and their blood-stained governments
shall wait for the vengeance that comes from above, while the most bitter and
bloody of all times hangs over them like a blossoming almond, and continuous
punishments impend like a multitude of flying locusts, and the transgressors are
cast out of the way like a black and despicable caper-plant. And the good man
shall depart with rejoicing to his own everlasting habitation; but the vile
shall fill all their places with wailing, and neither silver laid up in store,
nor proved gold, shall be of use any more. For a mighty stroke75 shall fall upon
all things, even to the pitcher that standeth by the well, and the wheel of the
vessel which may chance to have been left in the hollow, when the course of time
comes to its end76 and the ablution-bearing period of a life that is like water
has passed away.77 And for men who lie on earth there is but one salvation, that
their souls acknowledge and wing their way to Him by whom they have been made. I
say, then, again what I have said already, that man's estate is altogether vain,
and that nothing can exceed the utter vanity which attaches to the objects of
man's inventions. And superfluous is my labour in preaching discreetly, inasmuch
as I am attempting to instruct a people here, so indisposed to receive either
teaching or healing. And truly the noble man is needed for the understanding of
the words of wisdom. Moreover, I, though already aged, and having passed a long
life, laboured to find out those things which are well-pleasing to God, by means
of the mysteries of the truth. And I know that the mind is no less quickened and
stimulated by the precepts of the wise, than the body is wont to be when the
goad is applied, or a nail is fastened in it.78 And some will render again those
wise lessons which they have received from one good pastor and teacher, as if
all with one mouth and in mutual concord set forth in larger detail the truths
committed to them. But in many words there is no profit. Neither do I counsel
thee, my friend, to write down vain things about what is fitting,79 from which
there in nothing to be gained but weary labour. But, in fine, I shall require to
use some such conclusion as this: O men, behold, I charge you now expressly and
shortly, that ye fear God, who is at once the Lord and the Overseer80 of all,
and that ye keep also His commandments; and that ye believe that all shall be
judged severally in the future, and that every man shall receive the just
recompense for his deeds, whether they be good or whether they be evil.81 1:
Gallandi, Biblioth. Vet. Patr. , iii. 387.

2: [The wise benevolence of our author is more apparent than his critical skill.
No book more likely to puzzle a pagan inquirer than this: so the metaphrase
gives it meaning and consistency; but, over and over again, not Solomon's
meaning, I am persuaded.]

3: ta\ pneu/mata , for which some propose r9eu/mata , streams, as the a#nemoi
are mentioned in their own place immediately.

4: nu=n e0kklhsia/zwn .

5: poikilwta/th/ .

6: a0topi/a

7: The text is, tuflo/j te w#n yn\n pro/soyin kai\ u9po tou= sko/touj tw=n
pragma/twn a0fhrhme/noj , for which it is proposed to read, tuflo/j te w#/n kai\
th\n pri/soyin upo\ tou= sko/touj , etc.

8: Or, as the Latin version puts it: And, in fine, when I considered the
difference between these modes of life, I found nothing but that, by setting
myself, etc.

9: a0ndrei/aj .

10: The text reads e0nantiwth/twn , for which Codex Anglicus has e0nantiwta/twn
.

11: Or, age.

12: pla/sma .

13: Or, Him.

14: The Greek text is, kairosko/poj dh/ tij ponhro\j to\n aiw=na you=to/
perikexhnen, afanisai u9perdiateino/menoj to\ tou= Qeou= pla/sma, ec a0rxh=j
au0tw=| mexri te/louj polemei=n gFrhme/noj . It is well to notice how widely
this differs from our version of iii. 11: "He hath made everything beautiful in
his time," etc.

15: The text is, w\| tini ou\n, a0ll' e!stin, e0keina fobera/ te o0mou= kai0
qaumasta/ .

16: su/stasin .

17: [The key to the interpretation of this book, as to much of the book of Job,
is found in the brief expostulation of Jeremiah (chap. xii. 1), where he
confesses his inability to comprehend the world and God's ways therein, yet
utters a profession of unshaken confidence in His goodness. Here Solomon, in
monologue, gives vent to similar misgivings; overruling all in the wonderful ode
with which the book concludes. I say Solomon , not unadvisedly.] 18: sukofantiwn
.

19: The text is, bia katablhme/noi tw=n e0pamuno/ntwn h# o#lwj papauqhsome/nwn
au0tou\j pantaxo/qen katexou/shj a0pori/aj . The sense is not clear. It may be:
who are struck down in spite of those who protect them, and who should by all
means comfort them when all manner of trouble presses them on all sides.

20: xeirodikai .

21: Following the reading of Cod. Medic., which puts tiqe/menoj for tiqe/menon ,
[See Cyprian, vol. v. p. 493, note 7, this series.] 22: protropa/dhn .

23: xphmatisasqai .

24: koinwnian a#ma bi/ou e0stei/lanto .

25: a0nakthsome0non .

26: The text is, kai\ nu/ktwr semno/thti semnu/nesqai , for which certain
codices read semno/thti faidru/nesqai , and others faidro/thti semnunesqai .

27: Jerome cites the passage in his Commentary on Ecclesiastes [iv. 12].

28: Tou\j o#soi progene/steroi . The sense is incomplete, and some words seem
missing in the text. Jerome, in rendering this passage in his Commentary on
Ecclesiastes, turns it thus: ita autem ut sub sene rege versati sint ; either
having lighted on a better manuscript, or adding something of his own authority
to make out the meaning.

29: dia to\ e/terou a0peira/tej e#xein .

30: eu0staqou/sh.

31: e0n th= peri\ lo/gouj spoudh|= .

32: a0ndrei/ouj .

33: kaqora=n.

34: Job xx. 20.

35: Job i. 21; 1 Tim. vi. 7.

36: arpaktika/ in the text, for which the Cod. Medic. has a9rpakta/ .

37: e\nqumou/menoj.

38: qanaton pei=ran ou0 labw/n , for which we must read probably qana/tou , etc.

39: The text gives, h#per tw|= ponhrw|= ... a0nametrhsamenw| a0gaqothta mh\
e0pignw| , for which we may read either h#per tw|= ponhrw|= ... anametrhsa/menoj
... e0pignw|= , or better,... a0nametrhsamenw| ... e0pignw=nai .

40: e0cisthai .

41: tou= o0fqh=nai .

42: Prov. xxii. 1.

43: katorqou=tai .

44: Calumny, sukofanti/a .

45: e#nstasin.

46: lo/gwn de/ , etc. But Cod. Medic. reads, lo/gon de/ , etc.,=it is right to
commend a speech not in its beginning, but in its end.

47: fanerwte/ra , for which fanote/ra is proposed.

48: perigi/gnetai .

49: u0pei/kwn .

50: 1 Kings viii. 46; 2 Chron. vi. 36; Prov. xx. 9; 1 John i. 8.

51: au0th/kooj

52: o#moioj .

53: The text is evidently corrupt: for th0n gunai=ka, gh=n tina/ . etc.,
Cotelerius proposes, th0n gunai=ka, sagh/nhn tina/ , etc.; and Bengel, pa/ghn
tina/, etc.

54: kate/xei h# ei0 . This use of h# ei0 is characteristic of Gregory
Thaumaturgus. We find it again in his Panegyr. ad Orig. , ch. 6, h# ei kai\
para\ pa/ntaj , etc. It may be added, therefore, to the proofs in support of a
common authorship for these two writings.

55: e0po/pthn .

56: swfrosu/nhn .

57: [Our English version gives no such idea, nor does that of the LXX. The
swfrosu/nh of our author is discretion , or perhaps entire balance of mind.
Wordsworth gives us the thought better in his verse: "A perfect woman, nobly
planned." It was not in Judaism to give woman her place: the Magnificat of the
Virgin celebrated the restoration of her sex.] 58: Upright, a9ploi= .

59: e0pispw=ntai .

60: li/an .

61: yuxh/n .

62: pro/noia .

63: ilaskomenou .

64: The text gives, ka9kei/nhn de\ matai/wj , etc.

65: ka#n polloi=j katafro/nhtoj h|[ ; so the Cod. Bodleian. and the Cod. Medic.
read. But others read polu/ = an object of great contempt. For katafro/nhtoj the
Cod. Medic. reads eu0katafro/nhtoj .

66: The text gives xri/sin , for which Cod. Medic. reads, xrh=sin , use.

67: i9la/sasqai .

68: Reading a0lla\ mhxn for a0lla\ mh' .

69: steleou , for which others read stele/xouj .

70: ou/k e0p' a0laqw|= sulkomi/zw/ .

71: e/pau/cwn au0to\j tn\n e0autou= a#dikon kai\ w0ku/moron du/namin .

72: a0rguri/w| a0gw/gimoi .

73: o9poi=a au0tw=n e#stai a0mei/nw tw=n fue/ntwn , perhaps = which of those
natural productions shall be the better.

74: kataxrh=sqai .

75: kaqe/cei plhgh/ ,Oecolampadius renders it, magnus enim fons , evidently
reading phgh/ .

76: The text is, e0n tw|= koilw/mati pausame/nhj xro/non te peridromh=j , for
which we may read, e0n tw|= koilw/mati, pausamenh=j xro/nwn te peridromh=j .
Others apparently propose for pausamenh=j, decamenh=j = at the hollow of the
cistern.

77: The text is, kai\ th=j di' udatoj zwh=j parodeu/santoj tou= loutrofo/rou
ai0w=noj . Billius understands the age to be called loutrofo/rou , because, as
long as we are in life, it is possible to obtain remission for any sin, or as
referring to the rite of baptism.

78: hlw| e0mperonhqe/nta . The Septuagint reads, lo/goi sofw=n w9j ta\
bou/kentra kai\ w9j h[loi pefuteume/noi , like nails planted, etc. Others read
pepurwme/noi, igniti. The Vulg. has, quasi clavi in altum defixi.

79: peri\ to\ prosh=kon , for which some read, para\ to\ prosh=kon , beyond or
contrary to what is fitting.

80: e0po/pthj .

81: [The incomparable beauty of our English version of this twelfth chapter of
Koheleth is heightened not a little by comparison with this turgid metaphrase,
It fails, in almost every instance, to extract the kernel of the successive
stixoi of this superlatively poetic and didactic threnode. It must have been a
youthful work.]


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 3: CANONICAL EPISTLE
========================================================================

Canonical Epistle.1

Canon I.

Canon II.

Canon III.

Canon IV.

Canon V.

Canon VI.13

Canon VII.14

Canon VIII.17

Canon IX.19

Canon X.

Canon XI.24 Canonical Epistle.1

--------

Canon I. The meats are no burden to us, most holy father,2 if the captives ate
things which their conquerors set before them, especially since there is one
report from all, viz., that the barbarians who have made inroads into our parts
have not sacrificed to idols. For the apostle says, "Meats for the belly, and
the belly for meats: but God shall destroy both it and them."3 But the Saviour
also, who cleanseth all meats, says, "Not that which goeth into a man defileth
the man, but that which cometh out."4 And this meets the case of the captive
women defiled by the barbarians, who outraged their bodies. But if the previous
life of any such person convicted him of going, as it is written, after the eyes
of fornicators, the habit of fornication evidently becomes an object of
suspicion also in the time of captivity. And one ought not readily to have
communion with such women in prayers. If any one, however, has lived in the
utmost chastity, and has shown in time past a manner of life pure and free from
all suspicion, and now falls into wantonness through force of necessity, we have
an example for our guidance,-namely, the instance of the damsel in Deuteronomy,
whom a man finds in the field, and forces her and lies with her. "Unto the
damsel," he says, "ye shall do nothing; there is in the damsel no sin worthy of
death: for as when a man riseth against his neighbour, and slayeth him, even so
is this matter: the damsel cried, and there was none to help her."5

Canon II.

Covetousness is a great evil; and it is not possible in a single letter to set
forth those scriptures in which not robbery alone is declared to be a thing
horrible and to be abhorred, but in general the grasping mind, and the
disposition to meddle with what belongs to others, in order to satisfy the
sordid love of gain. And all persons of that spirit are excommunicated from the
Church of God. But that at the time of the irruption, in the midst of such woful
sorrows and bitter lamentations, some should have been audacious enough to
consider the crisis which brought destruction to all the very period for their
own private aggrandizement, that is a thing which can be averred only of men who
are impious and hated of God, and of unsurpassable iniquity. Wherefore it seemed
good to excommunicate such persons, lest the wrath (of God) should come upon the
whole people, and upon those first of all who are set over them in office, and
yet fail to make inquiry. For I am afraid, as the Scripture says, lest the
impious work the destruction of the righteous along with his own.6 "For
fornication," it says,7 "and covetousness are things on account of which the
wrath of God cometh upon the children of disobedience. Be not ye therefore
partakers with them. For ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the
Lord: walk as children of light (for the fruit of the light8 is in all goodness,
and righteousness, and truth), proving what is acceptable unto the Lord. And
have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove
them; for it is a shame even to speak of those things which are done of them in
secret. But all things that are reproved are made manifest by the light." In
this wise speaks the apostle. But if certain parties who pay the proper penalty
for that former covetousness of theirs, which exhibited itself in the time of
peace, now turn aside again to the indulgence of covetousness in the very time
of trouble (i.e., in the troubles of the inroads by the barbarians), and make
gain out of the blood and ruin of men who have been utterly despoiled, or taken
captive, (or) put to death, what else ought to be expected, than that those who
struggle so hotly for covetousness should heap up wrath both for themselves and
for the Whole people?

Canon III.

Behold, did not Achar9 the son of Zata transgress in the accursed thing, and
trouble then lighted on all the congregation of Israel? And this one man was
alone in his sin; but he was not alone in the death that came by his sin. And by
us, too, everything of a gainful kind at this time, which is ours not in our own
rightful possession, but as property strictly belonging to others, ought to be
reckoned a thing devoted. For that Achar indeed took of the spoil; and those men
of the present time take also of the spoil. But he took what belonged to
enemies; whine these now take what belongs to brethren, and aggrandize
themselves with fatal gains.

Canon IV.

Let no one deceive himself, nor put forward the pretext of having found such
property. For it is not lawful, even for a man who has found anything, to
aggrandize himself by it. For Deuteronomy says: "Thou shalt not see thy
brother's ox or his sheep go astray in the way, and pay no heed to them; but
thou shalt in any wise bring them again unto thy brother. And if thy brother
come not nigh thee, or if thou know him not, then thou shalt bring them
together, and they shall be with thee until thy brother seek after them, and
thou shalt restore them to him again. And in like manner shalt thou do with his
ass, and so shalt thou do with his raiment, and so shalt thou do with all lost
things of thy brother's, which he hath lost, and thou mayest find."10 Thus much
in Deuteronomy. And in the book of Exodus it is said, with reference not only to
the case of finding what is a friend's, but also of finding what is an enemy's:
"Thou shalt surely bring them back to the house of their master again."11 And if
it is not lawful to aggrandize oneself at the expense of another, whether he be
brother or enemy, even in the time of peace, when he is living at his ease and
delicately, and without concern as to his property, how much more must it be the
case when one is met by adversity, and is fleeing from his enemies, and has had
to abandon his possessions by force of circumstances!

Canon V. But others deceive themselves by fancying that they can retain the
property of others which they may have found as an equivalent for their own
property which they have lost. In this way verily, just as the Boradi and Goths
brought the havoc of war on them, they make themselves Boradi and Goths to
others. Accordingly we have sent to you our brother and comrade in old age,
Euphrosynus, with this view, that he may deal with you in accordance with our
model here, and teach you against whom you ought to admit accusations,12 and
whom you ought to exclude from your prayers.

Canon VI.13

Moreover, it has been reported to us that a thing has happened in your country
which is surely incredible, and which, if done at all, is altogether the work of
unbelievers, and impious men, and men who know not the very name of the Lord; to
wit, that some have gone to such a pitch of cruelty and inhumanity, as to be
detaining by force certain captives who have made their escape. Dispatch ye
commissioners into the country, lest the thunderbolts of heaven fall all too
surely upon those who perpetrate such deeds.

Canon VII.14

Now, as regards those who have been enrolled among the barbarians, and have
accompanied them in their irruption in a state of captivity, and who, forgetting
that they were from Pontus, and Christians, have become such thorough
barbarians, as even to put those of their own race to death by the gibbet15 or
strangulation, and to show their roads or houses to the barbarians, who else
would have been ignorant of them, it is necessary for you to debar such persons
even from being auditors in the public congregations,16 until some common
decision about them is come to by the saints assembled in council, and by the
Holy Spirit antecedently to them.

Canon VIII.17

Now those who have been so audacious as to invade the houses of others, if they
have once been put on their trial and convicted, ought not to be deemed fit even
to be hearers in the public congregation. But if they have declared themselves
and made restitution, they should be placed in the rank of the repentant.18

Canon IX.19

Now, those who have found in the open field or in their own houses anything left
behind them by the barbarians, if they have once been put on their trial and
convicted, ought to fall under the same class of the repentant. But if they,
have declared themselves and made restitution, they ought to be deemed fit for
the privilege of prayer.20

Canon X. And they who keep the commandment ought to keep it without any sordid
covetousness, demanding neither recompense,21 nor reward,22 nor fee,23 nor
anything else that bears the name of acknowledgment.

Canon XI.24

Weeping25 takes place without the gate of the oratory; and the offender standing
there ought to implore the faithful as they enter to offer up prayer on his
behalf. Waiting on the word,26 again, takes place within the gate in the
porch,27 where the offender ought to stand until the catechumens depart, and
thereafter he should go forth. For let him hear the Scriptures and doctrine, it
is said, and then be put forth, and reckoned unfit for the privilege of prayer.
Submission,28 again, is that one stand within the gate of the temple, and go
forth along with the catechumens. Restoration29 is that one be associated with
the faithful, and go not forth with the catechumens; and last of all comes the
participation in the holy ordinances.30

1: Of the holy Gregory, archbishop of Neo-Caesareia, surnamed Thaumaturgus,
concerning those who, in the inroad of the barbarians, ate things sacrificed to
idols, or offended in certain other matters. Gallandi, iii. p. 400. [Written
A.D. 258 or 262.] There are scholia in Latin by Theodorus Balsamon and Joannes
Zonaras on these canons. The note of the former on the last canon may be
cited:-The present saint has defined shortly five several positions for the
penitent; but he has not indicated either the times appointed for their
exercise, or the sins for which discipline is determined. Basil the Great,
again, has handed down to us an accurate account of these things in his
canonical epistles. [Elucidation II.] Yet he, too, has referred to episcopal
decision the matter of recovery through penalties [i.e., to the decision of his
comprovincial bishops, as in Cyprian's example. See vol. v. p. 415, Elucidation
XIII.; also Elucidation I. p. 20, infra 2: [Elucidation III. p. 20.] 3: 1 Cor.
vi. 13.

4: Matt. xv. 11.

5: Deut. xxii. 26, 27.

6: Gen. xviii. 23, 25.

7: Eph v. 5-13.

8: tou= fwto/j for the received pneu/matoj .

9: Josh. vii.

10: Deut. xxii. 1-3.

11: Ex. xxiii. 4.

12: w[n dei= ta\j kathgori/aj prosi/esqai.

13: Concerning those who forcibly detain captives escaped from the barbarians.

14: Concerning those who have been enrolled among the barbarians, and who have
dared to do certain monstrous things against those of the same race with
themselves.

15: culw| .

16: a0kroa/sewj .

17: Concerning those who have been so audacious as to invade the houses of
others in the inroad of the barbarians.

18: tw=n u9postrefo/ntwn .

19: Concerning those who have found in the open field or in private houses
property left behind them by the barbarians.

20: [Partially elucidated below in (the spurious) Canon XI. See Marshall's
Penitential Discipline of the Primitive Church. ] 21: mh/nutra , the price of
information.

22: sw=stpa the reward for bringing back a runaway slave.

23: eu#retpa , the reward of discovery.

24: [This canon is rejected as spurious. Lardner Credib. , ii. p. 633.] 25:
pro/sklausij , discipline.

26: a0kro/asij.

27: e0n tw|= na/rqhki.

28: u9po/ptwsij.

29: su/stasij.

30: a9giasma/twn.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 4: HOMILY CONCERNING THE HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, EVER-VIRGIN
========================================================================

Gregory Thaumaturgus, Homily concerning the Holy Mother of God. The Expositor
5th series vol.3 (1896) pp.161-173 ON AN ANTE-NICENE HOMILY OF GREGORY
THAUMATURGUS.

NOTE OF TRANSLATOR (F. C. CONYBEARE).

[The following Armenian homily of Gregory Thaumaturgus was printed for the first
time in the journal called Ararat, of the convent of Etschmiadzin, for
September, 1895. It is unknown in Greek. The text so printed, and here
translated, is contained in an old book of homilies in the Etschmiadzin library.
It is also found in a MS. of San Lazaro, Djarrentir, No. 3; but apparently
without title.

It is quite in the style of the other homilies ascribed to this father. These are by some (e.g., Harnack, Altchristliche Literatur bis Eusebius, p. 431) accounted spurious. Why I cannot understand; for they are found, whether in Greek, or in Syriac, or in Armenian, with the constant ascription to this Gregory. Why should a later age have forged an entire series of homilies and ascribed them to him? 1 If they were Tentenzschriften, i.e., homilies written with a certain and marked doctrinal bias of some kind, their forgery would be intelligible. But they cannot be accused of being this. They are just the pious and rather rhetorical outpourings of a devout and simple mind. This homily may therefore be accepted as an example of the Pulpit eloquence of this Gregory. About the middle of the third century it must have stirred some congregation in Neo-Caesarea. It is very florid, and in its refrains more like a hymn than a sermon. To a modern reader it must needs appear a rather tawdry effort. But the image of Christ as Spring in §26 in a measure redeems the whole piece, and some other thoughts as well are prettily worked out. |162 The Armenian is often obscure, and contains several compounds not otherwise known. I have rendered it quite literally. It was made from Greek. For convenience I have broken it up into sections, adding in square brackets the few words required here and there to make grammar or sense.----F. C. C] The Homily of St. Gregory the Wonder-worker, concerning the Holy Mother of God, ever-virgin.

1. When I remember the disobedience of Eve, I weep. But when I view the fruit of
Mary, I am again renewed. Deathless by descent, invisible through beauty, before
the ages light of light; of God the Father wast Thou begotten; being Word and
Son of God, Thou didst take on flesh from Mary Virgin, in order that Thou
mightest renew afresh Adam fashioned by Thy holy hand.

2. Holy, deathless, eternal, inaccessible, without change, without turn, True
Son of God art Thou before the ages; yet wast pleased to be conceived and formed
in the womb of the Holy Virgin, in order that Thou mightest make alive once more
man first fashioned by Thy holy hand, but dead through sin.

3. By the good pleasure Thou didst issue forth, by the good pleasure and will of
the invisible Father. Wherefore we all invoke Thee, calling Thee King. Be Thou
our succour; Thou that wast born of the Virgin and wrapt in swaddling clothes
and laid in the manger, and wast suckled by Mary; to the end that Thou mightest
make alive once more the first-created Adam that was dead through sin.

4. Feasted with knowledge from the Divine knowledge, let us emit like a fountain
the sweetly sounding hymns of praise; let us glorify the sweet powers of the
Divine Word. With sweetly sounding doctrine let us send forth praise worthy of
the Divine grace; forasmuch as earth, and sea, and all created things, visible
and invisible, bless and |163 glorify God's love for man; for that His majesty
was among [us]. For being God He appeared in the flesh, and taking on Himself
extreme humility, was born of the Holy Virgin, to the end that He might renew
afresh him that was dead through disobedience.

5. Turn ye, O congregations, and come. Let us all praise Him that is born of the
Virgin. For that being the glory and image before the ages of the Godhead, He
yet became a fellow-sufferer with us of poverty. Being the exceeding magnifical
power [and] image of God, He took on the form of a slave. He that putteth on the
light as a garment, consorted with men as one that is vile. He that is hymned by
cherubim and by myriad angels, as a citizen on earth doth He live.2 He that
being before (all) maketh all creation alive, was born of the Holy Virgin, in
order that He might make alive once more the first created.

6. Christ our God took on [Himself] to begin life as man (lit. the beginning of
humanity), being yet a sharer of the [life] without beginning of God the Father;
in order to lift up unto the beginningless beginning of the Godhead man that was
fallen.

7. And He took the form of a slave from the Holy Virgin, in order to call us up
to the glorified dominical image. He put on the outward shape made of clay, that
He might make [us] sharers of the heavenly form. He sat in the lap of the Holy
Virgin, that He might place us on the right hand in the intimacy of His Father.
In a vile body was He; and by means of the same He was laid in a tomb, that He
might manifest us heirs of eternal life. In the womb of the Holy Virgin was He,
the incomprehensible (or inaccessible) one, confined; in order that He might
renew the Adam destroyed through sin.

8. Power of the Father and living font, Christ our God, [He] is the life-fraught
mystery, in whom even through |164 [His] living voice we believed; life without
end He freely bestows on those who hope in Him, and with the Spirit of grace He
illumines the races of men. From this fountain, living and ever-flowing and of
sweet taste, whosoever in faith are athirst are filled and sated.

9. Wherefore even with one voice [let us sing the praises] of God the Word, that
according to the worthiness of each is cause and promoter of salvation, unto
young men and old, and unto children and women. For from Mary, the divine
fountain of the ineffable Godhead, gushes forth grace and free gift of the Holy
Spirit. From a single Holy Virgin the Pearl of much price proceeded, in order to
make alive once more the first-created man that was dead through sin.

10. He is the Sun of Righteousness, dawning upon earth; and in the fashion of a
man He deigned to come unto our race. Having hidden in the coarse matter of
humanity the effulgent splendour of His Godhead, and having filled [us] with the
Divine Spirit, He hath also made us worthy to sing unto Him the angelic hymn of
praise.

11. Let us twine, as with a wreath, the souls (or selves) [of them that love the
festival and love to hearken] 3 with golden blossoms, fain to be crowned with
wreaths from the unfading gardens; and offering in our hands the fair-fruited
flowers of Christ, let us gather [them]. For the God-like temple of the Holy
Virgin is meet to be glorified with such a crown; because the illumining Pearl
cometh forth, to the end that it may raise up again into the ever-streaming
light them that were gone down into darkness and the shadow of death.

12. Regaled with the medicine (lit. poison) of the Divine words of Christ unto
the grace of the same, let us send up unto Him some worthy hymn. Let us hasten
to gather up |165 the fruits of the mystery of immortality. Let us hasten to
inhale the perfume of the God-clad symmetry (or harmony). In [our] language let
us luxuriate in the Divine grace, and let us hasten to drive away from us the
foul odour of sin. Let us rather clothe us in the sweet savour of the works of
righteousness. Having put on ourselves the breastplate of faith, and the garb of
a virtuous life, and the holy and spotless raiment of purity, let us fast (or?
keep guard). For He is excellence, and hath His dwelling with peace, and is
yoke-fellow of love and consorteth [therewith]; a blossom smelling of hope. And
the lambs which in faith browse upon this shoot forth the light-like rod of the
Trinity. But we, O my friends, resorting to the garden of the Saviour, let us
praise the Holy Virgin; saying along with the angels in the language of Divine
grace, "Rejoice thou and be glad." For from her first shone forth the eternally
radiant light, that lighteth us with its goodness.

13. The Holy Virgin is herself both an honourable temple of God and a shrine
made pure, and a golden altar of whole burnt offerings. By reason of her
surpassing purity [she is] the Divine incense of oblation ( = προθέσεως), and
oil of the holy grace, and a precious vase bearing in itself the true nard; [yea
and] the priestly diadem revealing the good pleasure of God, whom she alone
approacheth holy in body and soul. [She is] the door which looks eastward, and
by the comings in and goings forth the whole earth is illuminated. The fertile
olive from which the Holy Spirit took the fleshly slip (or twig) of the Lord,
and saved the suffering race of men. She is the boast of virgins, and the joy of
mothers; the declaration of archangels, even as it was spoken: "Be thou glad and
rejoice, the Lord with thee"; and again, "from thee"; in order that He may make
new once more the dead through sin. |166

14. Thou didst allow her to remain a virgin, and wast pleased, O Lord, to lie in
the Virgin's womb, sending in advance the archangel to announce it [to her]. But
he from above, from the ineffable hosts, came unto Mary, and first heralded to
her the tidings: "Be thou glad and rejoice." And he also added, "The Lord with
thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb." But
she was in tumult, and pondered in her mind what sort of tidings was this. But
then in seemly fashion, I ween, the grace chose out the Holy Virgin; for she was
wise in all ways, nor was there her like among women of all nations.

15. Not as the first virgin did she, being alone in the garden, with loose and
effeminate thought accept the advice of the serpent and destroy the thought of
her heart; through whom came all the toil and sorrow of the saint. But such was
the Holy Virgin that by her the former's transgressions also were rectified.
Nor, like Sarah, when she had good tidings that she would bear a son, did she
rashly laugh; nor like Rebekah, who, with the temper of a deserter, accepted the
ornaments, and willingly gave water to drink unto the camels of her betrothed.
And unlike all other women, she did not accept the grace of greeting
indiscreetly (or without testing it), but only through thought bright and clear
(or through glittering thought).

16. Whence then dost thou bring with thee to us such a blessing? and [out] of
what treasure-houses has been sent to us the Pearl of the Word? I would fain
know what is the gift, and who is bearer of the Word, or indeed who is the
sender thereof. From heaven thou earnest, the form of man thou displayest, and
dost radiate forth a blaze (or torch) of light.

17. These things in herself the Holy Virgin asked in doubt. But the angel with
such words as these solved her |167 doubts: "The Holy Spirit shall come unto
thee, and the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee. Wherefore thou shalt
conceive and shalt bear a Son, and shalt call His name Jesus, unto the end that
He save the race of men from the death of sin."

18. The Virgin spake in turn unto the angel: My mind swims in thy words as in a
sea. How shall this be unto me? for I desire not to know an earthly man, because
I have devoted myself to the heavenly Bridegroom. I desire to remain a virgin. I
wish not to betray the honour of my virginity.

19. Again in such words as these the angel confirmed the holy Virgin: Fear not,
Mary. For 'tis not to frighten thee I came, but to dispel all thought of fear.
Fear not, Mary; for thou hast found grace at God's hands. Scan not too narrowly
the grace, since it deigns not to give way to the laws of nature. The Holy
Spirit shall come unto thee; wherefore that which is born of thee is holy and
Son of God, sharer of the form and sharer of the substance, and sharer of the
eternity of the Father; in whom the Father, having acquired all manifestations,
hath the adumbration (? of Himself) face to face,4 and by means of the light the
glory gleameth forth.

20. Great is the mystery. Thou hast learned, O Mary, that which till now was
hidden from angels. Thou hast known that which deaf prophets and patriarchs
heard not; and thou hast heard that which the choirs of the God-clad were not
ever held worthy to hear. David and Isaiah, and all the prophets foretold in
their preaching about the Lord's becoming man. But do thou alone, O Holy Virgin,
receive the mystery unknown by them, and learn and be not perplexed as to how
this shall be unto thee. For He that fashioned man out of virgin soil, the
Selfsame shall even now do as. He will for the salvation of His creature. |168

21. New radiance now of eternal light gleams forth for us in the inspired
fitness (or harmony) of these words. Now is it meet and fitting for me to wonder
after the manner of the Holy Virgin, to whom in seemly wise before all things
the angel gave salutation thus: "Be thou glad and rejoice"; because with her are
quickened and live, all the treasures of grace. Among all nations she alone was
both virgin and mother and without knowledge of man, holy in body and soul.
Among all nations she alone was made worthy to bring forth God; alone she
carried in her Him 5 who carries along all by His word.

22. And not only is it meet to marvel at the beauty of the Holy Mother of God,
but also at the excellence of her spirit. Wherefore were addressed to her the
words: "The Lord with thee"; and again also, "The Lord from thee." As if this: "
He will save him that is in His image as being pitiful." As purse of the Divine
mystery the Holy Virgin made herself ready, in which the Pearl of Life was
enveloped in flesh and sealed; and she also became the receptacle of
supramundane and Divine salvation.

23. Therefore let us also come, O my friends, and discharge our debt
according to our ability; and following the voice of the archangel, let us cry
aloud: "Be thou glad and rejoice; the Lord with thee." Nor any
heavenly bridegroom He, but the very Lord Himself, the Father of purity and the
guardian of virginity, and the Lord of holiness, the creator of inviolability,
and the giver of freedom, overseer of salvation, and ordainer of true wisdom and
bestower thereof----the Lord Himself with thee; for as much as even in thee the
Divine grace reposed [and] upon thee, in order to make alive the race of men
like a compassionate Lord.

24. Not any more doth Adam fear the crafty serpent; |169 because our Lord is
come and hath dispersed the host of the enemy. Not any more doth the race of men
fear the craftiness and mad deceit of the serpent, because the Lord hath bruised
the head of the dragon in the water of baptism. Not any more do I fear to hear
the words: Dust thou wast, and unto dust shalt thou be turned. For the Lord in
baptism hath washed away the stain of sin. Not any more do I weep, nor ever
lament, nor ever reckon it again to wretchedness, when the thorns wound me. For
our Lord hath plucked out by the roots the sins which are our thorns,6 and hath
crowned His head withal. Loosed is the first curse in which He said: Thorns and
thistles shall earth bring forth to thee, for the thorn is plucked out by the
roots, and the thistle withered up; and from the Holy Virgin hath shot up the
tree of life and grace. No more doth Eva fear the reproach of the pangs of
childbirth; for by the Holy Virgin her transgressions are blotted out and
effaced; forasmuch as in her was God born, to the end that He might make alive
him whom He made in His image.

25. A bulwark of imperishable life hath the Holy Virgin become unto us,
and a fountain of light to those who have faith in Christ; a sunrise of the
reasonable light 7 is she found to be. Be thou glad and rejoice. The
Lord with thee and from thee, who in His Godhead and His manhood is perfect, in
whom dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead: "Be glad and rejoice, the
Lord with thee and from thee" ----with His handmaid the Lord of glory; with
her that is unspotted, He that halloweth all; with the beautiful, He who is
wonderful in beauty above all the sons of men, to the end that He may make alive
him whom He made in His image.

26. In the Divine words of the Teacher we believe and |170 rejoice; for with
roses and lilies and fragrant wreaths Christ, our imperishable Spring, hath come
unto us, and hath filled the fair garden of the churches, even the seed-plots of
our hearts, from the paradise of God. So then with holy heart let us draw nigh,
and find the golden faith gleaming wide and the fruits of immortality smelling
sweet therein. For in the desert of Mary the fair-fruited tree hath shot up,
that like one holy and pitiful, He may make alive His creature.

27. Holy and wise in all things was the all-blessed Virgin; in all ways peerless
among all nations, and unrivalled among women. Not as the first virgin Eva, who
being alone in the garden, was in her weak mind led astray by the serpent; and
so took his advice and brought death into the world; and because of that hath
been all the suffering of saints. But in her alone, in this Holy Virgin Mary,
the Stem of Life hath shot up for us. For she alone was spotless in soul and
body.

28. With intrepid mind she spake to the angel: Whence is this salutation, and
how shall this be unto me? Dost thou desire to learn how the exceeding
magnifical power becomes a fellow-sufferer with us of our poverty? How He that
hath power over the hosts assumes the image of our baseness; and how He who is
God before the ages is about to become a child and be made flesh, He that
putteth on light as a garment and giveth life unto His creature. Grant me, said
the Holy Virgin, to learn such an impenetrable mystery, and I become the vessel
that receives the Divine mystery (or thought), being overshadowed by the Holy
Spirit, and [I am] to receive the truth of His flesh in my flesh, unto the
building by Wisdom of her abode.

29. The Word becometh flesh and dwelleth in us, that is, in the same flesh,
which it took from us; and by the spirit of its native self (or soul) it
spiritualises [itself]. And the unchangeable God accepts the form of a slave, to
the end |171 that He be regarded by the faithful as man; but that He may be
manifested as God to the unfaithful, in order to renew the first-created.

30. The element of flesh doth the Son of God take from the Holy Virgin, for
before the ages He is God. He hath deigned to be born, and to be called Son of
man, and to become visible, He the invisible; and for our sake to be poor, who
is all riches; and to suffer as man, He the impassible and deathless. For with
(or in) the flesh in truth He was united, but He was not changed in spirit. In a
mortal body the Invisible One was enveloped, that He might make it also
deathless, making it sharer of His deathlessness through His Godhead; to the end
that He might renew him that was fashioned by His holy hands.

31. Glory and light are come into the world, Christ our God. He glorifies and
illumines with His ever-streaming light, to whom the voice of the unseen Father
bore witness: "Yonder is My Son and Word, who is before the ages."

32. But Mary was fortified by the word of the angel; but pondered in herself the
birth of the Lord, confronted with the disparity of human thought. Now she
lifted herself up to the lofty plane of the Divine, now again her mind was
occupied with the lowliness of humanity. And thus as in the scale of reflection
she balances the one and the other; even in that moment she becometh truly
worthy of the design (or mind, or? entrance) of God. For she (or He) that
preserved the treasure of her virginity pure and untarnished, she (or He) also
made the boundaries of her heart inviolate. And the creature is saved which He
made in His image.

33. Christ, Son of God, who was born of the Holy Virgin Mary, hath come as grace
into the world; because by means of grace He hath made us alive, He that
fashioned all things. Now that Christ is born into the world, doth all creation
dance. He giveth in exchange His temptation, |172 the coin of long-suffering,
that He may claim (for us) the mansions of the kingdom. The Holy Virgin was
filled with joy because He took from her His flesh, to the end that He might
raise again him that was fallen under sin.

34. Evil thoughts are turned from us, when we sing psalms to Thee, O heavenly
and holy Father; beholding the great light which Thou hast given to us, Jesus
Christ, who was born of the Holy Virgin and wrought by means of His Godhead
wonders; but for our sake accepted sufferings by means of His flesh. We then 8
also still being in the flesh will hasten in body and soul to make the Deity
propitious to us with angelic hymns, touching with our hands in figurative wise
the divine [element] of the dogma (?), and will sow in our minds (or in our
mysteries) the truth of faith. For the mystery (or thought) is inaccessible,
invisible, unchangeable, not to be circumscribed, worshipped in its fulness and
marvelled at in [our] mind. For even the Holy Virgin herself had marvelled at
the manner of the mystery (or thought). How could the splendour of light become
the offspring of a woman? She embraced in herself the treasure of life, and
pondered in her mind the salutation of the archangel; until in the completion
(of time) she bore the fruit of salvation, that it might save (or make alive)
man.

35. Therefore, O ye fair-fruited and comely branches of Christ's teaching, ye
shall in this place bring to us the |173 fruits of blessing (= εὐλογίας). Here,
where is all purity and fragrance, let us offer to God with holy conscience the
incense of prayer. Here, where virginity and temperance dance together, bearing
for fruit the life-giving cluster of grapes. Here, where they . . . unto us the
. . . of victorious power and the treasure of love.9 Here, where the mystery of
the Holy Trinity was revealed by the archangel to the Holy Virgin according to
the gospel: "The Holy Spirit shall come upon thee and the power of the most High
shall overshadow thee. For Holy is that which is born of thee, Son of God." To
whom be glory and honour for ever and ever.

F. C. CONYBEARE.

1. 1 The use of the epithet Θεότοκος is not inconsistent with this description;
for Dionysius of Alexandria, Gregory's contemporary, already used it.

2. 1 πολιτεύεται.

3. 1 These words are added in brackets in the Armenian text.

4. 1 The Armenian is obscure, but this seems to be the sense.

5. 1 Or suffered Him who carries. The verb krem, like θἐρω is here used first in
one sense, and then in the other.

6. 1 Lit., of our thorns.

7. 2 i.e. νοητοῦ φωτός.

8. 1 The entire sentence from "we then" to "truth of faith" is obscure and
ungrammatical in the Armenian, and I have only conjectured its meaning. In Latin
it would = "Ergo et nos anima et corpore, etiam nunc esse in corpore, divinum
illud angelicis hymnis propitium esse nobis solliciti erimus facere, manu
tangentes per figuram divinum illud doctrinae veritatem fidei in cogitationibus
nostris seremus." Of the words rendered doctrina; and propitium I am not sure.
The word baremnatzo, which I render propitium, is unknown, but should mean
"well-remaining." I take it to be a misrendering of εὐμενής. The word rendered
by cogitatio may also mean "mystery" or "sacrament"; and possibly the entire
passage refers to the continued existence in the sacrament of the body of
Christ.

9. 1 The Armenian MS. is mutilated here. This text was transcribed by Roger
Pearse, 2006. All material on this page is in the public domain - copy freely.

Greek text is rendered using unicode.

Early Church Fathers - Additional Texts


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 5: THE ORATION AND PANEGYRIC ADDRESSED TO ORIGEN
========================================================================

The Oration and Panegyric Addressed to Origen.1

Argument I-For Eight Years Gregory Has Given Up the Practice of Oratory, Being
Busied with the Study Chiefly of Roman Law and the Latin Language.

Argument II.-He Essays to Speak of the Well-Nigh Divine Endowments of Origen in
His Presence, into Whose Hands He Avows Himself to Have Been Led in a Way Beyond
All His Expectation.

Argument III.-He is Stimulated to Speak of Him by the Longing of a Grateful
Mind. To the Utmost of His Ability He Thinks He Ought to Thank Him. From God are
the Beginnings of All Blessings; And to Him Adequate Thanks Cannot Be Returned.

Argument IV.-The Son Alone Knows How to Praise the Father Worthily. In Christ
and by Christ Our Thanksgiving Sought to Be Rendered to the Father. Gregory Also
Gives Thanks to His Guardian Angel, Because He Was Conducted by Him to Origen.

Argument V.-Here Gregory Interweaves the Narrative of His Former Life. His Birth
of Heathen Parents is Stated. In the Fourteenth Year of His Age He Loses His
Father. He is Dedicated to the Study of Eloquence and Law. By a Wonderful
Leading of Providence, He is Brought to Origen.

Argument VI.-The Arts by Which Origen Studies to Keep Gregory and His Brother
Athenodorus with Him, Although It Was Almost Against Their Will; And the Love by
Which Both are Taken Captive. Of Philosophy, the Foundation of Piety, with the
View of Giving Himself Therefore Wholly to that Study, Gregory is Willing to
Give Up Fatherland, Parents, the Pursuit of Law, and Every Other Discipline. Of
the Soul as the Free Principle. The Nobler Part Does Not Desire to Be United
with the Inferior, But the Inferior with the Nobler.

Argument VII.-The Wonderful Skill with Which Origen Prepares Gregory and
Athenodorus for Philosophy. The Intellect of Each is Exercised First in Logic,
and the Mere Attention to Words is Contemned.

Argument VIII.-Then in Due Succession He Instructs Them in Physics, Geometry,
and Astronomy.

Argument IX.-But He Imbues Their Minds, Above All, with Ethical Science; And He
Does Not Confine Himself to Discoursing on the Virtues in Word, But He Rather
Confirms His Teaching by His Acts.

Argument X.-Hence the Mere Word-Sages are Confuted, Who Say and Yet Act Not.

Argument XI.-Origen is the First and the Only One that Exhorts Gregory to Add to
His Acquirements the Study of Philosophy, and Offers Him in a Certain Manner an
Example in Himself. Of Justice, Prudence, Temperance, and Fortitude. The Maxim,
Know Thyself.

Argument XII.-Gregory Disallows Any Attainment of the Virtues on His Part. Piety
is Both the Beginning and the End, and Thus It is the Parent of All the Virtues.

Argument XIII.-The Method Which Origen Used in His Theological and Metaphysical
Instructions. He Commends the Study of All Writers, the Atheistic Alone
Excepted. The Marvellous Power of Persuasion in Speech. The Facility of the Mind
in Giving Its Assent.

Argument XIV.-Whence the Contentions of Philosophers Have Sprung. Against Those
Who Catch at Everything that Meets Them, and Give It Credence, and Cling to It.
Origen Was in the Habit of Carefully Reading and Explaining the Books of the
Heathen to His Disciples.

Argument XV.-File Case of Divine Matters. Only God and His Prophets are to Be
Heard in These. The Prophets and Their Auditors are Acted on by the Same
Afflatus. Origen's Excellence in the Interpretation of Scripture.

Argument XVI.-Gregory Laments His Departure Under a Threefold Comparison;
Likening It to Adam's Departure Out of Paradise. To the Prodigal Son's
Abandonment of His Father's House, and to the Deportation of the Jews into
Babylon.

Argument XVII.-Gregory Consoles Himself.

Argument XVIII.-Peroration, and Apology for the Oration.

Argument XIX.-Apostrophe to Origen, and Therewith the Leave-Taking, and the
Urgent Utterance of Prayer. The Oration and Panegyric Addressed to Origen.1

--------

Argument I-For Eight Years Gregory Has Given Up the Practice of Oratory, Being
Busied with the Study Chiefly of Roman Law and the Latin Language. An excellent2
thing has silence proved itself in many another person on many an occasion, and
at present it befits myself, too, most especially, who with or without purpose
may keep the door of my lips, and feel constrained to be silent. For I am
unpractised and unskilled3 in those beautiful and elegant addresses which are
spoken or composed in a regular and unbroken4 train, in select and well-chosen
phrases and words; and it may be that I am less apt by nature to cultivate
successfully this graceful and truly Grecian art. Besides, it is now eight years
since I chanced myself to utter or compose any speech, whether long or short;
neither in that period have I heard any other compose or utter anything in
private, or deliver in public any laudatory or controversial orations, with the
exception of those admirable men who have embraced the noble study of
philosophy, and who care less for beauty of language and elegance of expression.
For, attaching only a secondary importance to the words, they aim, with all
exactness, at investigating and making known the things themselves, precisely as
they are severally constituted. Not indeed, in my opinion, that they: do not
desire, but rather that they do greatly desire, to clothe the noble and accurate
results of their thinking in noble and comely5 language. Yet it may be that they
are not able so lightly to put forth this sacred and godlike power (faculty) in
the exercise of its own proper conceptions, and at the same time to practise a
mode of discourse eloquent in its terms, and thus to comprehend in one and the
same mind-and that, too, this little mind of man-two accomplishments, which are
the gifts of two distinct persons, and which are, in truth, most contrary to
each other. For silence is indeed the friend and helpmeet of thought and
invention. But if one aims at readiness of speech and beauty of discourse, he
will get at them by no other discipline than the study of words, and their
constant practice. Moreover, another branch of learning occupies my mind
completely, and the mouth binds the tongue if I should desire to make any
speech, however brief, with the voice of the Greeks; I refer to those admirable
laws of our sages6 by which the affairs of all the subjects of the Roman Empire
are now directed, and which are neither composed7 nor learnt without difficulty.
And these are wise and exact8 in themselves, and manifold and admirable, and, in
a word, most thoroughly Grecian; and they are expressed and committed to us in
the Roman tongue, which is a wonderful and magnificent sort of language, and one
very aptly conformable to royal authority,9 but still difficult to me. Nor could
it be otherwise with me, even though I might say that it was my desire that it
should be.10 And as our words are nothing else than a kind of imagery of the
dispositions of our mind, we should allow those who have the gift of speech,
like some good artists alike skilled to the utmost in their art and liberally
furnished in the matter of colours, to possess the liberty of painting their
word-pictures, not simply of a uniform complexion, but also of various
descriptions and of richest beauty in the abundant mixture of flowers, without
let or hindrance.

Argument II.-He Essays to Speak of the Well-Nigh Divine Endowments of Origen in
His Presence, into Whose Hands He Avows Himself to Have Been Led in a Way Beyond
All His Expectation. But we, like any of the poor, unfurnished with these varied
specifics11 -whether as never having been possessed of them, or, it may be, as
having lost them-are under the necessity of using, as it were, only charcoal and
tiles, that is to say, those rude and common words and phrases; and by means of
these, to the best of our ability, we represent the native dispositions of our
mind, expressing them in such language as is at our service, and endeavouring to
exhibit the impressions of the figures12 of our mind, if not clearly or
ornately, yet at least with the faithfulness of a charcoal picture, welcoming
gladly any graceful and eloquent expression which may present itself from any
quarter, although we make little of such.13 But, furthermore,14 there is a third
circumstance which hinders and dissuades me from this attempt, and which holds
me back much more even than the others, and recommends me to keep silence by all
means,-I allude to the subject itself, which made me indeed ambitious to speak
of it, but which now makes me draw balk and delay. For it is my purpose to speak
of one who has indeed the semblance and repute of being a man, but who seems, to
those who are able to contemplate the greatness of his intellectual calibre,15
to be endowed with powers nobler and well-nigh divine.16 And it is not his birth
or bodily training that I am about to praise, and that makes me now delay and
procrastinate with an excess of caution. Nor, again, is it his strength or
beauty; for these form the eulogies of youths, of which it matters little
whether the utterance be worthy or not.17 For, to make an oration on matters of
a temporary and fugitive nature, which perish in many various ways and quickly,
and to discourse of these with all the grandeur and dignity of great affairs,
and with such timorous delays, would seem a vain and futile procedure.18 And
certainly, if it had been proposed to me to speak of any of those things which
are useless and unsubstantial, and such as I should never voluntarily have
thought of speaking of,-if, I say, it had been proposed to me to speak of
anything of that character, my speech would have had none of this caution or
fear, lest in any statement I might seem to come beneath the merit of the
subject. But now, my subject dealing with that which is most godlike in the man,
and that in him which has most affinity with God, that which is indeed confined
within the limits of this visible and mortal form, but which strains
nevertheless most ardently after the likeness of God; and my object being to
make mention of this, and to put my hand to weightier matters, and therein also
to express my thanksgivings to the Godhead, in that it has been granted to me to
meet with such a man beyond the expectation of men,-the expectation, verily, not
only of others, but also of my own heart, for I neither set such a privilege
before me at any time, nor hoped for it; it being, I say, my object,
insignificant and altogether without understanding as I am, to put my hand to
such subjects, it is not without reason19 that I shrink from the task, and
hesitate, and desire to keep silence. And, in truth, to keep silence seems to
the to be also the safe course, lest, with the show of an expression of
thanksgiving, I may chance, in my rashness, to discourse of noble and sacred
subjects in i terms ignoble and paltry and utterly trite, and thus not only miss
attaining the truth, but even, so far as it depends on me, do it some injury
with those who may believe that it stands in such a category, when a discourse
which is weak is composed thereon, and is rather calculated to excite ridicule
than to prove itself commensurate in its vigour with the dignity of its themes.
But all that pertains to thee is beyond the touch of injury and ridicule, O dear
soul; or, much rather let me say, that the divine herein remains ever as it is,
unmoved and harmed in nothing · by our paltry and unworthy words. Yet I know not
how we shall escape the imputation of boldness and rashness in thus attempting
in our folly, and with little either of intelligence or of preparation, to
handle matters which are weighty, and probably beyond our capacity. And if,
indeed, elsewhere and with others, we had aspired to make such youthful
endeavours in matters like these, we would surely have been bold and daring;
nevertheless in such a case our rashness might not have been ascribed to
shamelessness, in so far as we should not have been making the bold effort with
thee. But now we shall be filling out the whole measure of senselessness, or
rather indeed we have already filled it out, in venturing with unwashed feet (as
the saying goes) to introduce ourselves to ears into which the Divine Word
Himself-not indeed with covered feet, as is the case with the general mass of
men, and, as it were, under the thick coverings of enigmatical and obscure20
sayings, but with unsandalled feet (if one may so speak)-has made His way
clearly and perspicuously, and in which He now sojourns; while we, who have but
refuse and mud to offer in these human words of ours, have been bold enough to
pour them into ears which are practised in hearing only words that are divine
and pure. It might indeed suffice us, therefore, to have transgressed thus far;
and now, at least, it might be but right to restrain ourselves, and to advance
no further, with our discourse. And verily I would stop here most gladly.
Nevertheless, as I have once made the rash venture, it may be allowed me first
of all to explain the reason under the force of which I have been led into this
arduous enterprise, if indeed any pardon can be extended to me for my
forwardness in this matter.

Argument III.-He is Stimulated to Speak of Him by the Longing of a Grateful
Mind. To the Utmost of His Ability He Thinks He Ought to Thank Him. From God are
the Beginnings of All Blessings; And to Him Adequate Thanks Cannot Be Returned.

Ingratitude appears to me to be a dire evil; a dire evil indeed, yea, the direst
of evils. For when one has received some benefit, his failing to attempt to make
any return by at least the oral expression of thanks, where aught else is beyond
his power, marks him out either as an utterly irrational person, or as one
devoid of the sense of obligations conferred, or as a man without any memory.
And, again, though21 one is possessed naturally and at once by the sense and the
knowledge of benefits received, yet, unless he also carries the memory of these
obligations to future days, and offers some evidence of gratitude to the author
of the boons, such a person is a dull, and ungrateful, and impious fellow; and
he commits an offence which can be excused neither in the case of the great nor
in that of the small:-if we suppose the case of a great, and high-minded man not
bearing constantly on his lips his great benefits with all gratitude and honour,
or that of a small and contemptible man not praising and lauding with all his
might one who has been his benefactor, not simply in great services, but also in
smaller. Upon the great, therefore, and those who excel in powers of mind, it is
incumbent, as out of their greater abundance and larger wealth, to render
greater and worthier praise, according to their capacity, to their benefactors.
But the humble also, and those in narrow circumstances, it beseems neither to
neglect those who do them service, nor to take their services carelessly, nor to
flag in heart as if they could offer nothing worthy or perfect; but as poor
indeed, and yet as of good feeling, and as measuring not the capacity of him
whom they honour, but only their own, they ought to pay him honour according to
the present measure of their power,-a tribute which will probably be grateful
and pleasant to him who is honoured, and in no less consideration with him than
it would have been had it been some great and splendid offering, if it is only
presented with decided earnestness, and with a sincere mind. Thus is it laid
down in the sacred writings,22 that a certain poor and lowly woman, who was with
the rich and powerful that were contributing largely and richly out of their
wealth, alone and by herself cast in a small, yea, the very smallest offering,
which was, however, all the while her whole substance, and received the
testimony of having presented the largest oblation. For, as I judge, the sacred
word has not set up the large outward quantity of the substance given, but
rather the mind and disposition of the giver, as the standard by which the worth
and the magnificence of the offering are to be measured. Wherefore it is not
meet even for us by any means to shrink from this duty, through the fear that
our thanksgivings be not adequate to our obligations; but, on the contrary, we
ought to venture and attempt everything, so as to offer thanksgivings, if not
adequate, at least such as we have it in our power to exhibit, as in due return.
And would that our discourse, even though it comes short of the perfect measure,
might at least reach the mark in some degree, and be saved from all appearance
of ingratitude! For a persistent silence, maintained under the plausible cover
of an inability to say anything worthy of the subject, is a vain and evil thing;
but it is the mark of a good disposition always to make the attempt at a
suitable return, even although the power of the person who offers the grateful
acknowledgment be inferior to the desert of the subject. For my part, even
although I am unable to speak as the matter merits, I shall not keep silence;
but when I have done all that I possibly can, then I may congratulate myself. Be
this, then, the method of my eucharistic discourse. To God, indeed, the God of
the universe, I shall not think of speaking in such terms: yet is it from Him
that all the beginnings of our blessings come; and with Him consequently is it
that the beginning of our thanksgivings, or praises, or laudations, ought to be
made. But, in truth, not even though i were to devote myself wholly to that
duty, and that, too, not as i now am-to wit, profane and impure, and mixed up
with and stained by every unhallowed23 and polluting evil-but sincere and as
pure as pure may be, and most genuine, and most unsophisticated, and
uncontaminated by anything vile;-not even, I say, though I were thus to devote
myself wholly, and with all the purity of the newly born, to this task, should I
produce of myself any suitable gift in the way of honour and acknowledgment to
the Ruler and Originator of all things, whom neither men separately and
individually, nor yet all men in concert, acting with one spirit and one
concordant impulse, as though all that is pure were made to meet in one, and all
that is diverse from that were turned also to that service, could ever celebrate
in a manner worthy of Him. For, in whatsoever measure any man is able to form
right and adequate conceptions of His works, and (if such a thing were possible)
to speak worthily regarding Him, then, so far as that very capacity is
concerned,-a capacity with which he has not been gifted by any other one, but
which he has received from Him alone, he cannot possibly find any greater matter
of thanksgiving than what is implied in its possession.

Argument IV.-The Son Alone Knows How to Praise the Father Worthily. In Christ
and by Christ Our Thanksgiving Sought to Be Rendered to the Father. Gregory Also
Gives Thanks to His Guardian Angel, Because He Was Conducted by Him to Origen.
But let us commit the praises and hymns in honour of the King and Superintendent
of all things, the perennial Fount of all blessings, to the hand of Him who, in
this matter as in all others, is the Healer of our infirmity, and who [ alone is
able to supply that which is lacking; to the Champion and Saviour of our souls,
His first-born Word, the Maker and Ruler of all things, with whom also alone it
is possible, both for Himself and for all, whether privately and individually,
or publicly and collectively, to send up to the Father uninterrupted and
ceaseless thanksgivings. For as He is Himself the Truth, and the Wisdom, and the
Power of the Father of the universe, and He is besides in Him, and is truly and
entirely made one with Him, it cannot be that, either through forgetfulness or
unwisdom, or any manner of infirmity, such as marks one dissociated from Him, He
shall either fail in the power to praise Him, or, while having the power, shall
willingly neglect (a supposition which it is not lawful, surely, to indulge) to
praise the Father. For He alone is able most perfectly to fulfil the whole meed
of honour which is proper to Him, inasmuch as the Father of all things has made
Him one with Himself, and through Him all but completes the circle of His own
being objectively,24 and honours Him with a power in all respects equal to His
own, even as also He is honoured; which position He first and alone of all
creatures that exist has had assigned Him, this Only-begotten of the Father, who
is in Him, and who is God the Word; while all others of us are able to express
our thanksgiving and our piety only if, in return for all the blessings which
proceed to us from the Father, we bring our offerings in simple dependence on
Him alone, and thus present the meet oblation of thanksgiving to Him who is the
Author of all things, acknowledging also that the only way of piety is in this
manner to offer our memorials through Him. Wherefore, in acknowledgment of that
ceaseless providence which watches over all of us, alike in the greatest and in
the smallest concerns, and which has been sustained even thus far, let this
Word25 be accepted as the worthy and perpetual expression for all thanksgivings
and praises,-I mean the altogether perfect and living and verily animate Word of
the First Mind Himself. But let this word of ours be taken primarily as an
eucharistic address in honour of this sacred personage, who stands alone among
all men;26 and if I may seek to discourse27 of aught beyond this, and, in
particular, of any of those beings who are not seen, but yet are more godlike,
and who have a special care for men, it shall be addressed to that being who, by
some momentous decision, had me allotted to him froth my boyhood to rule, and
rear, and train,-I mean that holy angel of God who fed me from my youth,28 as
says the saint dear to God, meaning thereby his own peculiar one. Though he,
indeed, as being himself illustrious, did in these terms designate some angel
exalted enough to befit his own dignity (and whether it was some other one, or
whether it was perchance the Angel of the Mighty Counsel Himself, the Common
Saviour of all, that he received as his own peculiar guardian through his
perfection, I do not clearly know),-he, I say, did recognise and praise some
superior angel as his own, whosoever that was. But we, in addition to the homage
we offer to the Common Ruler of all men, acknowledge and praise that being,
whosoever he is, who has been the wonderful guide of our childhood, who in all
other matters has been in time past my beneficent tutor and guardian. For this
office of tutor and guardian is one which evidently can suit29 neither me nor
any of my friends and kindred; for we are all blind, and see nothing of what is
before us, so as to be able to judge of what is right and fitting; but it can
suit only him who sees beforehand all that is for the good of our soul: that
angel, I say, who still at this present time sustains, and instructs, and
conducts me; and who, in addition to all these other benefits, has brought me
into connection with this man, which, in truth, is the most important of all the
services done me. And this, too, he has effected for me, although between myself
and that man of whom I discourse there was no kinship of race or blood, nor any
other tie, nor any relationship in neighbourhood or country whatsoever; things
which are made the ground of friendship and union among the majority of men. But
to speak in brief, in the exercise of a truly divine and wise forethought he
brought us together, who were unknown to each other, and strangers, and
foreigners, separated as thoroughly from each other as intervening nations, and
mountains, and rivers can divide man from man, and thus he made good this
meeting which has been full of profit to me, having, as I judge, provided
beforehand this blessing for me from above from my very birth and earliest
upbringing. And in what manner this has been realized it would take long to
recount fully, not merely if I were to enter minutely into the whole subject,
and were to attempt to omit nothing, but even if, passing many things by, I
should purpose simply to mention in a summary way a few of the most important
points.

Argument V.-Here Gregory Interweaves the Narrative of His Former Life. His Birth
of Heathen Parents is Stated. In the Fourteenth Year of His Age He Loses His
Father. He is Dedicated to the Study of Eloquence and Law. By a Wonderful
Leading of Providence, He is Brought to Origen. For my earliest upbringing from
the time of my birth onwards was under the hand of my parents; and the manner of
life in my father's house was one of error,30 and of a kind from which no one, I
imagine, expected that we should be delivered; nor had I myself the hope, boy as
I was, and without understanding, and trader a superstitious father.31 Then
followed the loss of my father, and my orphanhood, which32 perchance was also
the beginning of the knowledge of the truth to me. For then it was that I was
brought over first to the word of salvation and truth, in what manner I cannot
tell, by constraint rather than by voluntary choice. For what power of decision
had I then, who was but fourteen years of age? Yet from this very time this
sacred Word began somehow to visit me, just at the period when the reason common
to all men attained its full function in me; yea, then for the first time did it
visit me. And though I thought but little of this in that olden time, yet now at
least, as I ponder it, I consider that no small token of the holy and marvellous
providence exercised over me is discernible in this concurrence, which was I so
distinctly marked in the matter of my years, and which provided that all those
deeds of error which preceded that age might be ascribed to youth and want of
understanding, and that the Holy Word might not be imparted vainly to a soul yet
ungifted with the full power of reason; and which secured at the same time that
when the soul now became endowed with that power, though not gifted with the
divine and pure reason,33 it might not be devoid at least of that fear which is
accordant with this reason, but that the human and the divine reason34 might
begin to act in me at once and together,-the one giving help with a power to me
at least inexplicable,35 though proper to itself, and the other receiving help.
And when I reflect on this, I am filled at once with gladness and with terror,
while I rejoice indeed in the leading of providence, and yet am also awed by the
fear lest, after being privileged with such blessings, I should still in any way
fail of the end. But indeed I know not how my discourse has dwelt so long on
this matter, desirous as I am to give an account of the wonderful arrangement
(of God's providence) in the course that brought the to this man, and anxious as
nevertheless I formerly was to pass with few words to the matters which follow
in their order, not certainly imagining that I could render to him who thus
dealt with me that tribute of praise, or gratitude, or piety which is due to him
(for, were we to designate our discourse in such terms, while yet we said
nothing worthy of the theme, we might seem chargeable with arrogance), but
simply with the view of offering what may be called a plain narrative or
confession, or whatever other humble title may be given it. It seemed good to
the only one of my parents who survived to care for me-my mother, namely-that,
being already under instruction in those other branches in which boys not
ignobly born and nurtured are usually trained, I should attend also a teacher of
public speaking, in the hope that I too should become a public speaker. And
accordingly I did attend such a teacher; and those who could judge in that
department then declared that I should in a short period be a public speaker. I
for my own part know not how to pronounce on that, neither should I desire to do
so; for there was no apparent ground for that gift then, nor was there as yet
any foundation for those forces36 which were capable of bringing me to it. But
that divine conductor and true curator, ever so watchful, when my friends were
not thinking of such a step, and when I was not myself desirous of it, came and
suggested (an extension of my studies) to one of my teachers under whose charge
I had been put, with a view to instruction in the Roman tongue, not in the
expectation that I was to reach the completest mastery of that tongue, but only
that I might not be absolutely ignorant of it; and this person happened also to
be not altogether unversed in laws. Putting the idea, therefore, into this
teacher's mind,37 he set me to learn in a thorough way the laws of the Romans by
his help. And that man took up this charge zealously with me; and I, on my side,
gave myself to it-more, however, to gratify the man, than as being myself an
admirer of the study. And when he got me as his pupil, he began to teach me with
all enthusiasm. And he said one thing, which has proved to me the truest of all
his sayings, to wit, that my education in the laws would be my greatest
viaticum38 -for thus he phrased it-whether I aspired to be one of the public
speakers who contend in the courts of justice, or preferred to belong to a
different order. Thus did he express himself, intending his word to bear simply
on things human; but to me it seems that he was moved to that utterance by a
diviner impulse than he himself supposed. For when, willingly or unwillingly, I
was becoming well instructed in these laws, at once bonds, as it were, were cast
upon my movements, and cause and occasion for my journeying to these parts arose
from the city Berytus, which is a city not far distant39 from this territory,
somewhat Latinized,40 and credited with being a school for these legal studies.
And this revered man coming from Egypt, from the city of Alexandria, where
previously he happened to have his home, was moved by other circumstances to
change his residence to this place, as if with the express object of meeting us.
And for my part, I cannot explain the reasons of these incidents, and I shall
willingly pass them by. This however is certain, that as yet no necessary
occasion for my coming to this place and meeting with this man was afforded by
my purpose to learn our laws, since I had it in my power also to repair to the
city of Rome itself.41 How, then, was this effected? The then governor of
Palestine suddenly took possession of a friend of mine, namely my sister's
husband, and separated him from his wife, and carried him off here against his
will, in order to secure his help, and have him associated with him in the
labours of the government of the country; for he was a person skilled in law,
and perhaps is still so employed. After he had gone with him, however, he had
the good fortune in no long time to have his wife sent for, and to receive her
again, from whom, against his will, and to his grievance, he had been separated.
And thus he chanced also to draw us along with her to that same place. For when
we were minded to travel, I know not where, but certainly to any other place
rather than this, a soldier suddenly came upon the scene, bearing a letter of
instructions for us to escort and protect our sister in her restoration to her
husband, and to offer ourselves also as companion to her on the journey; in
which we had the opportunity of doing a favour to our relative, and most of all
to our sister (so that she might not have to address herself to the journey
either in any unbecoming manner, or with any great fear or hesitation), while at
the same tithe our other friends and connections thought well of it, and made it
out to promise no slight advantage, as we could thus visit the city of Berytus,
and carry out there with all diligence42 our studies in the laws. Thus all
things moved me thither,-my sense of duty43 to my sister, my own studies, and
over and above these, the soldier (for it is right also to mention this), who
had with him a larger supply of public vehicles than the case demanded, and more
cheques44 than could be required for our sister alone. These were the apparent
reasons for our journey; but the secret and yet truer reasons were these,-our
opportunity of fellowship with this man our instruction through that man's
means45 the truth46 concerning the Word, and the profit of our soul for its
salvation. These were the real causes that brought us here, blind and ignorant,
as we were, as to the way of securing our salvation. Wherefore it was not that
soldier, but a certain divine companion and beneficent conductor and guardian,
ever leading us in safety through the whole of this present life, as through a
long journey, that carried us past other places, and Berytus in especial, which
city at that time we seemed most bent on reaching, and brought us hither and
settled us here, disposing and directing all things, until by any means he might
bind us in a connection with this man who was to be the author of the greater
part of our blessings. And he who came in such wise, that divine angel, gave
over this charge47 to him, and did, if I may so speak, perchance take his rest
here, not indeed under the pressure of labour or exhaustion of any kind (for the
generation of those divine ministers knows no weariness), but as having
committed us to the hand of a man who would fully discharge the whole work of
care and guardianship within his power.

Argument VI.-The Arts by Which Origen Studies to Keep Gregory and His Brother
Athenodorus with Him, Although It Was Almost Against Their Will; And the Love by
Which Both are Taken Captive. Of Philosophy, the Foundation of Piety, with the
View of Giving Himself Therefore Wholly to that Study, Gregory is Willing to
Give Up Fatherland, Parents, the Pursuit of Law, and Every Other Discipline. Of
the Soul as the Free Principle. The Nobler Part Does Not Desire to Be United
with the Inferior, But the Inferior with the Nobler. And from the very first day
of his receiving us (which day was, in truth, the first day to me, and the most
precious of all days, if I may so speak, since then for the first time the true
Sun began to rise upon me), while we, like some wild creatures of the fields, or
like fish, or some sort of birds that had fallen into the toils or nets, and
were endeavouring to slip out again and escape, were bent on leaving him, and
making off for Berytus48 or our native country, he studied by all means to
associate us closely with him, contriving all kinds of arguments, and putting
every rope in motion (as the proverb goes), and bringing all his powers to bear
on that object. With that intent he lauded the lovers of philosophy with large
laudations and many noble utterances, declaring that those only live a life
truly worthy of reasonable creatures who aim all living an upright life and who
seek to know first of all themselves, what manner of persons they are, and then
the things that are truly good, which man ought to strive after, and then the
things that are really evil, from which man ought to flee. And then he
reprehended ignorance and all the ignorant: and there are many such, who, like
brute cattle,49 are blind in mind, and have no understanding even of what they
are, and are as far astray as though they were wholly void of reason, and
neither know themselves what is good and what is evil, nor care at all to learn
it from others, but toil feverishly in quest of wealth, and glory, and such
honours as belong to the crowd, and bodily comforts, and go distraught about
things like these, as if they were the real good. And as though such objects
were worth much, yea, worth all else, they prize the things themselves, and the
arts by which they can acquire them, and the different lines of life which give
scope for their attainment,-the military profession, to wit, and the juridical,
and the study of the laws. And with earnest and sagacious words he told us that
these are the objects that enervate us, when we despise that reason which ought
to be the true master within us.50 I cannot recount at present all the addresses
of this kind which he delivered to us, with the view of persuading us to take up
the pursuit of philosophy. Nor was it only for a single day that he thus dealt
with us, but for many days and, in fact, as often as we were in the habit of
going to him at the outset; and we were pierced by his argumentation as with an
arrow from the very first occasion of our hearing him51 (for he was possessed of
a rare combination of a certain sweet grace and persuasiveness, along with a
strange power of constraint), though we still wavered and debated the matter
undecidedly with ourselves, holding so far by the pursuit of philosophy, without
however being brought thoroughly over to it, while somehow or other we found
ourselves quite unable to withdraw from it conclusively, and thus were always
drawn towards him by the power of his reasonings, as by the force of some
superior necessity. For he asserted further that there could be no genuine piety
towards the Lord of all in the man who despised this gift of philosophy,-a gift
which man alone of all the creatures of the earth has been deemed honourable and
worthy enough to possess, and one which every man whatsoever, be he wise or be
he ignorant, reasonably embraces, who has not utterly lost the power of thought
by some mad distraction of mind. He asserted, then, as I have said, that it was
not possible (to speak correctly) for any one to be truly pious who did not
philosophize. And thus he continued to do with us, until, by pouring in upon us
many such argumentations, one after the other, he at last carried us fairly off
somehow or other by a kind of divine power, like people with his reasonings, and
established us (in the practice of philosophy), and set us down without the
power of movement, as it were, beside himself by his arts. Moreover, the
stimulus of friendship was also brought to bear upon us,-a stimulus, indeed, not
easily withstood, but keen and most effective,-the argument of a kind and
affectionate disposition, which showed itself benignantly in his words when he
spoke to us and associated with us. For he did not aim merely at getting round
us by any kind of reasoning; but his desire was, with a benignant, and
affectionate, and most benevolent mind, to save us, and make us partakers in the
blessings that flow from philosophy, and most especially also in those other
gifts which the Deity has bestowed on him above most men, or, as we may perhaps
say, above all men of our own time. I mean the power that teaches us piety, the
word of salvation, that comes to many, and subdues to itself all whom it visits:
for there is nothing that shall resist it, inasmuch as it is and shall be itself
the king of all; although as yet it is hidden, and is not recognised, whether
with ease or with difficulty, by the common crowd, in such wise that, when
interrogated respecting it, they should be able to speak intelligently about it.
And thus, like some spark lighting upon our inmost soul, love was kindled and
burst into flame within us,-a love at once to the Holy Word, the most lovely
object of all, who attracts all irresistibly toward Himself by His unutterable
beauty, and to this man, His friend and advocate. And being most mightily
smitten by this love, I was persuaded to give up all those objects or pursuits
which seem to us befitting, and among others even my boasted jurisprudence,-yea,
my very fatherland and friends, both those who were present with me then, and
those from whom I had parted. And in my estimation there arose but one object
dear and worth desire,-to wit, philosophy, and that master of philosophy, this
inspired man. "And the soul of Jonathan was knit with David."52 This word,
indeed, I did not read till afterwards in the sacred Scriptures; but I felt it
before that time, not less clearly than it is written: for, in truth, it reached
me then by the clearest of all revelations. For it was not simply Jonathan that
was knit with David; but those things were knit together which are the ruling
powers in man-their souls,-those objects which, even though all the things which
are apparent and ostensible in man are severed, cannot by any skill be forced to
a severance when they themselves are unwilling. For the soul is free, and cannot
be coerced by any means, not even though one should confine it and keep guard
over it in some secret prison-house. For wherever the intelligence is, there it
is also of its own nature and by the first reason. And if it seems to you to be
in a kind of prison-house, it is represented as there to you by a sort of second
reason. But for all that, it is by no means precluded from subsisting anywhere
according to its own determination; nay, rather it is both able to be, and is
reasonably believed to be, there alone and altogether, wheresoever and in
connection with what things soever those actions which are proper only to it are
in operation. Wherefore, what I experienced has been most clearly declared in
this very short statement, that "the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of
David; "objects which, as I said, cannot by any means be forced to a separation
against their will, and which of their own inclination certainly will not
readily choose it. Nor is it, in my opinion, in the inferior subject, who is
changeful and very prone to vary in purpose, and in whom singly there has been
no capacity of union at first, that the power of loosing the sacred bonds of
this affection rests, but rather in the nobler one, who is constant and not
readily shaken, and through whom it has been possible to the these bonds and to
fasten this sacred knot. Therefore it is not the soul of David that was knit by
the divine word with the soul of Jonathan; but, on the contrary, the soul of the
latter, who was the inferior, is said to be thus affected and knit with the soul
of David. For the nobler object would not choose to be knit with one inferior,
inasmuch as it is sufficient for itself; but the inferior object, as standing in
need of the help which the nobler can give, ought properly to be knit with the
nobler, and fitted dependently to it: so that this latter, retaining still its
sufficiency in itself, might sustain no loss by its connection with the
inferior; and that that which is of itself without order53 being now united and
fitted harmoniously with the nobler, might, without any detriment done, be
perfectly subdued to the nobler by the constraints of such bonds. Wherefore, to
apply the bonds is the part of the superior, and not of the inferior; but to be
knit to the other is the part of the inferior, and this too in such a manner
that it shall possess no power of loosing itself from these bonds. And by a
similar constraint, then, did this David of ours once gird us to himself; and he
holds us now, and has held us ever since that time, so that, even though we
desired it, we could not loose ourselves from his bonds. And hence it follows
that, even though we were to depart, he would not release this soul of mine,
which, as the Holy Scripture puts it, he holds knit so closely with himself.

Argument VII.-The Wonderful Skill with Which Origen Prepares Gregory and
Athenodorus for Philosophy. The Intellect of Each is Exercised First in Logic,
and the Mere Attention to Words is Contemned. But after he had thus carried us
captive at the very outset, and had shut us in, as it were, on all sides, and
when what was best54 had been accomplished by him, and when it seemed good to us
to remain with him for a time, then he took us in hand, as a skilled husbandman
may take in hand some field unwrought, and altogether unfertile, and sour, and
burnt up, and hard as a rock, and rough, or, it may be, one not utterly barren
or unproductive, but rather, perchance, by nature very productive, though then
waste and neglected, and stiff and untractable with thorns and wild shrubs; or
as a gardener may take in hand some plant which is wild indeed, and which yields
no cultivated fruits, though it may not be absolutely worthless, and on finding
it thus, may, by his skill in gardening, bring some cultivated shoot and graft
it in, by making a fissure in the middle, and then bringing the two together,
and binding the one to the other, until the sap in each shall flow in one
stream,55 and they shall both grow with the same nurture: for one may often see
a tree of a mixed and worthless56 species thus rendered productive in spite of
its past barrenness, and made to rear the fruits of the good olive on wild
roots; or one may see a wild plant saved from being altogether profitless by the
skill of a careful gardener; or, once more, one may see a plant which otherwise
is one both of culture and of fruitfulness, but which, through the want of
skilled attendance, has been left unpruned and unwatered and waste, and which is
thus choked by the mass of superfluous shoots suffered to grow out of it at
random,57 yet brought to discharge its proper function in germination,58 and
made to bear the fruit whose production was formerly hindered by the superfluous
growth.59 In suchwise, then, and with such a disposition did he receive us at
first; and surveying us, as it were, with a husbandman's skill, and gauging us
thoroughly, and not confining his notice to those things only which are patent
to the eye of all, and which are looked upon in open light, but penetrating into
us more deeply, and probing what is most inward in us, he put us to the
question, and made propositions to us, and listened to us in our replies; and
whenever he thereby detected anything in us not wholly fruitless and profitless
and waste, he set about clearing the soil, and turning it up and irrigating it,
and putting all things in movement, and brought his whole skill and care to bear
on us, and wrought upon our mind. And thorns and thistles,60 and every kind of
wild herb or plant which our mind (so unregulated and precipitate in its own
action) yielded and produced in its uncultured luxuriance and native wildness,
he cut out and thoroughly removed by the processes of refutation and
prohibition; sometimes assailing us in the genuine Socratic fashion, and again
upsetting us by his argumentation whenever he saw us getting restive under him,
like so many unbroken steeds, and springing out of the course and galloping
madly about at random, until with a strange kind of persuasiveness and
constraint he reduced us to a state of quietude under him by his discourse,
which acted like a bridle in our mouth. And that was at first an unpleasant
position for us, and one not without pain, as he dealt with persons who were
unused to it, and still all untrained to submit to reason, when he plied us with
his argumentations; and yet he purged us by them. And when he had made us
adaptable, and had prepared us successfully for the reception of the words of
truth, then, further, as though we were now a soil well wrought and soft, and
ready to impart growth to the seeds cast into it, he dealt liberally with us,
and sowed the good seed in season, and attended to all the other cares of the
good husbandry, each in its own proper season. And whenever he perceived any
element of infirmity or baseness in our mind (whether it was of that character
by nature, or had become thus gross through the excessive nurture of the body),
he pricked it with his discourses, and reduced it by those delicate words and
turns of reasoning which, although at first the very simplest, are gradually
evolved one after the other, and skilfully wrought out, until they advance to a
sort of complexity which can scarce be mastered or unfolded, and which cause us
to start up, as it were, out of sleep, and teach us the art of holding always by
what is immediately before one, without ever making any slip by reason either of
length or of subtlety. And if there was in us anything of an injudicious and
precipitate tendency, whether in the way of assenting to all that came across
us, of whatever character the objects might be, and even though they proved
false, or in the way of often withstanding other things, even though they were
spoken truthfully,-that, too, he brought under discipline in us by those
delicate reasonings already mentioned, and by others of like kind (for this
branch of philosophy is of varied form), and accustomed us not to throw in our
testimony at one time, and again to refuse it, just at random, and as chance
impelled, but to give it only after careful examination not only into things
manifest, but also into those that are secret.61 For many things which are in
high repute of themselves, and honourable in appearance, have found entrance
through fair words into our ears, as though they were true, while yet they were
hollow and false, and have borne off and taken possession of the suffrage of
truth at our hand, and then, no long time afterwards, they have been discovered
to be corrupt and unworthy of credit, and deceitful borrowers of the garb of
truth; and have thus too easily exposed us as men who are ridiculously deluded,
and who bear their witness inconsiderately to things which ought by no means to
have won it. And, on the contrary, other things which are really honourable and
the reverse of impositions, but which have not been expressed in plausible
statements, and thus have the appearance of being paradoxical and most
incredible, and which have been rejected as false on their own showing, and held
up undeservedly to ridicule, have afterwards, on careful investigation and
examination, been discovered to be the truest of all things, and wholly
incontestable, though for a time spurned and reckoned false. Not simply, then,
by dealing with things patent and prominent, which are sometimes delusive and
sophistical, but also by teaching us to search into things within us, and to put
them all individually to the test, lest any of them should give back a hollow
sound, and by instructing us to make sure of these inward things first of all,
he trained us to give our assent to outward things only then and thus, and to
express our opinion on all these severally. In this way, that capacity of our
mind which deals critically with words and reasonings, was educated in a
rational manner; not according to the judgments of illustrious
rhetoricians-whatever Greek or foreign honour appertains to that title62 -for
theirs is a discipline of little value and no necessity: but in accordance with
that which is most needful for all, whether Greek or outlandish, whether wise or
illiterate, and, in fine, not to make a long statement by going over every
profession and pursuit separately, in accordance with that which is most
indispensable for all men, whatever manner of life they have chosen, if it is
indeed the care and interest of all who have to converse on any subject whatever
with each other, to be protected against deception.

Argument VIII.-Then in Due Succession He Instructs Them in Physics, Geometry,
and Astronomy. Nor did he confine his efforts merely to that form of the mind
which it is the lot of the dialectics to regulate;63 but he also took in hand
that humble capacity of mind, (which shows itself) in our amazement at the
magnitude, and the wondrousness, and the magnificent and absolutely wise
construction of the world, and in our marvelling in a reasonless way, and in our
being overpowered with fear, and in our knowing not, like the irrational
creatures, what conclusion to come to. That, too, he aroused and corrected by
other studies in natural science, illustrating and distinguishing the various
divisions of created objects, and with admirable clearness reducing them to
their pristine elements, taking them all up perspicuously in his discourse, and
going over the nature of the whole, and of each several section, and discussing
the multiform revolution and mutation of things in the world, until he carried
us frilly along with him under his clear teaching; and by those reasonings which
he had partly learned from others, and partly found out for himself, he filled
our minds with a rational instead of an irrational wonder at the sacred economy
of the universe, and irreproveable constitution of all things. This is that
sublime and heavenly study which is taught by natural philosophy-a science most
attractive to all. And what need is there now to speak of the sacred
mathematics, viz., geometry, so precious to all and above all controversy, and
astronomy, whose course is on high? These different studies he imprinted on our
understandings, training us in them, or calling them into our mind, or doing
with us something else which I know not how to designate rightly. And the one he
presented lucidly as the immutable groundwork and secure foundation of all,
namely geometry; and by the other, namely astronomy, he lifted us up to the
things that are highest above us, while he made heaven passable to us by the
help of each of these sciences, as though they were ladders reaching the skies.

Argument IX.-But He Imbues Their Minds, Above All, with Ethical Science; And He
Does Not Confine Himself to Discoursing on the Virtues in Word, But He Rather
Confirms His Teaching by His Acts.

Moreover, as to those things which excel all in importance, and those for the
sake of which, above all else, the whole64 family of the philosophical labours,
gathering them like good fruits produced by the varied growths of all the other
studies, and of long practised philosophizing,-I mean the divine virtues that
concern the moral nature, by which the impulses of the mind have their equable
and stable subsistence,-through these, too. he aimed at making us truly proof
against grief and disquietude under the pressure of all ills, and at imparting
to us a well-disciplined and stedfast and religious spirit, so that we might be
in all things veritably blessed. And this he toiled at effecting by pertinent
discourses, of a wise and soothing tendency, and very often also by the most
cogent addresses touching our moral dispositions, and our modes of life. Nor was
it only by words, but also by deeds, that he regulated in some measure our
inclinations,-to wit, by that very contemplation and observation of the impulses
and affections of the mind, by the issue of which most especially the mind is
wont to be reduced to a right estate from one of discord, and to be restored to
a condition of judgment and order out of one of confusion. So that, beholding
itself as in a mirror (and I may say specifically, viewing, on the one hand, the
very beginnings and roots of evil in it, and all that is reasonless within it,
from which spring up all absurd affections and passions; and, on the other hand,
all that is truly excellent and reasonable within it, trader the sway of which
it remains proof against injury and perturbation in itself65 , and then
scrutinizing carefully the things thus discovered to be in it), it might cast
out all those which are the growth of the inferior part, and which waste our
powers66 through intemperance, or hinder and choke them through depression,-such
things as pleasures and lusts, or pains and fears, and the whole array of ills
that accompany these different species of evil. I say that thus it might cast
them out and make away with them, by coping with them while yet in their
beginnings and only just commencing their growth, and not leaving them to wax in
strength even by a short delay, but destroying and rooting them out at once;
while, at the same time, it might foster all those things which are really good,
and which spring from the nobler part, and might preserve them by nursing them
in their beginnings, and watching carefully over them until they should reach
their maturity. For it is thus (he used to say) that the heavenly virtues will
ripen in the soul: to wit, prudence, which first of all is able to judge of
those very motions in the mind at once from the things themselves, and by the
knowledge which accrues to it of things outside of us, whatever such there may
be, both good and evil; and temperance, the power that makes the right selection
among these things in their beginnings; and righteousness, which assigns what is
just to each; and that virtue which is the conserver of them all-fortitude. And
therefore he did not accustom us to a mere profession in words, as that
prudence, for instance, is the knowledge67 of good and evil, or of what ought to
be done, and what ought not: for that would be indeed a vain and profitless
study, if there was simply the doctrine without the deed; and worthless would
that prudence be, which, without doing the things that ought to be done, and
without turning men away from those that ought not to be done, should be able
merely to furnish the knowledge of these things to those who possessed
her,-though many such persons come under our observation. Nor, again, did he
content himself with the mere assertion that temperance is simply the knowledge
of what ought to be chosen and what ought not; though the other schools of
philosophers do not teach even so much as that, and especially the more recent,
who are so forcible and vigorous in words (so that I have often been astonished
at them, when they sought to demonstrate that there is the same virtue in God
and in men, and that upon earth, in particular, the wise man is equal68 to God),
and yet are incapable of delivering the truth as to prudence, so that one shall
do the things which are dictated by prudence, or the truth as to temperance, so
that one shall choose the things he has learned by it; and the same holds good
also of their treatment of righteousness and fortitude. Not thus, however, in
mere words only did this teacher go over the truths concerning the virtues with
us; but he incited us much more to the practice of virtue, and stimulated us by
the deeds he did more than by the doctrines he taught.

Argument X.-Hence the Mere Word-Sages are Confuted, Who Say and Yet Act Not.

Now I beg of the philosophers of this present time, both those whom I have known
personally myself, and those of whom I bare heard by report from others, and I
beg also of all other men, that they take in good part the statements I have
just made. And let no one suppose that I have expressed myself thus, either
through simple friendship toward that man, or through hatred toward the rest of
the philosophers; for if there is any one inclined to be an admirer of them for
their discourses, and wishful to speak well of them, and pleased at hearing the
most honourable mention made of them by others, I myself am the man.
Nevertheless, those facts (to which I have referred) are of such a nature as to
bring upon the very name of philosophy the last degree of ridicule almost from
the great mass of men; and I might almost say that I would choose to be
altogether unversed in it, rather than learn any of the things which these men
profess, with whom I thought it good no longer to associate myself in this
life,-though in that, it may be, I formed an incorrect judgment. But I say that
no one should suppose that I make these statements at the mere prompting of a
zealous regard for the praise of this man, or under the stimulus of any existing
animosity69 towards other philosophers. But let all be assured that I say even
less than his deeds merit, lest I should seem to be indulging in adulation; and
that I do not seek out studied words and phrases, and cunning means of
laudation-I who could never of my own will, even when I was a youth, and
learning the popular style of address trader a professor of the art of public
speaking, bear to utter a word of praise, or pass any encomium on any one which
was not genuine. Wherefore on the present occasion, too, I do not think it
right, in proposing to myself the task simply of commending him, to magnify him
at the cost of the reprobation of others. And, in good sooth,70 I should speak
only to the man's injury, if, with the view of having something grander to say
of him, I should compare his blessed life with the failings of others. We are
not, however, so senseless.71 But I shall testify simply to what has come within
my own experience, apart from all ill-judged comparisons and trickeries in
words.

Argument XI.-Origen is the First and the Only One that Exhorts Gregory to Add to
His Acquirements the Study of Philosophy, and Offers Him in a Certain Manner an
Example in Himself. Of Justice, Prudence, Temperance, and Fortitude. The Maxim,
Know Thyself.

He was also the first and only man that urged me to study the philosophy of the
Greeks, and persuaded me by his own moral example both to hear and to hold by
the doctrine of morals, while as yet I had by no means been won over to that, so
far as other philosophers were concerned (I again acknowledge it),-not rightly
so, indeed, but unhappily, as I may say without exaggeration, for me. I did not,
however, associate with many at first, but only with some few who professed to
be teachers, though, in good sooth, they all established their philosophy only
so far as words went.72 This man, however, was the first that induced me to
philosophize by his words, as he pointed the exhortation by deeds before he gave
it in words, and did not merely recite well-studied sentences; nay, he did not
deem it right to speak on the subject at all, but with a sincere mind, and one
bent on striving ardently after the practical accomplishment of the things
expressed, and he endeavoured all the while to show himself in character like
the man whom he describes in his discourses as the person who shall lead a noble
life, and he ever exhibited (in himself), I would say, the pattern of the wise
man. But as our discourse at the outset proposed to deal with the truth, and not
with vain-glorious language,73 I shall not speak of him now as the exemplar of
the wise man. And yet, if I chose to speak thus of him, I should not be far
astray from the truth.74 Nevertheless, I pass that by at present. I shall not
speak of him as a perfect pattern, but as one who vehemently desires to imitate
the perfect pattern, and strives after it with zeal and earnestness, even beyond
the capacity of men, if I may so express myself; and who labours, moreover, also
to make us, who are so different,75 of like character with himself, not mere
masters and apprehenders of the bald doctrines concerning the impulses of the
soul, but masters and apprehenders of these impulses themselves. For he
pressed76 us on both to deed and to doctrine, and carried us along by that same
view and method,77 not merely into a small section of each virtue, but rather
into the whole, if mayhap we were able to take it in. And he constrained us
also, if I may so speak, to practise righteousness on the ground of the personal
action of the soul itself,78 which be persuaded us to study, drawing us off from
the officious anxieties of life, and from the turbulence of the forum, and
raising us to the nobler vocation of looking into ourselves, and dealing with
the things that concern ourselves in truth. Now, that this is to practise
righteousness, and that this is the true righteousness, some also of our ancient
philosophers have asserted (expressing it as the personal action, I think), and
have affirmed that this is more profitable for blessedness, both to the men
themselves and to those who are with them,79 if indeed it belongs to this virtue
to recompense according to desert, and to assign to each his own. For what else
could be supposed to be so proper to the soul? Or what could be so worthy of it,
as to exercise a care over itself, not gazing outwards, or busying itself with
alien matters, or, to peak shortly, doing the worst injustice to itself, but
turning its attention inwardly upon itself, rendering its own due to itself, and
acting thereby righteously?80 To practise righteousness after this fashion,
therefore, he impressed upon us, if I may so speak, by a sort of force. And he
educated us to prudence none the less,-teaching to be at home with ourselves,
and to desire and endeavour to know ourselves, which indeed is the most
excellent achievement of philosophy, the thing that is ascribed also to the most
prophetic of spirits81 as the highest argument of wisdom-the precept, Know
thyself. And that this is the genuine function of prudence, and that such is the
heavenly prudence, is affirmed well by the ancients; for in this there is one
virtue common to God and to man; while the soul is exercised in beholding itself
as in a mirror, and reflects the divine mind in itself, if it is worthy of such
a relation, and traces out a certain inexpressible method for the attaining of a
kind of apotheosis. And in correspondence with this come also the virtues of
temperance. and fortitude: temperance, indeed, in conserving this very prudence
which must be in the soul that knows itself, if that is ever its lot (for this
temperance, again, surely means just a sound prudence):82 and fortitude, in
keeping stedfastly by all the duties83 which have been spoken of, without
falling away from them, either voluntarily or under any force, and in keeping
and holding by all that has been laid down. For he teaches that this virtue acts
also as a kind of preserver, maintainer, and guardian.

Argument XII.-Gregory Disallows Any Attainment of the Virtues on His Part. Piety
is Both the Beginning and the End, and Thus It is the Parent of All the Virtues.

It is true, indeed that in consequence of our dull and sluggish nature, he has
not yet succeeded in making us righteous, and prudent, and temperate, or manly,
although he has laboured zealously on us. For we are neither in real possession
of any virtue whatsoever, either human or divine, nor have we ever made any near
approach to it, but we are still far from it. And these are very great and lofty
virtues, and none of them may be assumed by any common person,84 but only by one
whom God inspires with the power. We are also by no means so favourably
constituted for them by nature, neither do we yet profess ourselves to be worthy
of reaching them; for through our listlessness and feebleness we have not done
all these things which ought to be done by those who aspire after what is
noblest, and aim at what is perfect. We are not yet therefore either righteous
or temperate, or endowed with any of the other virtues. But this admirable man.
this friend and advocate of the virtues, has long ago done for us perhaps all
that it lay in his power to do for us, in making us lovers of virtue, who should
love it with the most ardent affection. And by his own virtue he created in us a
love at once for the beauty of righteousness the golden face of which in truth
was shown to us by him; and for prudence, which is worthy of being sought by
all; and for the true wisdom, which is most delectable; and for temperance, the
heavenly virtue which forms the sound constitution of the soul, and brings peace
to all who possess it; and for manliness, that most admirable grace; and for
patience, that virtue peculiarly ours;85 and, above all, for piety, which men
rightly designate when they call it the mother of the virtues. For this is the
beginning and the end of all the virtues. And beginning with this one, we shall
find all the other virtues grow upon us most readily: if, white for ourselves we
earnestly aspire after this grace, which every man, be he only not absolutely
impious, or a mere pleasure-seeker, ought to acquire for himself, in order to
his being a friend of God and a maintainer86 of His truth, and while we
diligently pursue this virtue, we also give heed to the other virtues, in order
that we may not approach our God in unworthiness and impurity, but with all
virtue and wisdom as our best conductors and most sagacious priests. And the end
of all I consider to be nothing but this: By the pure mind make thyself like87
to God, that thou mayest draw near to Him, and abide in Him.

Argument XIII.-The Method Which Origen Used in His Theological and Metaphysical
Instructions. He Commends the Study of All Writers, the Atheistic Alone
Excepted. The Marvellous Power of Persuasion in Speech. The Facility of the Mind
in Giving Its Assent. And besides all his other patient and laborious efforts,
how shall I in words give any account of what he did for us, in instructing us
in theology and the devout character? and how shall I enter into the real
disposition of the man, and show with what judiciousness and careful preparation
he would have us familiarized with all discourse about the Divinity, guarding
sedulously against our being in any peril with respect to what is the most
needful thing of all, namely, the knowledge of the Cause of all things? For he
deemed it right for us to study philosophy in such wise. that we should read
with utmost diligence all that has been written, both by the philosophers and by
the poets of old, rejecting nothing,88 and repudiating nothing (for, indeed, we
did not yet possess the power of critical discernment), except only the
productions of the atheists, who, in their conceits, lapse from the general
intelligence of man, and deny that there is either a God or a providence. From
these he would have us abstain, because they are not worthy of being read, and
because it might chance that the soul within us that is meant for piety might be
defiled by listening to words that are contrary to the worship of God. For even
those who frequent the temples of piety, as they think them to be, are careful
not to touch anything that is profane.89 He held, therefore, that the books of
such men did not merit to be taken at all into the consideration of men who have
assumed the practice of piety. He thought, however, that we should obtain and
make ourselves familiar with all other writings, neither preferring nor
repudiating any one kind, whether it be philosophical discourse or not, whether
Greek or foreign, but hearing what all of them have to convey. And it was with
great wisdom and sagacity that he acted on this principle, test any single
saying given by the one class or the other should be heard and valued above
others as alone true, even though it might not be true, and test it might thus
enter our mind and deceive us, and, in being lodged there by itself alone, might
make us its own, so that we should no more have the power to withdraw from it,
or wash ourselves clear of it, as one washes out a little wool that has got some
colour ingrained in it. For a mighty thing and an energetic is the discourse of
man, and subtle with its sophisms, and quick to find its way into the cars, and
mould the mind, and impress us with what it conveys; and when once it has taken
possession of us, it can win us over to love it as truth; and it holds its place
within us even though it be false and deceitful, overmastering us like some
enchanter, and retaining as its champion the very man it has deluded. And, on
the other hand, the mind of man is withal a thing easily deceived by speech, and
very facile in yielding its assent; and, indeed, before it discriminates and
inquires into matters in any proper way, it is easily won over, either through
its own obtuseness and imbecility, or through the subtlety of the discourse, to
give itself up, at random often, all weary of accurate examination, to crafty
reasonings and judgments, which are erroneous themselves, and which lead into
error those who receive them. And not only so; but if another mode of discourse
aims at correcting it, it will neither give it admittance, nor stiffer itself to
be altered in opinion, because it is held fast by any notion which has
previously got possession of it, as though some inexorable tyrant were lording
over it.

Argument XIV.-Whence the Contentions of Philosophers Have Sprung. Against Those
Who Catch at Everything that Meets Them, and Give It Credence, and Cling to It.
Origen Was in the Habit of Carefully Reading and Explaining the Books of the
Heathen to His Disciples. Is it not thus that contradictory and opposing tenets
have been introduced, and all the contentions of philosophers, while one party
withstands the opinions of another, and some hold by certain positions, and
others by others, and one school attaches itself to one set of dogmas, and
another to another? And all, indeed, aim at philosophizing, and profess to have
been doing so ever since they were first roused to it, and declare that they
desire it not less now when they are well versed in the discussions than when
they began them: yea, rather they allege that they have even more love for
philosophy now, after they have had, so to speak, a little taste of it, and have
had the liberty of dwelling on its discussions, than when at first, and without
any previous experience of it, they were urged by a sort of impulse to
philosophize. That is what they say; and henceforth they give no heed to any
words of those who hold opposite opinions. And accordingly, no one of the
ancients has ever induced any one of the moderns, or those of the Peripatetic
school, to turn to his way of thinking, and adopt his method of philosophizing;
and, on the other band, none of the moderns has imposed his notions upon those
of the ancient school. Nor, in short, has any one done so with any other.90 For
it is not an easy thing to induce one to give up his own opinions, and accept
those of others; although these might, perhaps, even be sentiments which, if he
had been led to credit them before he began to philosophize, the man might at
first have admired and accepted with all readiness: as, while the mind was not
yet preoccupied, he might have directed his attention to that set of opinions,
and given them his approval, and on their behalf opposed himself to those which
he holds at present. Such, at least, has been the kind of philosophizing
exhibited by our noble and most eloquent and critical Greeks: for whatever any
one of these has lighted on at the outset, moved by some impulse or other, that
alone he declares to be truth, and holds that all else which is maintained by
other philosophers is simply delusion and folly, though he himself does not more
satisfactorily establish his own positions by argument, than do all the others
severally defend their peculiar tenets; the man's object being simply to be
under no obligation to give up and alter his opinions, whether by constraint or
by persuasion, while he has (if one may speak truth) nothing else but a kind of
unreasoning impulse towards these dogmas on the side of philosophy, and
possesses no other criterion of what he imagines to be true, than (let it not
seem an incredible assertion) undistinguishing chance.91 And as each one thus
becomes attached to those positions with which he has first fallen in, and is,
as it were, held in chains by them, he is no longer capable of giving attention
to others, if he happens to have anything of his own to offer on every subject
with the demonstration of truth, and if he has the aid of argument to show how
false the tenets of his adversaries are; for, helplessly and thoughtlessly and
as if he looked for some happy contingency, he yields himself to the reasonings
that first take possession of him.92 And such reasonings mislead those who
accept them, not only in other matters, but above all, in what is of greatest
and most essential consequence-in the knowledge of God and in piety. And yet men
become bound by them in such a manner that no one can very easily release them.
For they are like men caught in a swamp stretching over some wide impassable
plain, which, when they have once fallen into it, allows them neither to retrace
their steps nor to cross it and effect their safety, but keeps them down in its
soil until they meet their end; or they may be compared to men in a deep, dense,
and majestic forest, into which the wayfarer enters, with the idea, perchance,
of finding his road out of it again forthwith, and of taking his course
once!more on the open plain,93 but is baffled in his purpose by the extent and
thickness of the wood. And turning in a variety of directions, and lighting on
various continuous paths within it, he pursues many a course, thinking that by
some of them he will surely find his way out: but they only lead him farther in,
and in no way open up an exit for him, inasmuch as they are all only paths
within the forest itself; until at last the traveller, utterly worn out and
exhausted, seeing that all the ways he had tried had proved only forest still,
and despairing of finding any more his dwelling-place on earth, makes up his
mind to abide there, and establish his hearth, and lay out for his use such free
space as he can prepare in the wood itself. Or again, we might take the
similitude of a labyrinth, which has but one apparent entrance, so that one
suspects nothing artful from the outside, and goes within by the single door
that shows itself; and then, after advancing to the farthest interior, and
viewing the cunning spectacle, and examining the construction so skillfully
contrived, and full of passages, and laid out with unending paths leading
inwards or outwards, he decides to go out again, but finds himself unable, and
sees his exit completely intercepted by that inner construction which appeared
such a triumph of cleverness. But, after all, there is neither any labyrinth so
inextricable and intricate, nor any forest so dense and devious, nor any plain
or swamp so difficult for those to get out of, who have once got within it, as
is discussion,94 at least as one may meet with it in the case of certain of
these philosophers.95 Wherefore, to secure us against falling into the unhappy
experience of most, he did not introduce us to any one exclusive school of
philosophy; nor did he judge it proper for us to go away with any single class
of philosophical opinions, but he introduced us to all, and determined that we
should be ignorant of no kind of Grecian doctrine.96 And he himself went on with
us, preparing the way before us, and leading us by the hand, as on a journey,
whenever anything tortuous and unsound and delusive came in our way. And be
helped us like a skilled expert who has had long familiarity with such subjects,
and is not strange or inexperienced in anything of the kind, and who therefore
may remain safe in his own altitude, while he stretches forth his hand to
others, and effects their security too, as one drawing up the submerged. Thus
did he deal with us, selecting and setting before us all that was useful and
true in all the various philosophers, and putting aside all that was false. And
this he did for us, both in other branches of man's knowledge, and most
especially in all that concerns piety.

Argument XV.-File Case of Divine Matters. Only God and His Prophets are to Be
Heard in These. The Prophets and Their Auditors are Acted on by the Same
Afflatus. Origen's Excellence in the Interpretation of Scripture. With respect
to these human teachers, indeed, he counselled us to attach ourselves to none of
them, not even though they were attested as most wise by all men, but to devote
ourselves to God alone, and to the prophets. And he himself became the
interpreter of the prophets97 to us, and explained whatsoever was dark or
enigmatical in them. For there are many things of that kind in the sacred words;
and whether it be that God is pleased to hold communication with men in such a
way as that the divine word may not enter all naked and uncovered into an
unworthy soul, such as many are, or whether it be, that while every divine
oracle is in its own nature most clear and perspicuous, it seems obscure and
dark to us, who have apostatized from God, and have lost the faculty of hearing
through time and age, I cannot tell. But however the case may stand, if it he
that there are some words really enigmatical, he explained all such, and set
them in the light, as being himself a skilled and most discerning hearer of God;
or if it be that none of them are really obscure in their own nature, they were
also not unintelligible to him, who alone of all men of the present time with
whom I have myself been acquainted, or of whom I have heard by the report of
others, has so deeply studied the clear and luminous oracles of God, as to be
able at once to receive their meaning into his own mind, and to convey it to
others. For that Leader of all men, who inspires98 God's dear prophets, and
suggests all their prophecies and their mystic and heavenly words, has honoured
this man as He would a friend, and has constituted him an expositor of these
same oracles; and things of which He only gave a hint by others, He made matters
of full instruction by this man's instrumentality; and in things which He, who
is worthy of all trust, either enjoined in regal fashion, or simply enunciated,
He imparted to this man the gift of investigating and unfolding and explaining
them: so that, if there chanced to be any one of obtuse and incredulous mind, or
one again thirsting for instruction, he might learn from this man, and in some
manner be constrained to understand and to decide for belief, and to follow God.
These things, moreover, as I judge, he gives forth only and truly by
participation in the Divine Spirit: for there is need of the same power for or
those who prophesy and for those who hear the prophets; and no one can rightly
hear a prophet, unless the same Spirit who prophesies bestows on him the
capacity of apprehending His words. And this principle is expressed indeed in
the Holy Scriptures themselves, when it is said that only He who shutteth
openeth, and no other one whatever;99 and what is shut is opened when the word
of inspiration explains mysteries. Now that greatest gift this man has received
from God, and that noblest of all endowments he has had bestowed upon him from
heaven, that he should be an interpreter of the oracles of God to men,100 and
that he might understand the words of God, even as if God spake them to him, and
that he might recount them to men in such wise as that they may hear them with
intelligence.101 Therefore to us there was no forbidden subject of speech;102
for there was no matter of knowledge hidden or inaccessible to us, but we had it
in our power to learn every kind of discourse, both foreign103 and Greek, both
spiritual and political, both divine and human; and we were permitted with all
freedom to go round the whole circle of knowledge, and investigate it, and
satisfy ourselves with all kinds of doctrines, and enjoy the sweets of
intellect. And whether it was some ancient system of truth, or whether it was
something one might otherwise name that was before us, we had in him an
apparatus and a power at once admirable and full of the most beautiful views.
And to speak in brief, he was truly a paradise to us after the similitude of the
paradise of God, wherein we were not set indeed to till the soil beneath us, or
to make ourselves gross with bodily nurture,104 but only to increase the
acquisitions of mind with all gladness and enjoyment,-planting, so to speak,
some fair growths ourselves, or having them planted in us by the Author of all
things.

Argument XVI.-Gregory Laments His Departure Under a Threefold Comparison;
Likening It to Adam's Departure Out of Paradise. To the Prodigal Son's
Abandonment of His Father's House, and to the Deportation of the Jews into
Babylon.

Here, truly, is the paradise of comfort; here are true gladness and pleasure, as
we have enjoyed them during this period which is now at its end-no short space
indeed in itself, and yet all too short if this is really to be its conclusion,
when we depart and leave this place behind us. For I know not what has possessed
me, or what offence has been committed by me, that I should now be going
away-that I should now be put away. I know not what I should say, unless it be
that I am like a second Adam and have begun to talk, outside of paradise. How
excellent might my life be, were I but a listener to the addresses of my
teacher, and silent myself! Would that even now I could have learned to be mute
and speechless, rather than to present this new spectacle of making the teacher
the hearer! For what concern had I with such a harangue as this? and what
obligation was there upon me to make such an address, when it became me not to
depart, but to cleave fast to the place? But these things seem like the
transgressions that sprung from the pristine deceit, and the penalties of these
primeval offences still await me here. Do I not appear to myself to be
disobedient105 in daring thus to overpass the words of God, when I ought to
abide in them, and hold by them? And in that I withdraw, I flee from this
blessed life, even as the primeval man fled from the face of God, and I return
to the soil from which I was taken. Therefore shall I have to eat of the soil
all the days of my life there, and I shall have to till the soil-the very soil
which produces thorns and thistles for me, that is to say, pains and reproachful
anxieties-set loose as I shall be from cares that are good and noble. And what I
left behind me before, to that I now return-to the soil, as it were, from which
I came, and to my common relationships here below, and to my father's
house-leaving the good soil, where of old I knew not that the good fatherland
lay; leaving also the relations in whom at a later period I began to recognise
the true kinsmen of my soul, and the house, too, of him who is ill truth our
father, in which the father abides, and is piously honoured and revered by the
genuine sons, whose desire it also is to abide therein. But I, destitute alike
of all piety and worthiness, am going forth from the number of these, and am
turning back to what is behind, and am retracing my steps. It is recorded that a
certain son, receiving from his father tile portion of goods that fell to him
proportionately with the other heir, his brother, departed, by his own
determination, into a strange country far distant from his father; and, living
there in riot, he scattered his ancestral substance, and utterly wasted it; and
at last, under the pressure of want, he hired himself as a swine-herd; and being
driven to extremity by hunger, he longed to share the food given to the swine,
but could not touch it. Thus did he pay the penalty of his dissolute life, when
he had to exchange his father's table, which was a princely one, for something
he had not looked forward to-the sustenance of swine and serfs. And we also seem
to have some such fortune before us, now that we are departing, and that, too,
without the full portion that falls to us. For though we have not received all
that we ought, we are nevertheless going away, leaving behind us what is noble
and dear with you and beside you, and taking in exchange only what is inferior.
For all things melancholy will now meet us in succession,-tumult and confusion
instead of peace, and an unregulated life instead of one of tranquillity and
harmony, and a hard bondage, and the slavery of market-places, and lawsuits, and
crowds, instead of this freedom; and neither pleasure nor any sort of leisure
shall remain to us for the pursuit of nobler objects. Neither shall we have to
speak of the words of inspiration, but we shall have to speak of the works of
men,-a thing which has been deemed simply a bane by the prophet,106 -and in our
case, indeed, those of wicked men And truly we shall have night in place of
clay, and darkness in place of the clear light, and grief instead of the festive
assembly; and in place of a fatherland, a hostile country will receive us, in
which I shall have no liberty to sing my sacred song,107 for how could I sing it
in a land strange to my soul, in which the sojourners have no permission to
approach God? but only to weep and mourn, as I call to mind the different state
of things here, if indeed even that shall be in my power. We read108 that
enemies once assailed a great and sacred city, in which the worship of God was
observed, and dragged away its inhabitants, both singers and prophets,109 into
their own country, which was Babylon. And it is narrated that these captives,
when they were detained in the land, refused, even when asked by their
conquerors, to sing the divine song, or to play in a profane country, and hung
their harps on the willow-trees, and wept by the rivers of Babylon. Like one of
these I verily seem to myself to be, as I am cast forth from this city, and from
this sacred fatherland of mine, where both by day and by night the holy laws are
declared, and hymns and songs and spiritual words are heard; where also there is
perpetual sunlight; where by day in waking vision110 we have access to the
mysteries of God, and by night in dreams111 we are still occupied with what the
soul has seen and handled in the day; and where, in short, the inspiration of
divine things prevails over all continually. From this city, I say, I am cast
forth, and borne captive to a strange land, where I shall have no power to
pipe:112 for, like these men of old, I shall have to hang my instrument on the
willows, and the rivers shall be my place of sojourn, and I shall have to work
in mud, and shall have no heart to sing hymns, even though I remember them; yea,
it may be that, through constant occupation with other subjects, I shall forget
even them, like one spoiled of memory itself. And would that, in going away, I
only went away against my will, as a captive is wont to do; but I go away also
of my own will, and not by constraint of another; and by my own act I am
dispossessed of this city, when it is in my option to remain in it. Perchance,
too, in leaving this place, I may be going to prosecute no safe journey, as it
sometimes fares with one who quits some safe and peaceful city; and it is indeed
but too likely that, in journeying, I may fall into the hands of robbers, and be
taken prisoner, and be stripped and wounded with many strokes, and be cast forth
to lie half-dead somewhere.

Argument XVII.-Gregory Consoles Himself. But why should I utter such
lamentations? There lives still the Saviour of all men, even of the half-dead
and the despoiled, the Protector and Physician for all, the Word, that sleepless
Keeper of all. We have also seeds of truth which thou hast made us know as oar
possession, and all that we have received from thee,-those noble deposits of
instruction, with which we take our coarse; and though we weep, indeed, as those
who go forth from home, we yet carry those seeds with us. It may be, then, that
the Keeper who presides over us will bear us in safety through all that shall
befall as; and it may be that we shall come yet again to thee, bringing with us
the fruits and handfuls yielded by these seeds, far from perfect truly, for how
could they be so? but still such as a life spent in civil business113 makes it
possible for us to rear, though marred indeed by a kind of faculty that is
either unapt to bear fruit altogether, or prone to bear bad fruit, but which, I
trust, is one not destined to be further misused by us, if God grants us
grace.114 Argument XVIII.-Peroration, and Apology for the Oration.

Wherefore let me now have done with this address, which I have had the boldness
to deliver m a presence wherein boldness least became me. Yet this address is
one which, I think, has aimed heartily at signifying our thanks to the best of
our ability,-for though we have had noticing to say worthy of the subject, we
could not be altogether silent,-and one, too, which has given expression to our
regrets, as those are wont to do who go abroad in separation from friends. And
whether this speech of mine may not have contained things puerile or bordering
on flattery, or things offending by excess of simplicity on the one hand, or of
elaboration on the other, I know not. Of this, however, I am clearly conscious,
that at least there is in it nothing unreal, but all that is true and genuine,
in sincerity of opinion, and in purity and integrity of judgment.

Argument XIX.-Apostrophe to Origen, and Therewith the Leave-Taking, and the
Urgent Utterance of Prayer.

But, O dear soul, arise thou and offer prayer, and now dismiss us; and as by thy
holy instructions thou hast been our rescuer when we enjoyed thy fellowship, so
save us still by thy prayers in our separation. Commend us and set us
constantly115 before thee in prayer. Or rather commend us continually to that
God who brought us to time, giving thanks for all that has been granted us in
the past, and imploring Him still to lead us by the hand in the future, and to
stand ever by us, filling oar mind with the understanding of His precepts,
inspiring us with the godly fear of Himself, and vouchsafing us henceforward His
choicest guidance.116 For when we are gone from thee, we shall not have the same
liberty for obeying Him as was ours when we were with thee.117 Pray, therefore,
that some encouragement may be conveyed to us from Him when we lose thy
presence, and that He may send us a good conductor, some angel to be our comrade
on the way, And entreat Him also to turn our course, for that is the one thing
which above all else will effectually comfort us, and bring us back to thee
again.

1: Delivered by Gregory Thaumaturgus in the Palestinian Caesareia, when about to
leave for his own country, after many years' instruction under that teacher. [
Circa A.D. 238.] Gallandi, Opera , p. 413.

2: kalo/n , for which Hoeschelius has a0gaqo/n .

3: a#peiroj , for which Hoeschelius has a0na/skhtoj .

4: a0kwlu/tw| , for which Bengel suggests a0kolou/qw| .

5: eu0eidei= , for which Ger. Vossius gives a0yeudei= .

6: [See my introductory note, supra . He refers to Caius, Papinian, Ulpian; all,
probably, of Syrian origin, and using the Greek as their vernacular.]

7: sugkei/me/noi , which is rendered by some conduntur , by others confectae
sunt , and by others still componantur , harmonized,-the reference then being to
the difficulty experienced in learning the laws, in the way of harmonizing those
which apparently oppose each other.

8: a0kribei=j , for which Ger. Vossius gives eu0sebeij , pious.

9: [A noteworthy estimate of Latin by a Greek.]

10: ei0 kai\ boulhto/n , etc., for which Hoeschelius gives ou#te boulhto/n, etc.
The Latin version gives, non enim aliter sentire aut posse aut velle me unquam
dixerim.

11: farma/kwn .

12: xarakth=raj tw=n th=j yuxh=j tu/pwn .

13: aspasa/menoi h9de/wj, e0pei kai\ perifronh/santej . The passage is
considered by some to be mutilated.

14: The text is, a0lla\ ga\r e0k tri/twn au[qij a#llwj kwlu/ei, , etc. For
a#llwj Hoeschelius gives a#lla dh/ , Bengel follows him, and renders it, sed
rursum, tertio loco, aliud est quod prohibet . Delarue proposes, a/lla\ ga\r e#n
tri/ton au[qij a#llwj kwlu/ei .

15: to\ de pol\u\ th=j e#cewj .

16: This is the rendering according to the Latin version. The text is,
a0peskeuasme/nou h=dh mei/zoni paraskeuh=| metanasta/sewj th=j pro\j to qei=on .
Vossius reads, met' a0nasta/sewj .

17: w[n h#ttwn fronti\j kat' a0ci\an te kai\ mh\, legome/nwn .

18: The text is, mh0 kai\ yuxro\n h# perperon h|[ , where, according to Bengel,
mh/ has the force of ut non dicam.

19: But the text reads, ou=k eu0lo/gwj .

20: a0safw=n . But Ger. Voss has a0sfalw=n , safe.

21: Reading o#tw , with Hoeschelius, Bengel, and the Paris editor, while Voss.
reads o#ti .

22: Luke xxi. 2.

23: panagei= , which in the lexicons is given as bearing only the good sense,
all-hallowed , but which here evidently is taken in the opposite.

24: e0kperiw/n in the text, for which Bengel gives e0kperii#w/n , a word used
frequently by this author. In Dorner it is explained as = going out of Himself
in order to embrace and encompass Himself. See the Doctrine of the Person of
Christ , A. II. p. 173 (Clark).

25: lo/goj .

26: [The unformed theological mind of a youth is here betrayed.] 27: The text
gives melhgorei=n , for which others read megalhgorei=n .

28: Gen. xlviii. 15. [Jacob refers to the Jehovah-Angel.]

29: The text gives e0moi\ , etc.,... sumferon ei\nai katafai/netai. . Bengel's
idea of the sense is followed in the translation.

30: ta\ pa/tria e#qh ta\ peplanhme/na .

31: [The force of the original is not opprobrious.] 32: Reading h$ dh/ . Others
give h$ dh/ ; others, h[dh ; and the conjecture h$ h/bh "or my youth," is also
made.

33: lo/gou .

34: Word.

35: The text, however, gives a0le/ktrw| .

36: ai0tiw=n , causes.

37: Reading tou/yw| e0pi\ nou=n ba\w/n .

38: e0fo/dion .

39: The text is a0poxe/ousa . Hoeschelius gives a0pe/xousa .

40: 9Rwmai>\kwte/ra pw=j .

41: The text is, ou0de\n ou#twj a0nagkai=on h[n o#son e0pi\ toi=j no/moij
h9mw=n, du/ato\n o#n kai\ e0pi\ th\n 9Rwmai/wn a0podhmh=sai po/lin . Bengel
takes o#son as pare/lkon . Migne renders, nullam ei fuisse necessitatem huc
veniendi, discendi leges causa, siquidem Romam posset proficisci. Sirmondus
makes it, nulla causa adeo necessaria erat qua possem per leges nostras ad
Romanorum civitatem proficisci.

42: The text gives e0kponh/santej . Casaubon reads e0kpoih/sontej .

43: eu#logon .

44: su/mbola .

45: di/ au0tou= . Bengel understands this to refer to the soldier.

46: The text is, thn a0lhqh= di' au0tou= peri ta\ tou= logou maqh/mata . Bengel
takes this as an ellipsis, like th\n e9autou=, th\n emh\n mi/an , and similar
phrases, gnw/mhn or o\do/n , or some such word, being supplied. Casaubon
conjectures kai\ a0lhqh= , for which Bengel would prefer ta a0lhqh= .

47: oi0konomi/an .

48: [I think Lardner's inclination to credit Gregory with some claim to be an
alumnus of Berytus, is very fairly sustained.] 49: qremma/twn .

50: The text here is, tau=q' a#per h9ma=j a0ne/swiw, ma/lista le/gwn kai ma/la
texnikw=j, tou= kuriwta/tou, fhsi\, tw=n e0n h9mi=n lo/gou, a0melh/santaj .

51: The text gives e0k prw/thj h9liki/aa, which Bengel takes to be an error for
the absolute e0k prw/thj , to which h9meraj would be supplied. Casaubon and
Rhodomanus read o9mili/aj for h9liki/aj .

52: 1 Sam. xviii. 1.

53: a#takton .

54: to plei=on .

55: The text gives sumblu/santa w9j , for which Casaubon proposes sumfu/santa
ei0j e#n, or w9j e#n . Bengel suggests sumbru/sanra w9j e#/n .

56: no/qon .

57: The text gives e0kei= , for which Hoeschelius and Bengel read ei/kh= .

58: teleiousqai de\ th|= bla/syh| .

59: u9p' a0llh/lwn .

60: tribo/louj .

61: The words a0lla\ kekrumme/na are omitted by Hoeschelius and Bengel.

62: e0i ti 9Ellhniko\n h@ ba/rbaro/n e0sti th|= fwnh|=.

63: The text is, kai mh\ tou=q' o@per ei[doj dialektikh\ katorqou=n monh ei@lhxe
.

64: pa=n to\ filo/sofon . Hoeschelius and Bengel read pw=j , etc.

65: The text gives u9f' e0auth=j , for which Bengel reads e0f' e9auth=j .

66: e0kxe/onta hma=j .

67: e0pisth/mh, science.

68: ta\ prw=ta Qew|= i[son ei[nai ton sofo\n a@nqrwpon .

69: filotimi/a , for which filoneiki/a is read.

70: The text is, n@ kakw=n a@n e@legon , etc. The Greek h@ and the Latin aut are
found sometimes thus with a force bordering on that of alioqui.

71: a0frai/nomen . The Paris editor would read a0frai/nw me/n .

72: a0lla\ ga\r pa=si me/xri r9hma/twn to\ filosofei=n sthsasin .

73: The text is, a0ll' e0pei\ a0lh/qeian h9mi=n, ou0 komyei/an e0phggei/lato o9
lo/goj a@nwqen . The Latin rendering is, sed quia veritatem nobis, non pompam et
ornatum promisit oratio in exordio.

74: The text is, kai/toi ge ei/pei=n e0qe/lwn ei[nai te a0lhqe/j . Bengal takes
the te as pleonastic, or as an error for the article, t' a0lhqe/j . The ei\nai
in e0qe/lwn ei\nai he takes to be the use of the infinitive which occurs in such
phrases as th\n prw/thn ei\nai, initio e/kw\n ei0nai, libenter , to\ de\ nu=n
ei\nai, nunc vero , etc.; and, giving e0qe/lwn the sense of me/llwn , makes the
whole = And yet I shall speak truth.

75: The text is, kai\ h9ma=j e9te/rouj . The phrase may be, as it is given
above, a delicate expression of difference, or it may perhaps be an elegant
redundancy, like the French à nous autres . Others read, kai\ h9ma=j kai\
e9te/rouj .

76: The reading in the text gives, ou0 lo/gwn e0gkratei=j kai\ e0pisth/monaj
tw=n peri\ o9rmw=n, tw=n de\ o9rmw=n au0tw=n' e0pi\ ta\ e@rga kai\ logouj a@gxwn
, etc. Others would arrange the whole passage differently, thus: peri\ o9rmw=n,
tw=n dw\ o9rmw=n au0tw=n e0!i\ ta\ e@rga kai\ tou\j lo/gouj a@gxwn. Kai , etc.
Hence Sirmondus renders it, a motibus ipsis ad opera etiam sermones , reading
also a@gwn apparently. Rhodomanus gives, impulsionum ipsarum ad opera et verba
ignavi et negligentes , reading evidently a/rgw=n . Bengel solves the difficulty
by taking the first clause as equivalent to ou0 logwn e0gkratei=j kai
e/pioth/monaj ... au0tw=n tw=n ormw_n e\gkratei=j kai\ episth/monaj . We have
adopted this as the most evident sense. Thus a@gxwn is retained unchanged, and
is taken as a parallel to the following participle e0pife/rwn , and as bearing,
therefore, a meaning something like that of a0nagka/zwn . See Bengel's note in
Migne.

77: qewri/a .

78: dia\ th\n i0diopragi/an th=j yuxh=j , perhaps just "the private life."

79: e9autoi=j te kai\ toi=j prosiou=sin .

80: The text is, to\ pro\j e9auth\n ei\nai . Migne proposes either to read
e0autou/j , or to supply th\n yuxh/n .

81: o= dh\ kai\ daimo/nwn tw|= mantikwta/w| a0natiqetai .

82: swfrosu/nhn, sw/an tina\ fro/nhsin , an etymological play.

83: e0pithdeu/sesin .

84: The text is, ou0de\ tw|= tuxei=n . Migne suggests ou0de/ tw|= qe/mij tuxei=n
= nor is it legitimate for any one to attain them.

85: The text is, u9pomonh=j h9mw=n . Vossius and others omit the h9mw=n . The
Stuttgart editor gives this note: "It does not appear that this should be
connected by apposition with a0ndrei/aj (manliness). But Gregory, after the four
virtues which philosophers define as cardinal , adds two which are properly
Christian , viz., patience , and that which is the hinge of all- piety. "

86: The word is proh/goron . It may be, as the Latin version puts it familiaris
, one in fellowship with God.

87: e0comoiw/qhti proselqei=n . Others read e0comoiwqe/nta proselqei=n .

88: mhde\n e0kpoioume/nouj . Casaubon marks this as a phrase taken from law, and
equivalent to, nihil alienum a nobis ducentes .

89: The text is, h\j oi@ontai . We render with Bengel. The Latin Interpreter
makes it = Even those who frequent the temples do not deem it consistent with
religion to touch anything at all profane.

90: [The ultimate subjugation of Latin theology by Aristotelian philosophy, is a
deplorable instance of what is here hinted at, and what Hippolytus has worked
out. Compare Col. ii. 8.]

91: The text is, ou0k a@llhn tina: (ei0 t' a0lhqe\j ei0pei=n) e@xwn h@ th\n
pro\j th=j filosofi/aj e0pi\ ta/de ta\ do/gmata a@logon o9rmh/n' kai koi/sin w\n
oi@etai a0lhqw=n (mh\ para/docon ei0pei=n h|\) ou0k a@llhn h@ th\n a@kriton
tu/xhn . Vossius would read, pro\j th\n filosofi/an kai\ e0pi\ ta/de ta\
do/gmata . Migne makes it = nulla ei erat alia sententia (si verum est dicendum)
nisi caecus ille stimulus quo ante philosophiae studium in ista actus erat
placita: neque aliud judicium corum quae vera putaret (ne mirum sit dictu) nisi
fortunae temeritas. Bengel would read, pro\ th=j filosofiaj .

92: The text is, e0pei\ kai\ a0boh/qhtoj, e0autin xarisa/menoj kai\
e0kdexo/menoj ei/kh= w@sper ermaion, toi=j prokatalabou=sin au0to\n lo/goij. .
Bengel proposes e0ndexo/menon ... e@rmaion , as = lucrum insperatum .

93: kaqarw|= - e@rkei . Sirmondus gives, puro campo . Rhodomanus, reading a0e/oi
, gives puro aëre. Bengel takes e@rkoj , septum , as derivatively = domus,
fundus, regio septis munita.

94: lo/goj .

95: The text is, ei@ tij e@ih kat' au0tw=n tw=nde/ tinwn filoso/fwn . Bengel
suggests katantw=n .

96: [Beautiful testimony to the worth and character of Origen! After St.
Bernard, who thought he was scriptural, but was blinded by the Decretals (no
fault in him ), Scripture and testimony (as defined to be the rule of faith by
Tertullian and Vincent) ceased to govern in the West; and by syllogisms (see
vol. v. p. 100) the Scholastic system was built up. This became the creed of a
new church organization created at Trent, all the definitions of which are part
of said creed. Thus the "Roman-Catholic Church" (so called when created) is a
new creation (of A.D. 1564), in doctrine ever innovating , which has the least
claim to antiquity of any Church pretending to Apostolic origin.] 97:
u9pofhteu/wn .

98: u9phxw=n .

99: Isa. xxii. 22; Rev. iii. 7. [All these citations of the Scriptures should be
noted, but specially those which prove the general reception of the Apocalypse
in the East.] 100: [A noble sentence. Eph iii. 8,9.] 101: The text gives w/j
a/kou/swsin with Voss. and Bengel. The Paris editor gives a0kou/ousin .

102: a@r0r9hton .

103: Barbarian.

104: swmatotrofei=n paxunome/nouj .

105: a0peiqei=n . Bengel and Hoeschelius read a0pwlei=n , withdraw.

106: a9plou=j a0ra/ tij ei\nai neno/mistai a0ndri profh/th| . Migne refers us to
Ps. xvii.

107: Ps. cxxxvii.

108: 2 Kings xxiv., xxv.

109: qeolo/gouj , used probably of the prophets here-namely of Ezekiel, Daniel,
and others carried into exile with the people. On this usage, see Suicer's
Thesaurus , under the word qeolo/goj , where from the pseudo-Areopagite
Dionysius he cites the sentence, twn qeolo/gwn ei\j, o9 Zaxariaj, and again,
eteroj tw=n qeolo/gwn 9Iezekih/l .

110: The text is, kai\ fw=j to\ h9liako\n kai\to\ dehneke\j, h9me/raj u@per
h9mw=n prosomilou/ntwn toi=j qei/oj musthri/oij kai\ nukto\j w\n e0n h9me/ra
ei\de/ te kai\ e@pracen h\ yuxh\ tai=j fantasiaij katexome/nwn . Bengel proposes
u@par for u@ter , so as to keep the antithesis between h9me/raj u@par and
nukto\j fantasi/aij ; and taking h9me/raj and nukto/j as temporal genitives, he
renders the whole thus: cum interdiu, per visa, divinis aderamus sacramentis: et
noctu earum rerum, quas viderat de die atque egerat anima, imaginibus
detinebamur.

111: ["In dreams I still renew the rites," etc.-William Croswell.]

112: au0lei=n . The Jews had the harp, and so the word ya/llein is used of them
in the preceding. But here, in speaking of himself, Gregory adopts the term
ou@te au0leisn , ne tibia quidem canere. Bengel supposes that the verb is
changed in order to convey the idea, that while the Jews only had to give up the
use of instruments expressive of joyful feeling, Gregory feared he would himself
be unable to play even on those of a mournful tone,-for in ancient times the
pipe or flute was chiefly appropriated to strains of grief and sadness.

113: [He was still proposing for himself a life of worldly occupation. Here turn
to Origen's counsel,-a sort of reply to this Orations,-vol. iv. p. 393, and
Cave's Lives , etc., vol. i. p. 400.]

114: The text is, diefqarme/naj me\n th|= duna/mei, h\ a0ka/rpw| h@ kakoka/rpw|
tini\, mh\ kai\ prosdiatiqarhsome/nh de\ par' h9mw=n , etc. Bengel reads me/n
toi for me\n th|9 , and takes mh\ kai as = utinam ne.

115: paradi/dou kai0 paratiqeso .

116: e0mba/llonta h0mi=n to\n qei=on au0tou=, paidagwgo\n a@riston e0so/menon .
The Latin version makes the e0so/menon refer to the fo/bon : divinumque nobis
timorem suum, optimum paedagogum immittens , = and inspiring with the godly fear
of Himself as our choicest guide.

117: ou0 ga0r e0n th= meta sou= e0leuqeri/a kai\ a0pelqo/ntej u\pakou/somen
au0tw|=\ . Bengel paraphrases it thus: hac libertate quae tecum est carebo
digressus; quare vereor ut Deo posthac paream, ni timore saltem munitus fuero.
[He may probably have been only a catechumen at this period. This peroration
favours the suspicion.]


========================================================================
Source: https://sermonindex.net/books/writings-gregory-of-neocaesarea/
========================================================================