YEAR OF OUR LORD MCCLXX. NICEPHORUS CHUMNUS PREFECT OF THE CANICLEON AFTER ASSUMING THE RELIGIOUS HABIT OF LIFE NATHANAEL THE MONK NOTICE.
(Fabric. Biblioth. Gr. ed. Harles, t. VII, p. 673.)A Nicephorus Chumnus, prefect of the canicleo, whose daughter Irene married John Palaiologos, who later became emperor from the year 1295. See Cangius’s *Families of Byzantium*, p. 236. To the same Chumnus, having become a monk at the end of his life, the name Nathanael was given, as Jo. Boivinus conjectures in his notes on Gregoras, p. 761, and as Cangius affirms in his notes on Zonaras, p. 148. Concerning his unpublished writings, see, if you wish, Cave, at the year 1320 [in the appendix, p. 24, of the Basil edition; add above concerning the writings of Nicephorus Gregoras which Boivinus, tom. IV of that Gregoras, n. 7, was about to add among the excerpts, or produced in the notes]. The same Boivinus, on p. 759, cites a funeral oration on Theoleptos, metropolitan of Philadelphia. Other works of this Chumnus are on pages 751, 733, 754 seq., 761, 763, etc. *Casauboniana*, p. 21: Among the manuscripts of the royal library, one is inscribed "Nathanael the monk, who is also Chumnus," who lived in Constantinople 300 years ago. In it is contained an oration sent to the Thessalonians and various epistles, from which it appears that this Nathanael was a second Job, to whom so many adversities happened that it can hardly be told. He is an author worthy to be read even for the extreme piety in his writings. "There is," says Cangius, "in the royal library a codex, 751, containing various short works and epistles of Nicephorus Chumnus, among which are two consolatory discourses, of which one is written to the emperor concerning the death of the Despot, his son, and the other to the same Chumnus's daughter, the empress (βασίλισσαν), concerning her widowhood, whose year this was."
B In codex 2105 of the public library of Paris, according to the catalogue of codices II, page 444 sq., are Nicephorus Chumnus’s short works, n. 30: on the nature of the world; on primary and simple bodies; that the earth, since it is in the middle, has nothing beneath it; that matter is before bodies, and forms are not separate, but these very things consist together; various questions against Plotinus concerning the rational soul, where it is argued concerning metempsychosis, concerning beasts, whether they are endowed with intellect or not, and concerning the resurrection of bodies and other things; concerning the sensitive and vegetative soul; that it is not impossible, even according to physical reasons, that water was placed in the firmament, then, when the orb of the world was created, and that it is there and remains perpetually; concerning the nature of the air, concerning hail, concerning winds and their oblique motion, against the ancient philosophers, who disputed otherwise about that matter; concerning the holy transfiguration of Christ; concerning the assumption of the Blessed Virgin, or the sanction of that same feast of the assumption, by which it is decreed that that feast is to be continued through an entire month, according to the custom of the ancients; counsel to the Thessalonians concerning justice, and a eulogy of the city of Thessalonica; an imperial sanction against those who do injury, and concerning compelling judges by oath; an oration in praise of the emperor Andronicus the senior; and other short works together with various epistles to various people. Various epistles of Nicephorus Chumnus are also in codex 1000, n. 13. In codex 3010, n. 25–27, exist his unpublished orations: 1) in praise of Andronicus Palaiologos; 2) on the transfiguration of the Lord; 3) a sanction, where it is decreed that the feast of the nativity of the Lord should be celebrated not only for one day, but for an entire month. In the Venetian Marcian codex, which contains the works of Macarius Chrysocephalus (concerning which codex and the author Macarius, Villoison discourses copiously and diligently in *Anecdota Graeca*, tom. II, p. 4 sqq.), there are, on page 185, right side, those of the *kanikleios* Chumnus. But Villoison, in the cited book, page 72, teaches that the *epi tou kanikleiou*, who is also called by Byzantine writers passim the *kanikleios*, or the *kaniklis*, or the *kanikleiōn*, was the one who presided over the *kanikleion* or the emperor’s inkstand, because the vessel, called the *kanikion*, was supported by fictitious little dogs. In the same codex, p. 185, reverse side, are Chumnus’s unpublished "Laconian" epistles, and Villoison gave a specimen of them in the same place. Among the epistles of Gregory Cyprius are some to Nicephorus Chumnus the quaestor, and to Theodorus Muzalon, successor of the grand logothete, in the Caesar codex.
(1) Most have seen the light in Boissonade’s *Anecdota*, except for the one on beauty, which Creuzer had already edited with Plotinus. Boissonade criticizes Nicephorus for the reason that he speaks for the most part like an ecclesiastical preacher.
sixteenth (a), in Labbe, p. 295. *Bibl. novæ mss.*, for the name Nathanael Chrommus, one must substitute Chumnus, where he reports these titles of his minor works: *On Primary and Simple Bodies*. Nothing is lower than the earth, since it itself is in the center. Neither matter before bodies, nor species or ideas apart from bodies, but all things together. *Antitheticus against Plotinus*; that souls do not exist before bodies. *On the Nutritive and Sensitive Soul*. That it is not impossible, nor contrary to physical reasons, that waters exist above the heavens. *On the Air*, and why, although it is hot by nature, it is felt as cold when it is stirred, and on hail and winds. *Against the ancient philosophers on the same subject*. *On the Transfiguration of Christ*. *A ruling*, that the feast of Our Lord’s Nativity should be celebrated not only on one day, but throughout the whole month. *Symbuleuticus on justice to the Thessalonians*, and an encomium of the city. *By imperial decree*, that judges be bound by oath to perform their office holy. *Encomium to the emperor*. *A complaint against Niphon* for the poorly administered province of his patriarchate. *Funeral oration on Theoleptus*, metropolitan of Philadelphia. *Refutation of the Latins' dogma* on the procession of the Holy Spirit. *On ordering one’s will* better while still in good health than when illness is pressing. *To the bishop of Philadelphia* on the miracle at Cana. *To the same* on the petition of Elisha from Elijah. *To the empress’s daughter* on her widowhood. *To the emperor* on the death of his son, the Despot; *Consolation in the calamity of a friend*. *On charity toward one’s neighbor*, and that all things must be renounced in order to follow Christ, and on the paternal blessing which Jacob stole, at his mother’s persuasion. *Chrysobull* on a certain consultation of the empress. *Chrysobull* to the Kral of Serbia. *Chrysobull* on reconciling monks who had defected. *On applying judgment and choosing a mode of expression*. *On those who took it ill* that he had rebuked certain unskilled rhetoricians. *Chrysobull* on the union of the monastery of Galesion and that of the Holy Resurrection. *172 Letters*. Possevinus testifies that there exists in the Vatican a work of Nicephorus Chumnus *on prayer, judgment, and action, and what it is fitting to embrace or avoid in them*. There were also Georgius Chumnus, and Joannes Chumnus, and Michael Chumnus, of whom elsewhere. — *Vind.* 67. V. Lambec. *Comm.* VIII, p. 1069 and 1072 sq. *An address of a certain pretor Nicephorus; beginning: Tis anösel tas dynastelas*, in cod. 131 Barocc. Oxon., in which codex there are also several more minor works of Nicephorus Blemmydes. HARL. [Nicephorus Apelastus, bishop of the city of Belebugd, at the end of Cod. Coisl. 72, which contains the 88th homily of John Chrysostom, declares himself to have been the scribe of the codex, in the year 6580 (that is, in the year of Christ 1072). HARL.]
NICEPHORUS CHUMNUS ANTITHETICUS AGAINST PLOTINUS ON THE SOUL
(Under the name of the monk Nathanael, Frid. Creuzer edited it in Greek after Plotinus's book *On the Beautiful*, Heidelberg, 1814. We have added our own translation).
MONITUM.
Fabricius, *Bibl. Gr.* vol. V, p. 688, note *u*, ed. Harl., instructed by Lambecius, *Catalog. bibl. Cæs. Vindob.* lib. VII, p. 553 Kollar., reports that there exists in the Imperial Vienna Library an unedited manuscript booklet by an anonymous author, which is inscribed: *Antitheticus against Plotinus*. My dear Hartmann, whose goodwill I had proven in other matters as well, had procured a transcript of this minor work for me at my request. Therefore, I handled it in my hands, and I made use of its Plotinian sentiments and words when the opportunity for annotation arose, using this very designation of "Anonymous," because the Viennese lemma contained nothing else by way of mention. I learned too late
that it exists in Vatican codex no. 1374, and the learned interpreter of its lemma, Hieronymus Amati, taught me better things B about this book, or rather, about its lemma. It stands thus: *Toū σοφωτάτου ἐπὶ τοῦ κανικλείου, ἀντιθετικὸς πρὸς Πλωτῖνον κ. τ. λ.* Now Amati, having recognized in the codex the hand of Scipio Carteromachus, a man otherwise learned (whose *Life* Ciampius, a Pisan professor, is about to publish with the addition of Amati’s observations), ingeniously suspected that he had corrected it poorly and transcribed those *ἐπισ.* etc. no better; they should rather be read *ἐπὶ τοῦ κανικλείου*. This same learned man, knowing that these three men enjoyed that dignity—John Scylitzes, Leo the Magister, and John Camaterus—had persuaded himself, and almost persuaded me, that this little work against Plotinus belonged to one or another of them. It was troublesome for that dignity of "prefect of the inkstand" to be restricted to such a small number of men. Wherefore I thought it ought to be amplified, and if that adversary of Plotinus had to be summoned by me, I summoned him as an "Anonymous," meanwhile looking around to see if perhaps more from the ranks of the *kanikleioi* might offer themselves to me from elsewhere. One presented himself in Villoison’s *Anecdota*, vol. II, p. 72, and this is the very man I was indeed seeking. To be sure, Villoison there lists a little work of the Marcian codex distinguished by this title: *Ἐκ τῶν ἐπιστολῶν τοῦ ἐπὶ τοῦ κανικλείου τοῦ Χούμνου*, and no one else attacked Plotinus; and Amati afterwards clearly unearthed the same name from Vat. cod. no. 112. For there exists there another little work with this title: *Τοῦ σοφωτάτου ἐπὶ τοῦ κανικλείου* (a second hand added *κυροῦ Νικηφόρου τοῦ Χούμνου*) *περὶ λόγον κρίσεως καὶ ἐργασίας*. What more do you ask? It is Nicephorus Chumnus, the same man "who, having become a monk and called Nathanael, was prefect of the inkstand, and powerful in affairs under Andronicus the Elder, whose daughter Irene married John Palæologus, who afterward became emperor in the year of Christ 1295." In the Royal Parisian and Colbertine codices, his various little works and a number of letters are inscribed thus: *Τοῦ παρακοιμωμένου τοῦ Χούμνου*, and then *τοῦ Θεσσαλονίκης*, whence the man's homeland is known. And from the letters of Nicephorus himself, Isaac Casaubon reports C that "it appears he was that other Job, to whom so many adversities happened that they can scarcely be told." The same great man there praises his piety and "says he is worthy to be read." Du Cange, who diligently busied himself with his works, also calls him eloquent. There are quite many of them, among these a consolation to the *Basilissa*, that is, to the daughter of the empress, concerning her widowhood; others likewise of various subjects, whether civil or pertaining to the sacred Christian discipline, and also philosophical; of which genre this one against Plotinus is. For not only in the catalogue of the Royal Parisian library, but also by Labbe (*Bibl. nov. mss.*, p. 295), that writing is distinctly attributed to this Nicephorus Chumnus. He indeed, in the notice of codex no. 2104, has it thus: "Various questions against Plotinus concerning the rational soul, where it is argued concerning metempsychosis, concerning beasts, whether they are endowed with intellect or not, concerning the resurrection of bodies, and other things." Labbe, however, says: "Antirrheticus against Plotinus; that souls do not exist prior to bodies." If, therefore, the Fabrician Library had provided the service it ought to have provided, we could have reached by a shortcut that to which one had to go by detours, and where I perhaps would never have arrived without a guide of this kind, such as Amati proved himself to be. But in that library, and in other respects most worthy of praise, I could scarcely find other sufficiently suitable work; the narration of which would be long. Now this one thing this note intended: that in volume five, p. 688, Harles’ note *w*, for "Anonymous" the name Nathanael should be put. There is no reason for me to laboriously pursue the virtues and vices of the little book. It is already clear to everyone, and the more learned will understand even without being told. This is certain: the role of the philosopher is sufficiently maintained in this way by a Christian man, who knows how to conduct his matter by reason alone, without the use of the authority of the sacred books. D However, Nicephorus touches Plato no less than Plotinus. Which he himself also seems to have sensed. For although in the exordium he had professed that Plotinus had been asked of him, in the conclusion, however, he put these words: *Ἡμεῖς ἐξ ἀντιθέσεως ταῦτα πρὸς Πλάτωνα καὶ Πλωτῖνον*. Moreover, that little work is inscribed both in the Viennese book and in the Vatican as *Ἀντιθετικός*, and this very thing which we just now cited from the end of the little book can support this title, and no less that which is such that the *antitheta* and *antithethikoi logoi* of the rhetoricians are more frequently mentioned, although not, for the most part, in the same significance: nevertheless, from this genre of writers, to which this Nathanael ought to be aggregated, the name *antirrhetikon* is, so far as I know, more frequented. Thus, to use this as an example, the books of Josephus against Apion are inscribed in some codices as *antirrhetika*, and that work of Eusebius of Cæsarea against Hierocles is exhibited on the parchment part with this title: *Ἀντιῤῥητικὸς πρὸς τὰ Ἱεροκλέους*.
Ἱεροκλέους*. And if you seek examples from the latest age which Nicephorus, Patriarch of Constantinople, and likewise Gregoras composed against dissenters, these are each called by the name of *Antirrhetica*. Now, since the Antirrhetic codices of Labbe also bear the title on this very work, I for my part have held this to be the more authentic. I have not wished to change it, as I am about to follow the Viennese and Vatican examples.
Regarding the subject matter of the dispute, it was provided primarily by two of Plotinus’s books: one, *Περὶ τοῦ εἰληχότος ἡμᾶς δαίμονος* (On the spirit allotted to us), Enn. III, 4, p. 284 A; the other, *Περὶ ἀπορίων ψυχῆς* (On the difficulties of the soul), Enn. IV, 3, p. 381–389, in which Plotinus expounds his opinion on metempsychosis. That he favored this philosopher, Augustine explicitly testifies in *De civ. Dei*, X, 30, p. 266 A. For he says thus: "It is most certain that Plato wrote that the souls of men revolve after death even into the bodies of beasts. This opinion was held by Plotinus, the pupil of Porphyry; yet it rightly displeased Porphyry." Concerning this passage, consult Wyttenbach *ad Phædon.*, p. 211, and add what the same man has copiously expounded about this doctrine of the philosophers. For these very things, specifically, pertain to the *Phædo* (see p. 42, 90 sqq., ed. Wytt.); yet other dialogues of Plato must be applied, for instance those in which the tenet of A *anamnesis* (recollection) is discussed. I will add from the papers of Amatius that there is to be found in Vatican codex no. 112 a dialogue by the same Nicephorus, as it seems (for it lacks the author's name), of a similar argument, by which that tenet of Plato concerning the soul is impugned, as is apparent from these words: "It is therefore first of all—a point in which I think (Plato) particularly delights in his finding—that he believes that even before it partakes of a body, the soul exists; secondly, that the living must come from the dead... then saying further that it may chance [to belong] to each one; and that we are in a certain prison; and that there is a necessity of migrating into many bodies, like water flowing from vessel to vessel; for my part, I think that the investigation concerning [the soul's] pre-existence ought to be made first. But he seems to exert himself most on this: on the claim that to learn is to recollect." As for what remains, just as Ammianus Marcellinus mentioned that book of his *On the Spirit* near the time of Plotinus, so in the final age of the Byzantines these tenets of Plotinus had not yet completely faded away, and the Antirrhetic of Nathanael here will be able to teach one [the truth of] this.
ANTITHETICUS AGAINST PLOTINUS
ON THE SOUL
B An antitheticus against Plotinus; that souls do not exist before bodies, nor migrate from some into others, but that neither is there intellect in brute animals, nor will there ever be. However, he uses many demonstrations against that point, namely that notions are recollections; from which dogma it is confirmed for Plotinus, and before him for Plato, that souls exist before bodies. And he argues concerning the resurrection of dead bodies, and he C shows this by many arguments both from the very propositions of Plato concerning the reviviscence of souls, and that the enjoyment of goods always remaining... D of the bodies do the souls pre-exist, nor do they migrate from some into others, but neither in the irrational is there intellect, nor would there ever be. But he also uses proofs to meet that point, that the sciences are recollections; from which dogma it is established for Plotinus himself and before him for Plato that souls exist before bodies; and concerning the resurrection of dead bodies he struggles, and shows this by other necessities; and from the very things of Plato concerning...
A the resurrection of souls and the enjoyment of goods that remain forever, and the punishment of souls and bodies together that never ends.
1. I am undertaking this present study against Plotinus and his arguments concerning the incorruptible soul. For that the mind in us is simple and incomposite, and subsistent in itself, and having life in itself, and indeed superior to all corruption and every destruction—this seems true both to him and to the truth, and to me as well, and if any other should wish to inquire rightly, and apply a sincere mind to all these things which are well demonstrated in the works of Plotinus. For how could a mind exist from composition, and from certain parts coming together? For if it consists from those things of which all things consist—I mean from simple and primary bodies—yet none of these thinks. From things incapable of thought, then, how could a mind come to be, or how could it reach out towards those things which in no way or manner it B strives for—I mean the intelligible things and those above them—if it has been generated from those things? But if the soul that lives and thinks consists of other bodies besides these being joined together, if they be more gross and dreg-like, it is absurd for the mind to consist of such things; and a mind possessed of intellect would be even more foolish, since matter, and especially such gross matter, is devoid of all thought. But if it consists of simpler things, and those which are born as the first, as it were, principles of other things—yet there are not, nor can there be found, any things simpler, not even in the conceptions of the four from which all other things originate. And indeed, a mind and the soul which is according to it is not a composite of matter and form, so that it might not be composed of simples, but be a simple body, devoid of any other composition. But in this hypothesis, one cannot posit matter as capable of thinking, so long as it is nothing but matter and only matter; nor is it form, which C is only form and considered only as form, so that from non-thinking things a mind would be made, which we first flee from saying as absurd and demented. Therefore, a living and thinking soul is far from being a certain body, and is far from being formed by a certain composition. And indeed Plotinus D
and anyone who, whether before him or after him, has rightly and beautifully known its nature, know it to be simple, and say that it is neither according to body nor according to composition, but something else besides these, which admits of no dissolution or corruption. Now, as to the fact that he produces these very souls—as I have said—before bodies, and places them on high, and attaches them to the First and Sole-Existent and One Alone and Immovable, and then drags them from thence and casts them down and thrusts them into bodies, and transfers them from one to another, and from better and more genuine states to worse ones that are not at all fitting for them, and commands them to wander much hither and thither—the mind that contemplates much suffers many such grievous things from this lack of understanding, which do not even happen to a soul totally devoid of intelligence; indeed, I am ashamed to say that this was not well decreed by the good Plotinus. Or did he perhaps turn to this doctrine out of a certain necessity, and endure to say this because he saw no other way to escape the force and the difficulty from which he could not excuse himself? For if it is because, when the soul is born together with the bodies that participate in life, it so happens that it dissolves along with them and undergoes corruption, and thus, although immortal, it is not immortal—well, not even those things undergo this, namely the first and simple elements of which other bodies consist. For they remain, and even when migrating, they subsist in other things. Whither, then, when the body and life are dissolved, does each of them go? Surely to that which is its own and congeneric, and toward which it tends while established in the composite body. And that it desires that, and always looks and tends toward it, is manifest, inasmuch as even while the bodies are still living, it flows out and pours itself forth, and, as we have said, goes to its congeneric, with an element of the same kind succeeding into its place and filling this spot, so that the animal participating in it may remain as long as it is both naturally suited to live and able to flee death. If, therefore, this is so—and it is certainly so—and the simple bodies contained in composite ones remain and are not corrupted when they are released from there, what prevents the mind, which by nature suffers nothing—when it is born with these living bodies as it seemed good to the First Principle and Creator, and then released from them—from remaining incorruptible and immortal? But if you do not want this, surely, fearing that the immortal may be brought into life along with the mortal, and the incorruptible along with the corruptible, you introduce this law out of necessity—that the soul pre-exists the body D and that you say it has life from itself alone, and imparts it to the bodies—I wish to inquire into this matter more accurately.
A 2. What is this life of which the soul is the provider? Is it that same life which is always present to the soul itself and without pain, or is it another, distinct from this, which you say is the one imparted by the soul to the body? For if the soul imparts its own life, and that life is immortal, then the bodies that have shared in it must also live for an equal and eternal length of time. But if there is one life for the soul and another simply for living creatures, and the latter is bound up with their corruption, while the life of the soul is altogether indestructible, how can it impart to bodies a form of life which is not its own? And yet, if even this were possible, and the immortal soul that is living is evidently the creator of corruptible life, why, when it descends into bodies—and it came down precisely to make them live and to adorn them—did it not impart the better form of soul, but rather the inferior one? You will surely say, either out of envy, or because it could not produce the better and superior, but only the lesser and worse. But if the former, how can that be, since this [soul] is good and wishes to bestow some good things upon those subjects for which it has a concern, not by any necessity or violence, but in order to do them good and make them live—how could it be envious and prune and constrict their life? But if you say it is because it was not in the power of the soul itself, which is immortal and ever-living, to adjust an equal length of life to others, consider whether this might not be equally unfitting to say regarding it. For if it is not in its nature to impart its own life, how is it in its nature to impart that of another—to say nothing of the contrary, seeing that the corruptible and the incorruptible, the immortal and the mortal, are contraries? And why, when it determined it, did it allot a short time of living to some, and to others a longer one? B For if it measures out life precisely by looking to virtue and vice (16), allotting a longer life to those who choose the better course, so that they may accomplish more good works, and cutting short the race of those who run toward the worse, thereby shortening the span of their life-time—with both the one group and the other having their own distinct disposition and movement, separate from the motion of the soul—yet we see many people, even very bad ones, living for a long time, while many who are devoted to virtue cease both from life and from their zeal for the good in a very short time. We also see those who have not yet reached maturity, knowing nothing of virtue or vice, departing this life prematurely; and here the reason for this cause is by no means infallible. But to which shall we say virtue or vice belongs: the soul or the body? For it is either of both, or of one of these. But if it belongs to one, it will be of the soul, since it is from there that all movements toward good and evil proceed. C But if it is of both, and thus they will belong primarily to the soul, which...
uses the body as a kind of instrument. Thus, whether the love of virtue and the good possesses it, which clearly enters into action through the body, it will not cast off the body, through which it also fulfills love and desire. As for this, one might say the same of the soul that delights in baser things; for what would it choose, or for what reason would it despise what was previously its instrument, and one well-suited for what it willed? And for what cause would it exchange that for a worse one, and that again for another, which is not better, but indeed for the most part useless—if, from the bodies of men it is clothed in the nature of animals, and is surrounded by it, and from these again moves on to plants, and is bound to these with chains tighter than the former ones, as if rooted in them, and has no way to depart thence easily, but only after a long time and with difficulty is freed? I do not know what better thing it has accomplished by being placed in such circumstances, whether held by the love of the good, or preferring evil or evil things. And indeed one form of the soul is that which is subject to flux and corruption, in which we live, while the other is that properly according to which we live honestly as human beings; and from this it is manifest: for if our whole life hangs upon the mind itself and the soul that is according to the mind, whence come deaths to us, when the mind does not suffer and is pure, and persists both before our animal life and in the animal itself, B and after its dissolution? Whence, while it is with us and remains and can and wills to sustain our life, does it happen that some parts of us die and lose life, while other living parts remain? For it was necessary that either we should live entirely, since the very thing that provided and held our life had suffered nothing, or else we should have perished entirely, because this [mind] had obviously failed and departed. For it is not, it is not possible even to say that it is divided and cut up among the parts of the body, and by doing so makes them alive—wherefore, from whatever parts it would depart, withdrawing into itself, it would leave those dead, while to those in which it remained, life itself would also remain. For, being simple and participating neither in magnitude nor in any body, how could it be divided? And what, moreover, would one who is impassible, indivisible, and devoid of parts suffer to cause it to go off into contractions and compressions, and not suffer this in its whole self, but by parts, C which it had adapted to the dead parts of the body? But it is absurd to think and say these things regarding the mind, which is devoid of parts and entirely impassible. Now, regarding that which we called the flowing and corruptible soul, nothing prevents this, since it is indeed divided, and in this way it invades all parts of the body, carried by a certain vital spirit, and with it penetrates everywhere.
A And there it terminates, wherever that also terminates. If any of the parts should suffer, and that suffering should halt the motion of the spirit and the passage of the soul to that place, this part is indeed deadened, having been abandoned by that which imparts life, and being no longer able to share in it; and if the suffering falls upon that portion of the body which holds the principle, and this is the spirit, which is the vehicle of the vital soul, the entire life is immediately corrupted and ceases, since this life is corruptible, as we have assumed and it has already been demonstrated. We do not therefore live simply according to intellect, but we live well by thinking. It is better to say of the corruptible soul that this life also is corruptible; but intellect, and the soul and life according to it, which are of a nature to remain with this harmony in the body harmonized to it, remain while it lasts, but when it is dissolved, the intellect itself is also released, suffering nothing, since it is simple and impassible, and it does not migrate again to other bodies, neither to those of the same genus as the first from which it issued, nor to others of certain irrational beasts, which in no way pertain to it. For it loves none of these; and why should it love, since none of them is suited to an intellect that might wish to adapt itself to these dispositions, neither for virtue nor for vice? For what could an intellect do that was its own, if it had fallen into the nature of irrational creatures and were dwelling therein? It is impossible to find among them any organ of a soul possessing intellect and reason, which might serve its will. And how could it go to plants? Or so that it might nourish them and make them grow? But an unextended and intelligent soul neither shares in any of these things nor loves them. Whence, then, comes life to plants from elsewhere? This is another species of soul, neither the same, nor consonant with animals capable of sensation, nor with those participating in intellect. And thus, if you wish to divide all soul and life into these three — namely, intellect, sense, and that which is observed in plants — you would divide it correctly. And the whole discourse concerning the soul holds to this manner. Nor is it strange if, just as they communicate with one another and retain the name of soul, so we may think of them as first, second, and third; and that some communicate with each other immediately, but others B mediately, through those that are far away and not close to them themselves. For the intelligent soul is the first; not, however, by the very fact that it is a soul — since in this respect one is not more and another less, for all are equally souls — but because it is simple and always lives and thinks, and pertains to the first principle and the natures and intellects that are around it. The second, however, is sense and the soul that is according to it, because also C D
it is capable of the first, and is able to be mixed with it, and to be blended together, and to operate with it. A A third must be posited, capable of nutrition alone. [(22)] But if there is also another medium between sense and this nutritive part itself—imperfect indeed regarding sense and having little of it, but in all other respects like plants—then it makes the nature of sensible things have some communion with the life of those that merely grow and are nourished, and not be entirely incommunicable. Let this, then, be posited and called a fourth species of soul; and thus, in this way, one soul attached to another 67—the one above descending to the one completely below, through the participation and communion of those that follow in order, and the latter again ascending from below to the first, clinging to the intermediates and being carried upward through them, so that this whole world, partaking of motion and life, consenting with itself, looks upward, in no way severed from the first cause [(23)], nor having dissolved the love or desire toward it in any respect, with all such parts seeking that first and only truly existing one.
3. Regarding the soul and its species, it has been said—both that one part of them is intelligent, simple, and immortal 71, and that the others have come into being from composition and are subject to corruption, flux, and dissolution; furthermore, that neither the intellect B in the animal part of man pre-existed that animal, nor the animal that soul, but that these are together. If, however, you do not wish for the mortal and the immortal to have been generated at once from one and the same principle and motion, but rather from two, it must be admitted that either intellect pre-exists, or it does not exist in a mortal animal (for the corruptible must have one principle and cause, and the incorruptible another). We must, therefore, state what seems to us regarding this. C We see grass, and stalks, and wheat; but neither is the grass a stalk, nor the stalk wheat. Is the wheat, therefore, before the stalk, or the stalk before the grass, or are these together? For if the wheat is before the rest, whence did it arise, and from what other principle and cause than from those from which the others did? If, however, those are before the wheat, what other cause did they have, different from that which produced the wheat? And in a word, if not those, how this? For it is from them; but if not this, how those? For they are from it. And we see both of these together, the wheat before them and them before the wheat. D
A And if even one of these were not corruptible and the other incorruptible, nor would we say that the mind and the animal are as it were wheat and chaff; but that nothing in nature is difficult, and much less so for its Creator, nor laborious to produce one thing and another from a single motion and cause, as has been said, and for them to be at the same time. Nor is one of them more prior than the other, but they are together. And just as some things are longer-lived, as the wheat survives longer than the herb and the stalk, while others do not subsist for as long a time, so too have the corruptible and the incorruptible been made together. For just as a certain power resides in the seed of the wheat, which brings to perfection all things that proceed from it, being at first invisible and then becoming manifest through its own productions, so too is there a power in the first principle and cause of the animal, which is revealed to all things that proceed from it. And while these things subsist in it in potentiality, B neither are they themselves manifest, nor is the power manifest; but when they are produced into effect, then those things are manifest, and the power that contains them, hiding itself. And it produces, from the mortal part alone, only a mortal animal, but from that which is partly mortal and partly immortal, it produces an animal that is at once mortal and immortal.
4. That intellect is in man, existing by itself C and never perishing, and that our nature possesses this in superiority to the nature of other irrational animals, is evident from their operations. For some live by sense and imagination alone—which you might call a certain imperfect intellect, having a close kinship with the perfect intellect, and using forms that tend toward it, yet being altogether inferior to its nature and operation. And whatever the irrational animals understand, they understand according to it only insofar as is necessary to preserve their nature and for the species to remain, through the concession of the Creator, who, bringing them forth into existence, wills that they should remain and be. And thus their prudence proceeds only as far as finding food and avoiding the dangers and perils that corrupt life. As the works of the bee, and the webs of the spiders, D and the watching of cranes during sleep and their defenses against those who would corrupt and endanger them—
A and indeed certain granaries of ants, and the cutting and dividing of grains to prevent germination, and a dog sated with food hiding the leftovers so that it may have something to eat again if nothing else presents itself—the prudence of senseless animals proceeds even to this extent, but it has no further value, since they cannot think, nor act rationally, nor desire any of those things that are beyond sense-perception, nor exert any effort for or by means of them. But the mind of man is primarily intelligent; it represses the senses, governs them, and empties out all passion and desire. By this method, it possesses a kinship with the intelligible things that are above and are free from all matter. These are the pursuits of him who is properly a man, these are the studies of an intelligent soul, to which no irrational nature ever looks or hastens. B For how could that which merely serves the senses, and cannot in any way be lifted up above them, proceed along the same path as the mind? For the mind alone is joined with intelligible things; no sense-perception reaches them, but remains far away from them, nor does it care, being corruptible, for any of those things that are incorruptible. But the soul, being immortal and not harmed by an irrational life and sense-perception, by what other thing could it be sought with the highest desire, if not by those things that are always existing? In which Plotinus says that souls first exist, but through other movements turned toward other things, they fell from their previous state and where they were, causing some of them to slip when wishing to adorn bodies, and therefore descending lower, yet failing in their purpose and becoming unadorned. But we do not hold this view; however, what we have determined regarding the intelligent soul C itself has already been stated.
5. We must also speak of knowledge, and how it comes to be, for those who know nothing about it, whether the existence of mind is one thing, and the existence of knowledge another. For if it were necessary that where there is life, there must be mind, and where there is mind, there must be knowledge, then if mind were present in all animals, knowledge would also be in them, and geometry, arithmetic
and the ability to know the just and the unjust, the good and the evil, would be present in dogs, cranes, and ants, and the rest of the animals; they would know what a line is and what a point is; they would discuss the theories of triangles and squares, some of them being well-versed in the sciences, and others pertaining to the senses. And many curious matters would occupy them concerning the squaring of circles A and the stars — they would be agape, disparaging food, unwilling to look down, and desiring not to be ignorant of their conjunctions, distances, and what results from these, nor indeed if anything else regarding nature and the things above nature could be found out by mind and reason. And according to this reasoning, the great Plato and Plotinus would not differ at all from dogs, cranes, and ants.
How, moreover, could we say that in them sciences are recollections, when they use only memory, and cannot attain to any recollection? And how would man be distinguished from them, and not be one and the same with them, if whatever defines and constitutes him belonged to them as well? We define and state that only man is capable of mind and knowledge, being rational, and by this we distinguish him from the others. But if man were not the only one among these, but irrational creatures also participated in mind no less, they would also participate in reason, and with good cause—not reason proceeding externally, but present within them. And thus, B the rational would not differ in the least from the irrational, even if we were to say that the mind is one thing, possessing knowledge and that this knowledge is from itself, and that this is the mind within us, while we were to say that the mind in the other animals is such that it can neither think for itself nor be capable of any knowledge. Dividing it thus, we would call the one mind knowledgeable and the creator of knowledge, but the other, which cannot even be taught by the one who is knowledgeable, nor instructed, we would necessarily call such a mind an "un-mind," and everything would be turned upside down. It would be absurd C to posit rational as irrational, and mind as mindless.
But we must go back to the first point, which we said we must investigate: how knowledge, evidently, is generated in those who know nothing at all about it. For perhaps, if it is not from recollection, it would not seem to be from anywhere else; if, therefore, knowledge is nothing other than the recollection of those things which were previously known to the soul, and before the soul was united to bodies; if, after it is united and commingled with bodies, memory is somehow banished D along with it, and the cognition of knowledge, then again the soul returns to that memory and to knowledge.
This A would be a noble thing, and one very much bruited about and powerful for the demonstration of the pre-existence of souls to bodies. But one should not pay much heed to this, as though there were clearly no contradiction in any way. For perhaps if we posited something else, then the very opposite might rightly follow. For since the soul is immortal and always in motion (33), if we conceive of its motions and operations as immortal, we will be conceiving them rightly. What then? Do you wish us to posit that knowledge is a faculty of the soul existing in it from the beginning, or something else added to it later, but before it is united to the body? And what else could this be but thought, and whence would it supervene, since the soul is perfect and its faculties and motions are perfect? But you will be able to say nothing nor demonstrate anything. B If, for instance, thought is a faculty of the soul, and all faculties of the soul—which is always in motion—are immortal, then knowledge, which is thought, will also be a faculty of the soul. We cannot, however, absolutely believe that it is corrupted by forgetfulness, or again that it dies, is corrupted, and then as it were comes back to life. For the soul has not suffered corruption in other ways, nor will it ever suffer it. From the premises you posit, therefore, it necessarily follows that this faculty of the soul must flow away; and it would not be a stratum of knowledge, namely, that no thought of the soul, which is its faculty, flows away, nor that knowledge itself flows away and is corrupted. But it does not exist in the soul at one time and not at another: for it is the property of the remaining animal to become capable of knowledge when the soul imparts and gives it, and again to lose knowledge, and again to receive it, and to remain without it, and this repeatedly. We see this affection occur C even with water, which is cold, but when heated by fire becomes again what it was, namely cold. But the soul suffers nothing of this sort with regard to knowledge and mind, because it does not suffer it with regard to life. For these two are essential faculties of the soul, being in a similar state: namely, living and thinking, just as it is the property of fire to burn and to shine, and it loses none of these as long as the fire remains. There is no corruption of this life, nor of the mind. Therefore, it is not permitted for us to suppose and think that the corruption of knowledge—and of the memory and thought that arise from it—occurs in this way; it is certainly not permitted to suppose and think that the mind is corrupted. Therefore, every knowledge, and the memory and thought according to it, is D always in the soul.
5. Since this too is demonstrated, A it is by no means to be admitted that the soul is being reminded, nor that it pre-exists the animal which has partaken of it. For whence otherwise do the sciences come to us, who previously knew nothing about them? To me it seems that, just as you, teaching the pre-existence of souls, say that they are not ignorant of the sciences themselves, but because they are possessed of a perfect life and a perfect mind, they are also perfect in thought and science, so to me it has been demonstrated that these are born with and co-exist with the animals that partake of them, and that, being no less in perfect life and mind, they are perfect also in science and the knowledge thereof. Or for what reason would it not be so? Indeed, I think that neither would you say the contrary, nor could you demonstrate it.
It remains, therefore, that just as it is for the animal itself, which contains this intelligent soul, to be a sensible being, yet it operates nothing perfect through these very senses while the organs of the senses are not yet perfected; but after they have been brought to perfection, then it is capable of all things that are according to sense; so too the mind, from the very beginning mixed and commingled with the senses and the body, even if it is perfect in other respects and in the science itself, yet it is in need of perfected organs B through which it might, together with the body, manifest its power and efficacy in the sciences themselves.
The organs serving these—which are further from the soul—are sense and the fantasy proceeding from it; but those which adhere to the soul itself and are mixed with the former are thought and opinion. With such organs the mind operates science in bodies, and it operates well, indeed, when those organs are in a good state; but nothing excels where they do not excel. Whence it comes about that it is in need of no external aid, but suffices for itself, as if emerging from all obstacles: C sometimes, however, it is in need of external aid, not because it has forgotten the things it knew before, but so that it may be able to easily break and cast off that which was molded before it and which encompasses it with the thickness of flesh and commingled matter. And, just as fire wrapped in certain thicker substances is broken by an external blow, and the light of knowledge which is in it displays how much and what kind of science it can fulfill. Therefore, as we have said, it appears to be in need of the help of sense and the fantasy proceeding from it, and at the same time of thought and opinion, for the science and knowledge of beings—help which, if I may so say, strikes it while it is wrapped in matter and breaks through it, and D evokes its light to the contemplation and meditation of science. Thence, in my opinion, the knowledge of science comes to us. Thence the mind thinks it with the body and to reason it
it being a matter of remembrance, is A neither forgotten, according to your argument, nor brought about. And thus, both the opinion that knowledges are remembrances and the opinion that souls exist in no way before bodies are refuted and dissolved.
7. But these things have been said and demonstrated regarding the generation and incorruptibility of the soul; it having been demonstrated at the same time that souls neither exist before bodies, nor migrate from one to another. Since, however, the soul, once freed from the body, remains and is not corrupted, we must examine what it will do and what it will suffer by itself alone, and how it will preserve its own being intact and entirely whole, not only according to its essence, but also according to its faculties, since this is held to be the end of its nature and creation: that, being a rational animal, it should live and operate according to sense and will. For since all incorruptible and intelligible nature is twofold—the one always subsisting by itself and in no way uniting, mixing, or being confounded with bodies, which you call B demonic and which we concede to have missed the first lot of always remaining and revolving around the Creator, according to my argument, although it may not please you—this is nothing against the effort and demonstration currently being pursued. For that nature flees all bodies and all sense; the other, however, according to which these souls are born together with bodies and must be mixed and confounded with them, and in no way renounces bodies,—it cannot be said that the former has put on a body, nor that the latter, having been freed from the body, and always fleeing and departing far from it, does not, for the stated reason, preserve that for which it was born. But it has need of a body in which it will perform all its acts. It needs a body with which C it will suffer worse or better things, according as it has hastened to work virtue or wickedness; and according to you also, the soul will either be in the happiness of the living, or will experience severe things, with better things reserved for good souls, and worse for evil ones, in our opinion and yours; and we say that sorrows and delights and whatever else, belong not to the soul alone or the body alone, but to both. But we have not yet reached that point; only this has been demonstrated, namely, that the soul is joined to the body by nature, and D that it is not...
in the least willing to be separated A from it. And for this reason, I think, you yourselves always turn it back upon the bodies themselves and do not let it go from them, inasmuch as it is not able, nor is it by nature suited, to be established anywhere else outside of them. This is now what I too must attempt, to the extent that it is possible, to show clearly: that the soul, once loosed from the body that has grown together with it, returns to this very same body which it once laid aside, and not to another. And I must attempt this according to these very hypotheses of Plato, and how he, drawing souls back out of Hades, sends them into bodies—from nowhere else than from the accounts of the dead—by which the living are brought to life again, and he makes use of such proofs for this purpose in what follows. From contraries, he says, it is necessary for contraries to come to be; and he deems this to be true of everything and of all generation, and he does not at all wish for anything of this kind to have happened otherwise. And therefore, he says that the greater comes to be from that which was previously B less, and again the less from the greater, and the more just from the more unjust, and the swift from the slow, and the worse from the better; and his proposition treats of all such things, having itself in this way and showing that contraries arise from contraries. And since all things that are contrary are two, he places two generations between them, from one to the other, and from this to that. For between the greater and the less is increase and corruption; and he calls one "growing" and the other "corrupting," and "being compressed" and "being dissipated," and "cooling" and "heating," and everything in this way, even if it is not possible to use the names everywhere. For in reality it is necessary that it be so in every case: that they come to be from one another, and that there be a generation of each into the other. And therefore, he says that sleep is contrary to being awake, and, I suppose, death to life; and that on that pair of opposites there are generations: from being awake, falling asleep, and from sleeping, waking up; but in the case of life and death, how from life there is a generation toward the contrary—that is, death—and from death C again, coming to life; and thus he says that the dead are from the living, and the living, conversely, are from the dead, being their contraries. And these things are indeed Plato's, and these things are also for us, and we follow him, and these things are correctly held.
8. Nevertheless, we wish to know: from what smaller and growing thing does the greater come to be? Is it from some other thing than what is now greater, or from that very thing itself which was less before, before it clearly became greater? D
A Indeed, Plato himself, in his hypothesis, assumed that the prior state does not come to be greater from some other thing that is lesser, for in that way there could not even be a generation of humans. For how is it possible to say that when one thing is undergoing growth or decay, the very thing that it has suffered has come to be in another? For to be greater and to be lesser are surely one thing, and that in which these happen is not another and different thing. And so, therefore, concerning sleep and waking: he who is now sleeping will certainly wake up. And the generations are of two opposites; it is not one person who falls asleep and is weighed down by slumber, and another who wakes up, but the same person is both of these. And we say that he who formerly lived is dead; and that from the dead no other person comes to life again, but that very same person who had died, just as in the case of the sleeper who wakes up again. And thus from the lesser, as it grows, the greater is brought about. Is it not so with these things? Certainly it is so. See therefore and consider what we mean when we say that man is. You will say he is an animal, mortal in every respect, endowed with mind and reason and the soul that pertains to him, and we say that he is double, one from two, both corruptible and incorruptible: corruptible in body, incorruptible in soul, which abides and is never dissolved. B Although man is one in species, he is divided in many ways. And he is whole in each one, into however many individuals he is divided and separated, and each individual is equally the whole, insofar as he is man. But the species itself always remains the same and always unharmed; the others, however, do not remain in the same way, but how they do, the following things will teach. And we have come to this, and this is what we intend to say.
9. Since man is composite, consisting of soul and body, and each is mortal and capable of dissolution, we say that he dies and resumes life. As for the soul, indeed, which is immortal, we shall not say that he can die, since it can neither die nor come to life again. For life arises from death and from the dead, as Plato says, and as has already been shown. But since the soul does not die, it is not plausible, nor can it be said, that it comes to life again. Whose, then, is this experience? It is that of the rest of the man, namely, of what is in him, the animal and the body. C And from that dead body, surely no other body nor any other man will come to life, but he who was first living and then died. And with whatever body he died, he will be brought to life, because from the sleeper
A And thus, from the very principles of Plato, it has been demonstrated that other things which are contrary come into being from contraries, and that the dead rise again and live once more—none others than those who lived before, with the same souls and bodies. And in this way, every human being will be preserved by the artful reason and the wise Creator; nor will he lose any of his parts, and he will exist even more remarkably than those bodies which are in the heavens and are deemed by you to be everlasting, inasmuch as he is more admirable for the grace of his creation, bringing together into one the visible and invisible creation, and standing as a mediator, a third thing, like a sensible and intelligible world, remaining below and yet reaching upward, keeping company with the heavenly, and being a greater miracle than they. For every body, not only in the view of others who have discoursed on nature, but also in the opinion of Plato himself, is of a flowing nature; and he likewise judged this concerning the heavenly bodies, saying that the sun and the stars, while always coming into being, yet always remain. B If, therefore, these bodies are perishable, and although they are perishable, yet nonetheless permanently endure—even if not in the same substances—being governed according to you by an immortal soul, what prevents a man, who has been dissolved and has flowed away, from then coming together again into that which he was before, so that just as the soul itself remains perpetually, so too he may remain with a body, since the soul itself is incorruptible, and can neither live in another body nor perform those things which it ought to perform with a body? For unless this be so, it will not be, as we said, entirely without corruption, since its operation in conjunction with the body, which belongs to it by nature, will have been corrupted. C Nevertheless, Plato also punishes souls without bodies, namely those which have been evil and wicked in this life. And these punishments are the rivers Cocytus and Pyriphlegethon, and the fearful torrents flowing up and down from Tartarus and rushing with great violence, not allowing them to cross the lake of Acheron, so that they might not seek reconciliation with those they have wronged and thus escape punishment. But I, for my part, first of all do not know what an impassible soul, by its essence, could suffer by falling into rivers, whether they be rolling fire or some other punishing element. And how, moreover, is it held fast by the eddies of such streams gushing forth, and bound as if by inescapable shackles, so that it is rolled and turned about with them, and cannot, like a fish, pass to another place and swim away? D Furthermore, he casts murderers, adulterers, parricides, and sacrilegious persons into the same streams. And why should souls not suffer alongside the very bodies with which they have sinned, and...
A Since it is bound 38 in these bonds and will be coiled and twisted, and will not have—even as a fish 39 has—a way to move to other places and swim away; and since, moreover, he casts murderers, adulterers, parricides, and temple-robbers into these currents! And why does he not punish them together with the bodies with which they sinned, especially since the capacity for suffering remains with them? Instead, he leaves these aside and applies the punishments only to them, acting not only against justice, which should govern the whole, but even forcing himself to punish in this manner those who are not by nature able to be punished so. B Indeed, since the proverb itself speaks of the impossibility of "boiling stones" 40, Plato has us boiling souls in the Pyriphlegethon. For fire is indeed violent and bitter, and whatever water it may be, it is something sacred to punish; it cannot reach the soul if it is by itself, but only when it has been commingled with the body and with the perception that accompanies the body; for it acts upon the soul by this intermixture and co-suffering and cohesion. And what the soul would not have suffered before, when it existed apart from the body, it will suffer once it has become joined with it, whether it be of the pleasant variety or the painful; for both pleasures and griefs belong to the compound, C and especially all those that come about by way of perception and from perception, and not from one of these alone, neither from the soul only nor from the body. And this is clearly seen by us—and it is our consensus, not just yours—that it is possible for good and truly excellent men to enjoy good things, and thus being released from the present, punishment also belongs rightly to the wicked. We never gainsay this, for our life is divided into two parts: one from the time we are born until we die, and the other again [after death]. For we shall not die again, but we exchange this decaying life for one that stands for all time. And if we show ourselves to be base and wicked in the present, then evil awaits us there, and it remains for a life that will never end; but if we are good and upright, then better things await us. And just as pure and never-ceasing delights will exist, so too will punishment last for an equal time, invading both soul and body—that body which lived wickedly and served this wicked soul—since it would not be just that, when one commits the evil, the other should endure the punishments for it, which would be as if, because Plato was stained with sins, Plotinus or some other person who had committed no crimes were punished instead. And thus, we have spoken these things in antithesis against Plato and Plotinus, who challenge our doctrine concerning the soul. Whether, however, we have answered correctly...
And just as the punishment has an equal duration, justly pursuing both soul and body—that body which clearly lived wickedly and was a slave to this evil soul—since it is not holy for one to suffer the punishments for the deeds of another, and it would be akin to having Plotinus or some other person who was not involved in the crimes be punished because Plato had sinned. And now we, by way of counter-argument, have said these things against Plato and Plotinus, who have spoken contrary to our own settled convictions regarding the soul. But if we have stood our ground correctly, those who are able to discern the truth securely would know, and would know us. A
BY NICEPHORUS CHUMNUS TO HIS OWN DAUGHTER, THE EMPRESS, ON THE OCCASION OF HER WIDOWHOOD, AS SHE WAS IN HER SIXTEENTH YEAR.
The style is downcast and characterized by clarity of expression; it is, indeed, humbled, as the emotion and the subject soften and relax it.
I, my Empress, my most beloved child, from the time I saw you torn from your mother’s womb and born to us by the great mercies of God, immediately accounted you as everything to me: my life and breath, the light of my eyes, the gladness of my heart, the delight and pleasure of my soul, and everything of that kind, or even anything sweeter, more precious, and greater than such things. And I, being exceedingly intent upon your upbringing, constantly petitioned for this, praying earnestly to God that I might see you surpass the age of infancy and enter into a more perfect maturity, such as my vows and the ardor of my mind required. And in all my... B C
A I used to beg with much fear that none of the evils of this life might ever befall you, nor would I ever see your soul plunged in grief, nor hear groans arising from adverse and unhappy circumstances; if any adversity or sadness were to approach, I prayed that I might never see tears flowing from your eyes, nor witness any gloom or dejection upon your beautiful and lovely countenance, which was filled with peace and all graces. And I desired all the more—I desired it completely and fervently requested—that I should rather breathe out my soul in death (and sweet would that death have been to me) than see any calamity bringing pain to your heart.
All these things your mother, too, in the excess of her ineffable love, perpetually desired for you and begged, pouring out her whole soul and all her longing, nourishing you with milk, cherishing you with embraces, and carrying you in her arms, unable to bear staying even a little distance from you! How often, day and night, did she seek the divine houses, walking barefoot and putting on poverty, hastening to the pure and venerable icons, and before them making prayers and fervent supplications from the depth of a burning heart, asking these same things of God! B
And how many and how great are the good things which God Himself, surpassing our prayers, abundantly and lovingly conferred upon you, incomparable things! To wit, an extraordinary beauty of both soul and body, a sense of divine fear, the observance of Christ's commandments, purity of character, and everything that is most beautiful, outstripping all other goods if these are compared with them. C Seeing these things, we who had begotten you rejoiced and were filled with leaping joy, and we not only thought you would be the ornament and glory of our lineage, but we firmly expected it, placing all our hopes again in God, and in His most pure, most holy, and immaculate Mother.
Nor were we disappointed in that hope and that good and beautiful expectation. For when you had arrived at this time and this age, which is appropriate for marriage, God moved him who by His grace mercifully rules over us, and he took and raised you to that pinnacle of greatness, honor, and glory which we had not dared to have in our wishes nor to conceive in our minds. D What, then, followed? We, indeed, not knowing how great a good was to come to you, were preparing other marriages for you, which in no way befitted your pious ways and your most pure soul; as the end has now manifestly shown, and it has appeared from what a precipice and abyss God, in His providence, delivered you, and from what a house, filled with every turpitude and impiety. And then He undermined and made vain those empty
counsels and strivings of ours, and keeps, and preserves, and delivers you from that deadly evil. We, however, as I said, being ignorant of the providence of God the Benefactor and of His wise dispensation tending to something better for you, were grieving, were groaning, were rejecting life, as though we had lost some great good, while in reality the very opposite was occurring, though we knew it not.
And I say these things and bring them back to memory, so that I may restore your soul to tranquility, and rescue it from this great tempest and from the heavy tumult of the continuous clashing of waves, and from those bitter thoughts that bury it as if into the depths of the sea, into an abyss of pain, into which the excessive magnitude of this unbearable calamity has brought us down. For I fear, lest we undergo not only the death of our bodies, but the ruin of our very souls. B In order, therefore, that you may shake off from your heart this great and heavy cloud, and this thick mist, and the darkness poured upon us by suffering, and may look toward the great sea of the mercies of the Savior Christ, who provides everything for us in a way that is beneficial, for this reason I also make these present remarks, and bring to thought and memory those previous events that have turned out for our benefit beyond all our understanding.
I wish, indeed, to proceed to what follows; but my heart is torn, and shaken, and troubled, and I cannot contain it, as the terrible sword of this pain enters into its depth and constantly pierces it. And I do not know what I shall do, while on one hand I am drawn toward the intended C goal of exhortation and consolation, and on the other hand the calamity drags me back from there and leads me toward groanings and wailings and fountains of tears.
Oh! What bitter darkness covered my eyes, stinging as if from the smoke of a heart being scorched, and compelling me to empty out all within and suffer! What I endured in seeing and hearing, wretched man that I am! What news concerning you, O daughter, I sustained firmly and constantly!
My lady, the light of my eyes, the sweetest sight, the most beloved beauty, you who alone were my solace and comfort in all the gloomy events that preceded, how is it that I still live and breathe, and did not immediately appear dead after this calamity which is death-bearing to me? D As what did I send you away, and as what shall I receive you back! If, indeed, I shall even be able to endure and live until that time. It would have been better for me for the whole sun to be extinguished or to lose my entire sight, than to see you darkened in such a state as that in which the great and vast multitude of my sins has clothed and wrapped you.
But lest, by lingering over such things, instead of accompanying you and trying to lighten your painful feelings, I become one who rather kindles the flame more violently and stirs up the coals of pain and calamity, and so failing to exhort and comfort you, it is fitting for the present that I keep silent, and I leave funeral hymns and orations to others.
A But you, my empress, my sweetest light, who never could bear to see us sad and dejected without a great affect of pain, or to see tears flowing from our eyes, look now upon how much we suffer; look upon the inconsolable pain of our heart, and in this too be for us a wondrous comforter, just as everyone marvels at all other things concerning you. For there is no one else among men, so to speak, capable of comforting and consoling us, unless you show them by actual works and deeds, and not by words and speech alone, that you bear and endure with nobility this very calamity which, because of you, is intolerable to us.
For this is great and beyond any thought, but the Christian power of your soul is great, B and your piety is multifaceted and inferior to nothing, and your trust in God is great and mighty. How great and of what kind, how firm and secure is your hope in his all-transcendent Mother! You are able, if you wish, to bring to mind and contemplate many other great causes for giving thanks to and confessing our Benefactor and Savior Christ, and at the same time to receive consolations and most perfect refreshments. You are able to trust much in his ineffable and unspeakable mercy. Behold, for you the most excellent and pious emperor, and the most pious and loving Lady and Empress, our own, act in the place of father and mother toward you, and show themselves to you as if they themselves had begotten you. Thus do they bestow upon you all their care.
And I, and the mother who bore you, and your brothers C, we both wish and will always be toward you whatever you yourself might wish and desire, or whatever you, as mistress, might command; and we who surround you, as servants, will hasten in every way to serve you in all things; and nothing of those things which you yourself wish shall be left undone, provided that we are able to accomplish it. Only grant us to behold your countenance free from all sadness and dejection, your most festive form, your most serene and well-ordered character, your sweetest eyes filled with the love of God; grant that we may see your lips smiling, and all the time that remains to us will not be bitter. In this way show us all your love and affection; in this way may you wish to comfort your parents in reality; in this way see to it that you aid our very life. For you see how, consumed by pain, it is already wasting away and slipping toward destruction.
The law D given from heaven by God, as well as the human law, is that children should fulfill whatever their parents desire, whether great or small. And the observance of this law is firm.
A And many are the rewards reserved for it by God himself; yet people believe that there is nothing more honorable, nothing more precious in the category of virtue. Pay this debt to us, you who carefully fulfill all the laws and commandments of God, so that you may serve Him in all things. For in you we live and breathe and see the light, and we have not at once thrown away all our senses with this suffering, nor have we lost all our reason. If, therefore, you wish us to be still living and to experience sensations, show us first of all, through this very thing, your own most noble patience with a generous spirit. But what do I call that? Show your soul to be free from all despair and bitterness; and if you grant us this favor, know that you will revive us who are already as dead, and that nothing in this life will remain bitter and painful to us. B And how great a thing do you think this is considered by God? How great, too, by this merciful Mother? Because for the sake of your father and mother, having pity on those who were in such a state that they might breathe their last from grief, you appeared more noble in your endurance, and instead of being comforted by them, you yourself appeared to them in wondrous ways, as one who brings comfort, having rescued them from death itself and restored them again to life. God glorified you and, by raising you to a great and most magnificent height, He greatly glorified you. The first things are clear, and no one doubts them, since they shone forth with extraordinary honor. But as for the wretched calamities which we have suffered, such as these have been! C All the Romans, as if they had suffered the same things as we have, are seen plunged in the darkness of sadness, greatly afflicted and sympathizing. Now all things are full of tears because of our misfortune; the houses of the emperors, and all the greatest ones after them, and the streets of the cities, and there is no one who does not share in our sorrow. The temples also resound not only with tragic songs and funeral hymns, but also with the lamentations of the citizens, who utter groaning voices and are participants in our tears. How much comfort, then, does so great a communion of those who sympathize so ardently bring to us, if we wish to perceive it as is fitting! D Let us not, therefore, use for the contrary those things which we ought to have as causes and pretexts for consolation; for it is not right that we should feel grief more than is proper, yet not accept or take care for those things which have the power to soothe. That sorrow is common to you with others; for you will find many and countless women, if you consider the present and past time, who have experienced the same evils; but as for what concerns honor, there is no one who [possesses] not only an equal, but not even one close to...
A that which you have attained, a thing which, as God confirms it for you, shall remain forever, at least so long as the human race shall remain in this life.
Do all these things, then, bring you more causes for sadness and grief, or for many and great thanksgivings to God and confession of Him? The latter, entirely. And should we not, as is fitting, repay Him, by together offering thanks—to Him, I say, and to His most pure Mother, by whose intercession, beyond all our thought and beyond all our sense, God, foreseeing such things, wisely directs them to the end, which He Himself knows, that is superior to all grief and sadness? B For since we men do not live by bodies alone, but also by immortal souls—and indeed, much more so by souls than by bodies, which are subject to corruption—and since we have been deemed worthy of the sound knowledge of God and of the secure faith in Christ Jesus, and have been called to those goods which never end, we are rightly put to the test in these present, vain, flowing, and fleeting things, which have nothing solid or firm. If, therefore, we appear noble, bearing the trial courageously, and at the same time giving thanks in all things for what has pleased God and has befallen us, we shall not then receive back merely simple things for the calamities which we have endured with thanksgiving, but rather manifold things, obtaining a final blessing greater than the first; just as that noble man, C Job, remained unperturbed in all the calamities that befell him from every side, and in all the artifices of the tempter. "They went forth," he says, "and wept, sowing their seeds"; and, "For the dead," he says, "mourn." And again, "For the dead, shed tears, and enduring terrible things, begin your lamentation." D Yet, "In your patience possess your souls," cries out and testifies Christ the Savior; which patience I call a seed mixed with tears and weeping, just as the patience of those who till the earth is mixed with many labors and fountains of sweat. And there, those many sheaves, which they carry coming with joy and exultation, are indeed vain matter, trodden underfoot and cast away; but here, all those fruits born from patience are pure, gathered into heavenly granaries, never to be spent, and even here they draw down from God many and great rewards, for He "rendeth the sacks" of those who suffer bitter things, "and girdeth them with gladness, and turneth their mourning into joy." And David, believing that he would "see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living," says nothing else immediately, but turned toward himself, says: "Wait for the Lord; be manly, and let your heart be strengthened, and wait for the Lord"—for that blessed spectacle shall not occur and come to pass for you except through patience.
A You have indeed wept great and excessive tears and poured forth fountains of tears; many before the calamity, many in the very midst of the pain and calamity, and many after the calamity, surrendering your whole heart to the flame and the fire and the wasting away that stems from it. Show, then, in equal measure, also that of patience, and sacrifice and offer this to Christ who commands and seeks it, and by this precept possess your soul; and act so that we too may possess our own souls, which are in danger of being cast down and failing through despair, because they cannot receive relief and consolation from any other quarter than you—if you, by your supreme piety and confidence in God, and at the same time by your noble and steadfast state of mind, show yourself superior and rise above this great suffering and the calamity that has seized and brought us all low. B And in this way, you who are in all things wondrous, may you become for us a wondrous comforter, proving not only by words and arguments, but by the very deeds themselves, that you have received perfect consolation from God, and have put on this great patience and this wondrous endurance. These prayers, my empress, these vows I send to you; accept them willingly, for you desire and are eager to do things pleasing to us, your parents. And do not despise now (for you see how ardently) your suppliant father, who cannot live otherwise than by receiving joyful news about you—news that might soothe the thoughts that bitterly disturb and rend and kill my whole heart. Do these things, and if you are able, even more than these, for our consolation; and God will provide for you in this world care and all mercy, for He is the Father of mercies. C And furthermore, in the heavens He will bestow upon you that ineffable and never-ending joy, through the intercession and mediation of His most pure and most holy and most immaculate Mother.
NICEPHORUS CHUMNUS TO THE BISHOP OF PHILADELPHIA ON THE MIRACLE PERFORMED IN CANA
A Regarding the miracle that the Lord Savior performed in Cana, which is the first of all, you rightly inquire why He did not change another substance, but water, into wine. For in truth, even the opposite—wine turned into water—would have been no less marvelous, whether you consider the reason for the miracle or the demonstration, if you wish to contemplate the power of the transformation or of divine efficacy; and at the nuptials and the feast, that would have been most appropriate. Why? Because Paul says, “Do not be drunk with wine, in which is debauchery” (Eph. 5:18). By this he would at once stun those who were not sober, and render them wise, persuading them to attend to the wedding and to observe the laws established for such occasions, drinking water and not wine, in which, according to the words of Paul, there is debauchery.
But now, since water has been turned into wine, it becomes a sort of instrument of luxury, to which Christ nowhere appears to exhort, nor does He permit it. This is clear from the prayer He has handed down to us, teaching us to seek our daily bread (Matt. 6:11) and nothing else, nor the pleasures of foods. And when promising the reward of a cup to those who share, He does not speak of a cup of wine, but of cold water (Matt. 10:42); therefore, this is water. For what is dry on the earth, and is called “earth” according to Scripture, that is here the cold water of the cup, a drink common to humans and to other animals, and sufficient for both the one and the other. Nor will any animal suffer any harm that corrupts its life if it uses water; nor will man suffer such a thing, since there was a time when he lived drinking only water, not even knowing what wine was. For they say that it was after the flood B that wine was discovered, and immediately after the first knowledge of wine, he fell into a dangerous experiment. C D
A Nothing of the sort is a concern to God, so far as man is concerned; but He does care for the necessities of those who live, namely bread and water. And for this reason, one kind of leisure abounds for us; but to eat bread in the sweat of our brow is the commandment of God, on account of that beautiful fruit which, overcome by beauty or gluttony and negligent of the commandments, we have consumed.
However, since this way seems to have a better and greater logic, and to contain more instruction for the sake of wisdom and a frugal, continent life—namely, when it appears better for wine to be turned into water than water into wine—why is it that He did not perform the miracle first and better, or else neither, but rather the second, namely, the conversion of water, B and that [He did it] well and properly, just as we have said in our introduction, you yourself, having understanding, have inquired. But who is better able to find out correctly than you, who search and labor much—you whose heart is pure and sees God, and whose thoughts, ascending to Him, penetrate His wonders fully, so that you too, with the Spirit, may be able to penetrate the things of the Spirit? Since, then, you have encouraged us to state our own opinion, we shall speak, trusting in your spirit and in the grace that is from it.
We see these two miracles performed upon water: one, the first of all the others, and the other, the last of the others, and [it was] on the cross. And the first is C that one which is in Cana and at the marriage, which we are presently explaining; but the water on the cross, having flowed from the side of the Savior, the divine blood having been converted into this at the last of the miracles, just as in the first, Christ Himself converted this into wine.
And I think that both miracles tend toward the same end, the first and the last. For there is a marriage there, and God honors it, because they are indeed to be honored; and they are to be honored for the sake of future children, whom Christ adopts, and says that God is their Father—His own Father—and incites men to dare to call upon Him according to this relationship. But when are they these things, D and when do they call upon Him genuinely? When, clearly, both having been regenerated by water and Spirit, they put on Christ Himself in His entirety as an everlasting and incorruptible garment. What then? The source of baptism is manifest, from which we are regenerated; but that which is of the Spirit is invisible, and to the unbelievers it is not very believable that water has been able to accomplish so many great and supernatural things. For they do not see the Spirit, and because they do not see Him, they do not understand the transformation
B and change of the water. Christ therefore transforms and converts this into wine, that He might thereby confirm the transformation of this same water into the Spirit, and at the same time confirm the incorruptible regeneration of the nature born from the marriage. For this reason also, from the divine side on the cross came blood and water, because Christ is both of these—having been made flesh from pure virginal blood, and having been baptized in water, and having washed in the bath, not for His own sake, but as an expiation for the whole world.
Thus we have known this regarding the first of all the Savior’s miracles; thus we have known it regarding the last, which was accomplished on the cross. And since water has been made into wine, and blood in turn has been turned into water, there is nothing incredible in the wine itself becoming the blood of Him who performed such miracles—the final and saving mystery for us, and the chalice which He Himself, being the bridegroom of this immaculate Church which He acquired for Himself, mixes from an eternal fountain, a pledge of eternal life for those who partake. So that in this one miracle which took place in Cana, not only as the first of others, but as one unique in its kind, the entire power of our salvation is demonstrated and our faith is solidly established.
But if you, as one who is able to penetrate the miracles of God—this one and the others as well—in a better, or rather, even superior way, know and could teach something more sublime, we, applying our minds to this, will be partakers of your understanding. C
BY THE SAME EUTHUS TO THE SAME
On the petition of Elisha to Elijah, and on the problems posed regarding it; furthermore, many other and greater points from the Gospels have been called into question and resolved.
Fear indeed possessed me before, and it was not small, lest I appear too bold if I were to [examine] the sacred Scriptures
them; or things which one ought not to; or things which are not at all safe; or to be busy about many things; or to desire to exercise and test the mind in their hidden parts, since these things—even those of the Spirit—are not granted to all, but are clearly for those to whom it has been given to be able to reach the dogmas dictated by the Spirit. And I believe the divine voice intends this in the command: "Search the Scriptures," meaning that the exhortation is not addressed to all, but rather to those who are able to find what is correctly within them, having purified themselves entirely—body, tongue, soul, and mind—and are thus in this way capable, without stain, of the divine light and of revelations and initiations B higher than our mind and its power and nature. For if it is not permitted with unwashed hands to touch holy and pure things, how much more, and to the greatest degree, is it to be feared that an unpurified mind or thought should force itself to approach, advance, and, as it were, stretch out toward things that are above it, which are in no way attainable except with pure holiness and the perfect purification of which we have spoken.
Nevertheless, since these also are calls from God—"Seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened"—we too approach, seeking to find. And we knock first at the mind, so that we may watch with attention, humility, and contrition of heart; then we lead it to the gates that shut and conceal the divine Scriptures, knocking upon them, yet not without fear, and with very great trembling desiring that they might be sufficiently broken and opened to it. And when it has entered inside, it should neither think nor say anything of its own, but only as much as it may be taught, regarding what is hidden under the covering of the letter, which is not at all manifest to the many.
Nevertheless, since we have laid these things down as the beginning of what is to follow, and since they are so, we may have confidence, and we at last come to that which we must now seek. And what is this? That which relates to C Elijah and Elisha, which, although it is one thing and a difficult one, has more and greater things joined to it, which stand in need of the same examination and seem no less D difficult. For Elijah hears God saying to anoint Elisha as a prophet in his place, and he anoints him. Then both going to the Jordan, Elijah smites it with his mantle and divides it, and they walk through on dry land, the waters having retreated for them. Following this, Elijah permits Elisha to ask for whatever he wishes, as if it were to be fulfilled for him, with Elijah making it come to pass. But he requested that a double portion of the spirit of Elijah might come upon him.
A And Elijah deems this a difficult request, yet not altogether so, nor for all time; but “If you see me,” he says, “when I am taken from you, it shall be so for you.” They went on having said these things. But when they had gone on, Elisha sees a chariot of fire, and upon it Elijah immediately snatched up and carried on high. And because he saw these things and already trusted in the grace, in truth, turning toward the Jordan, he too strikes it with the sheepskin mantle; but it does not yield B nor is it parted as at first, nor is it divided, nor does it provide a dry path for Elisha to look upon it or to step upon it. And the prophet was in deep straits, since what he had asked for and indeed heard he would receive, he had not only not found to be doubled, but not even found to be singular, though he had been a spectator of the Lord’s chariot and the ascent of Elijah; and the mantle was the same, and the Jordan the same, and [it was flowing] again in the same channels; but there was no division, nor was the parting at all the same as the first one. What then? He turns again to Elijah, C and invokes his God; and upon this petition he strikes the Jordan again, and strikes it and breaks it, and crosses over it as if upon dry land, neither more nor less than Elijah and his spirit, knowing now that he himself was already capable.
And these things, then, occurred in this manner. But here that question is also asked: Why does Elijah not meet the request of Elisha in a friendly way, but rather harshly, as if driven by envy and not enduring to have less than the one who had been anointed by him? D Yet it is also asked—and this involves very great difficulty—how it is that Elijah on the one hand ascended on the chariot before the eyes of Elisha and ran on high, yet the Jordan, having been divided by Elijah, resisted Elisha and would not give way or yield, even though the spirit that had been upon him had, according to the prayer of Elisha, become double upon Elisha in this matter; for it was not likely that Elijah had lied, nor would anyone dare to say so. But what then? But not yet this. But I believe we ought to speak of the former matter first.
Elijah is vexed and feels distress and hardens himself when Elisha makes his request, because the latter was ignorant and did not know the whole of that spirit; for he ought not to have requested that spirit, nor a double portion of it. Now, however, it is the same as if someone, knowing that there were treasures of wealth with another, knew the treasures indeed, but did not know the number, and, perhaps believing them to be fewer and only half, requested them to be doubled; and thus, in asking for them, he was seeking [only] those same things, and not more than what already existed. For what greater spirit and power could there be in a prophet than to be able by his voice to restrain and establish water in the heavens, and to make it remain above, when by nature it cannot be compelled to remain, and to store it for a determined time, so that at his voice it might again rush
A down to the earth, and to draw down fire from above—not having another place, but occupying that higher one—and then he urged it against the sacrifice, and not only consumed it, but also the water which he had poured over it, and everything that was around it, having gathered them together and burned them up. B Assuredly, this is no small thing: that with a little bread and a little water, and by the power of this nourishment, he walked for forty days and forty nights. But what of the fact that he also came to Sarepta C and heard the widow, because, having come to stay with her, he had indeed pitched his tent with her? Look with me, even there, at what kind and how many and what manner of wonders [they are]: the matter concerning the flour jar, which was being emptied and yet never failed, but was always being filled; and the matter concerning the cruse of oil, which behaved in the same way. And as to the fact that Elijah also raised the dead son of that same widow, what could anyone say is greater than this? What, therefore, could the double portion of such things and of the Spirit that brings such things to pass ever be, and how great might it be? But, "If you see me," he says, "being taken up," D almost as if saying this: "Since these things are not sufficient or enough for you as a demonstration of the spirit that is in me, but [since] you shall see me snatched away and taken up by a chariot of fire, you will neither believe that there is anything more than what is in me, nor will you desire that there be anything greater with you, knowing that [it is] greater from the very sight of it, and therefore [being] better taught than you had previously believed and [the thing] for whose desire you were held."
But these are indeed the things concerning which we have been in doubt regarding Elijah and Elisha. The discourse, however, having been led on to other things that are greater and more sublime, leads us to what is connected to the things already said.
For indeed, in the Gospels, an angel appears to Zacharias; and having appeared and prophesying to him concerning [his] son John, "He shall be great," he says, "and he himself shall go before [him] in the spirit and power of Elijah." And consider with me, even here, how great and of what sort is that which concerns Elijah, since there is nothing else, neither more sublime nor greater, that could be proclaimed to Zacharias concerning [his] son.
Consider also, again, by paying attention to the voices of Christ, of Christ the God, who even through the angel spoke the things [that were] said: "There has not arisen," he says, "a greater among those born of women than John the Baptist." Of what sort was this [John]? He had come in the spirit and power of Elijah. And what occurs here is not without difficulty, nor is it entirely small. For if the Baptist is greater than all the rest, or [even] than the prophets, why is he not [clothed] in a greater spirit, nor in a greater power, but [remains] in the same?
A And how shall that which is greater be saved for him, if Elias has nothing less, nor anything lacking, but has possessed the same thing? But who is he who is indeed lesser than the Baptist, yet greater than him in the kingdom of heaven?
But first receive from me those things which were spoken earlier by the angel. "For he shall turn," he says regarding John, "many of the sons of Israel unto the Lord their God." Then he adds: "And he shall go before him in the spirit and power of Elias." For at that time the sons of Israel had turned their face and their hearts away from the face of God; they had turned from thence and turned to Baal, and were following him, and all these things, which both histories and books report, were done most dreadfully against the altars of God, against his priests. B Over these Elias is angered, and he turns those evils back upon those who did them, and [he turns] reproach upon the prophets and indignation upon the priests, and he delivers Israel from its error, and turns them back again to God. Therefore, that spirit, that virtue was needed, in order that he might turn many of the sons of Israel and save those who were submissive to him. And that is what I think it means: "He shall come in the spirit and virtue of Elias."
It remains to be demonstrated—and what is there besides?—how the Baptist is greater. It is by that very baptism which, as a precursor to the perfect [baptism] in Christ, prepares a people for him, not only from the sons of Israel, but from every nation and every race of men; and not only in that way, but also because Christ himself comes to him, and, having bowed his head, receives baptism, he who is the Lamb of God and takes away all the sins of the world, and purifies in the baptism; he himself is Christ, who is indeed reckoned as lesser than John, yet is greater than him. For in every baptism, since one thing belongs to the one baptizing and another to the one being baptized, he who baptizes seems to be greater than the one being baptized. C But it is not in the same way concerning Christ, since He is God, and He baptizes the one baptizing with water with the Spirit, without which baptism it is not permitted to enter into the kingdom of heaven. John also becomes a participant in this perfect baptism. But how? By [Christ's] hand, his most pure head [is placed] in the water.
A Since such a baptism is perfect, John also participates in it. How does he participate? He touches the immaculate head with his hand in the water, hears the Father testifying from above, and sees the Spirit descending in the form of a dove before his eyes. And in this manner, the whole Trinity being thus manifested to him, if you will, my discourse regards it as a baptism, or if you prefer, as an illumination. To this all-working Trinity belongs all the grace of baptism, and all the salvation of us who have been baptized in it, provided we keep the confession safe and pure, containing nothing aberrant from the truth, nor any confusion or impurity, and nothing that could shake or weaken its firmness. B
OF NICEPHORUS CHUMNUS
TESTAMENT AND MIXED VALEDICTORY DISCOURSE, AS IF AT THE TIME OF DEATH, BEFORE DEATH
He shows first that it is better and more beneficial to compose testaments while standing in firm health, rather than to await the weakening of disease and the final day that separates one from life. Those who attentively follow this discourse will perceive what great prudence the address shows by skillfully and opportunely adapting to each subject what is appropriate, so that neither does it seem that any of the things that ought to be said have been omitted, nor does the humility that by necessity intrudes—which cannot be avoided—dissolve, weaken, or unduly relax the tone. C It is a custom among almost all, or at least the majority, who approach the final moments of life and its dissolution, to concern themselves with the division and distribution of their possessions and the inheritances they wish to bequeath, and to force the soul itself, already hastening toward its departure, back into the anxieties and labors which least become it. To me, indeed,A it is a source of great astonishment if a man, having arrived at that final day, does not immediately cast off all the thoughts that cling to present things, but remains still entangled in cares concerning his possessions—or rather, more than he had already, he bestows his remaining attention upon worldly matters, invoking them in some other way, not knowing whether he is stepping into pleasant or sorrowful things, and things that extend forever. Does he not look with total detachment to that single destination alone, to which the soul, once loosed from the body, must be led by those who conduct it, and what manner of place will receive it, either punishing or bringing it rest? B We have, however, this discipline and instruction certainly, which manages our future well and profitably prepares us for it, namely, to spend this life as a constant meditation upon death. And blessed are those who, wisely applying their whole mind to these exhortations, strive to submit their entire life to this counsel, and to live according to it.
When, however, anyone appears not only to have neglected this, but to have made death itself a meditation upon the things of this life—contrary to this precept—he, as I was saying, casts me into astonishment, for he acts in this way during his last days and at the very end. For if you wish, while death is already pricking you, to write testaments, yet on the other hand cannot bear to be parted from your goods, why do you not consider the whole time of life to be a time of death, and why, before the end itself truly arrives, do you not write looking toward it?
C For the matter stands thus: since we are born mortal, there is born with us, in a way, that corruption and flux which dissolves life itself. And indeed, as we fall into the path and course of life, it is given to us to look steadily from the beginning not only toward the end at which we shall rest, but even now, in these things which are passing by, to perceive the corruption joined to them. For our life proceeds as if in track, and death, running up and accompanying what life has left behind, immediately takes and seizes it; and through all the flowing and passing parts of life we are being destroyed, and those things which are already added to death. So that, if death, by striking fear into you, compels you on your last day to write a testament, D why do you not write your testaments today, while it is still reigning (and you see clearly how much it possesses), when you have a healthy body and your mind is not yet disturbed by a violent disease, nor are you agitated by the fear of that thought—that you are, in fact, already dying
A For what will you suffer when a burning fever consumes you—a fever stronger than the art of physicians or any other contrivance—and violently works your corruption and dissolution, loosening the bond of soul and body? Or when a chill gradually advances, shaking the whole mass of the body and seizing its extremities, bringing death wherever it goes; when the vital spirit is constricted and at last retreats to the heart, and then someone approaches to speak with you about codicils dividing your goods and assigning your inheritances to those who will survive you? And you, hearing this, are immediately struck to the heart, and turn yourself away from the long error and that perpetual vanity by which you were deceived all your life without knowing it, and are immediately convinced by certain understanding that all those labors and all your previous care were expended in vain and had no useful result? When, therefore, these things begin to happen, and when there come upon you—busy with such thoughts—those who are either family or strangers, who struggle to take hold of his property and riches as if they were a debt owed to them by some absolute necessity, and who compel him to divide his possessions—what then ensues, regarding such a thing? For he divides according to his own will, not according to the pleasure or the insatiable desire of each of them. And they, indignant, reject the favor; one expecting more than what he willingly and gladly gives, another indeed not enduring that only an equal share should be given to him, nor that he himself should not receive more. There is even one who rejects everything that has been granted to him, and employs a seemly pretext and a noble-sounding right: “I expected much greater things,” he says, “and I relied upon firm hopes.” B But, nevertheless, when it is the time to invite lamentations and groans, others go off into fights more often because things did not turn out according to their wish, omitting tears and grief, and designating a time of pain as a time of war and litigation. C And what follows after this? He who, as we have said, is thus brought to death, weakened and softened and subdued by their vain speeches, wishing to free himself—already being freed from life—from this absurd insolence, does not dispose matters in his testament according to his own desire, but according to mere tyranny. D Then they call these codicils his “last will” and an “immovable testament,” and such that it is permitted to no one to overturn or despise it. Such, therefore, did they command to be done, and they decree as valid and confirmed things which were not done voluntarily, but under compulsion.
Not so, I. What I have tested in such matters to be in every way the best, that I shall now do with my own affairs. And what is that? Now, when no disease hinders me, now, when not...
A only is the morrow uncertain as to whether he shall live to see it, but concerning this very day doctors disagree and struggle—some contending that the breath will hold until evening, while others, fixing upon the sixth or the ninth hour or whatever other time their art or ignorance has hit upon, say that the soul is to be dissolved and burst forth from the body; although nothing true or manifest appears to those who say and affirm this, nor again to those who inquire—but while the whole body is strong, and the reasoning faculties are sovereign in performing their duty and judging correctly; now, when there is no one to trouble or disturb me, I have determined to draw up my testament (and it has been drawn up), containing nothing forced or ill-considered.
And this is truly and in every way the best [judgment] B by the consensus of all judges, and, as it seems to me, by all other men as well. For immediately, all laws and legislators keep this in view before all else, so to speak, and on this account form their entire argument, that decrees should be established upon some foundation that is pure and solid, as is the mind of the one who is composing them. And this has indeed been well studied by lawgivers and judges, inasmuch as it is also more just than anything else; just as, conversely, it is absolutely impious if one uses violence to force anything against this.
If, therefore, these things are so (and they are indeed so), when is it more proper for those examining C the records to believe them with certainty and not to doubt at all, than when they [the testaments] were composed by one walking about, in good health, possessing the strength to do whatever must be done, and being wholly in control of himself and his reasoning faculties? And indeed, those who see to the drafting of testaments at the hour of death make it their business, more than anything else, to show that the testator was strong when he drew them up, even if in truth his mind and tongue have failed him; for it is as though the testaments would be of no help at all to those presenting them if something of that sort were missing.
Have this, therefore, also in mind concerning these matters: observe the mind and tongue D of a man in health, and [the mind and tongue] of one who is robust in sickness but failing in his limbs, with his vigor dissolved. Consider also the mind that is in no way impeded, free in its own movements and not at all stirred or perverted by any disease, nor bound by the weight and torpor of illness; and then consider the soul, laboring under the greatest fear, highly agitated, already feeling itself dissolving and withdrawing from the senses and abandoning its organs, barely breathing and speaking with a voice—if not obscure and broken, then at least forced and constrained. Observe these things, therefore; and unless you wish to be offended by the truth, attribute weight to those things that are established by what is manifest and truly existing; and for all men, surely you, as a legislator who makes use of right
judgment, order those who are strong and in the bloom of bodily power and health—and not those who are struggling and being worn down by aging diseases and life-paralyzing conditions—to make their testaments. And at the same time, instruct the judges to pay rightful attention to such testaments as a priority, and to devote themselves entirely to them, not according the same consideration to those that are made otherwise. Legislate these things, having carefully considered that this is not only a matter of justice, but also of benefit to the testator B and the heirs, as is reasonable.
How do you consult for benefit? First, because as I was saying, being under no compulsion, with no one disturbing his heart, but acting freely and at his own discretion in the decisions made, he knows how to divide and administer things appropriately, both as will be profitable for himself while living and when he has departed; second, because those who receive portions will have no cause to be offended with him, nor will they be importunate or burdensome, pressing upon him together with his illness, and taking the occasion of his distress as an ally for greed and base desire. Instead, they will be content with what is distributed, knowing clearly that they will gain nothing more by using force, and also fearing that they might be deprived of everything if they lose their standing, having been judged ungrateful for the gifts freely given. For it is possible immediately to draw up a codicil and to exclude the ungrateful from the testament entirely, while making the gift irrevocable for those who show gratitude; to whom it has also profited entirely, without any strife or contention, and without the necessity of being dragged before courts and judges, to have received their inheritances at the appointed time, having had them distributed long before, and then, as it pleased the distributor, having had them made their own.
C And so, one would more justly acquire a reputation for magnanimity or, at the same time, for honor and the freedom of giving, if he seems to give from those things which he is free to give and which he is able to enjoy, rather than if he gives from what is foreign to him, and from which he is believed to be falling away against his will. For in one's final moments, being able to carry nothing of one's own with oneself, and being stripped of everything, and being capable of distributing them as if they had never belonged to him—even if he were to yield everything to those who desire it, he does not seem to be giving what is his own any more than if he were giving what belongs to another; for he has let go of things that he is already unable to hold. For at that time, there remains in even the most passionate men no affection whatsoever for any of the things present; for how could there be? When for them there occurs now not only a loosening and a laying aside of possessions and affairs, but also of the body itself. It is for this reason that those who share in his goods are not eager to offer him thanks and to remember the favor; but rather, they show a duller mind toward this, because he, when he was enjoying health and luxury, did not set his mind to distributing his own goods to them, not even in writing.
And concerning the soul, and what mention he makes at that time of those things that are able to assist it D, by which means they show their own inclination, regarding those things which that man—insofar as it is in writings—neither gave of his own possessions in any measure
A nor makes them sacred. For even the ancient law did not bring an infirm nor a lifeless thing to sacrifice. For if the offering at the end of life has a reward, how could it be offered in vain; how could it be abominable, sharing in death?
Indeed, even if someone were to value highly that gifts should remain as living to the dead, and not be altogether corrupted, because they were not given at the proper time nor when it was befitting, but were, so to speak, made into carrion—since they have a time for their soul (as it seems to some, and it seems so to me too), while mind and body still flourish in strength and health—one must go toward making a will, and goods must be divided, and conceded to whom one pleases, for the reason that he who, being situated at his final hour, divides his goods, claims for himself from no one any acknowledgement of honor or gratitude. But he makes them even more grateful who come into inheritances and are small, because for a longer and more extended time they have known how much gain they were to make through those who received before them; nor in the end, even if they are carried away by less desire and greed, or sustain it indignantly and grudgingly, or are indignant at the one conceding it, do they become angry for things received gratis. B Indeed, he who is dying departs and migrates untroubled, at least as regards them, and is disturbed by no one in any way. And surely, whoever is joined with him are wholly of this one time and matter alone, and they remember only the one who is departing and is dead, whom they love, and they grieve over his death, looking to that one thing alone, having no regard for any other matter nor thinking of anything else that would befit their grief and present state.
Without doubt, anyone praises him who, before the end arrives, looks to that [event] and is rightly and well prepared. I myself praise it, and more than others, and [I have decided] that there is no other way one ought to determine to arrange my own affairs according to my will. And thus I arrange them.
C Igitur, we wish for all to know this first, and to know it well, both those who are now present for my testament and those who will read it in future time, that we are conscious of having added nothing out of injustice—as far as memory recalls—after mature examination and labor, to our goods, which are many, by the mercy and gift of God; and also by the frequent benefits of Him who commands us with divine holiness. Nor, since we have seemed to have much power through His own mercy, is there any one of those who are subject to our authority who has experienced our hands [as] violent or tyrannical or oppressive, and has groaned having suffered any evil from us. Nor have we seemed lesser through the greed and alteration of outsiders. Therefore, nothing of ours D
A a debt we say, nor is it incumbent upon us to render, either simple or multiple, as happens with false accusers and those who violently and unjustly took something away. For injustice was hateful to us more than anything else, and whatever arises from it was abominable to us, as deadly and hostile. Indeed, we even gave counsel to others—those whom it was fitting should listen to us when we advised—and frequent discourses were elaborated by us concerning these things, urging them to embrace justice and to flee injustice in every way.
On this account, I do not believe that I must beg or pray for pardon, seeing that the things we have done well unto men, even those who wished to oppress us with very great evils, come to our aid. For it happened to me that many did me great and extreme harm, goaded by dire envy, and driven not by any other cause presenting a rationale. For those people I said at that time: “Be merciful to them, Lord,” and now I say: Never may they experience your wrath, but may they experience that kindness and mercy which you pour out upon all the needy, and do not hold against them either this or any other sin, whatsoever may have taken root in their hearts. B
To our Emperors, even if we have not rendered specifically as much as was just and owed (for it was not, nor is it possible to fulfill that which is sufficient in response to benefactions—see how many they are, and see the excess of their magnitude), yet we have rendered everything that was possible to the furthest extent out of the whole soul, the whole heart, and mind, and if it did not reach the scale of what is worthy (for this is more impossible than anything), it did not fail to reach the extent of our own power. And if we contributed anything from this very zeal to common concerns and to all things having the character of public utility, serving the wise counsels and opinions of the Emperor not too sluggishly, it would not be mine to say, but rather his who appointed us to this task and duty. I leave it to be said and affirmed by Truth herself, who prevails more than calumny or sycophancy or envy and cries out more clearly, since Truth, as it seems to me, surpasses all things in strength. C So that if anyone should wish to rise up in vain and without result against us while we live, and against us when dead, nothing more will happen to him, since the facts themselves, and the ones who understand and judge them deeply, cry out in opposition. “Dead flies make oil of perfume putrid,” says the wise man. And envy will indeed want to corrupt lovely things, but it will not be able to do so among those who rejoice in judgment and wish to inquire and judge justly. D
Howbeit, lest we have much to say about this, and attempting to relate all things in order, another way than what is strong is truth, so that it prevails over all human reasonings.
A I believe that I should entirely set these matters aside, and trust in God, who knows all things, whether manifest or hidden, and who reaches out a hand to the truth, and permits it to be neither held fast nor trampled upon by anyone. It remains, therefore, for me to return to the matter proposed and to bring my intention to its conclusion.
We desired, then, to arrange our goods and to state our will concerning them. This, therefore, we accomplish, fulfilling our purpose. And this is our will: that, over all our goods, the partner and companion of our life—a soul prepared by God Himself to be in harmony with my own—be established; and that she have, before all else, a care for my soul, determining whatever is fitting for it, being in no way inferior in the solicitude owed to it. And indeed, provided that there is care for my soul, it shall be entirely permitted to her to spend whatever she sees fit of my goods, and to render no account to anyone for the expenditures made, nor for the things she has done. She shall also provide an inheritance for our children and for those who are closely related to us. And she shall treat our servants well. And she shall perform all other things with full authority, just as the majority of these matters—and those more necessary to be spoken of—have been set forth here in detail.
B Furthermore, there is no law that stands in the way, opposes, or contradicts me in my wishing and arranging things in this manner; but all laws, if I may say so, both divine and human, lean together toward this, namely, that it is permitted to me to do whatever I wish with my own. And at the same time, what could be more just than that she, who shares in all the things that I myself share, should be established over these goods upon my death, since she has contributed no less effort toward them than I have? C For it has happened to us—and it has happened in an astonishing way—that we have increased our household, not only by reaping where we had not sown, and gathering from where we had scattered, and by receiving blessings not only from those who came to us, but also from those who were privy to our affairs and prayed for our prosperity and other good things for us; (which is the only method that is accustomed to make fields fertile and to bring forth fruit, and to provide rich returns and abundance; while the contrary method very justly strips one bare, and fills neither the hand nor the bosom D of the reaper and the gatherer); but also by the steadfast labors and counsels of this excellent and admirable wife of mine. I do not blush to say this, preferring the truth above all things. Our life has flourished, and it has abounded as much as was permitted, while others—starting from no smaller, or indeed even larger foundations—have not attained the same.
I myself, having surrendered my whole self to the commands of the Emperor and to burdens for the common good, found no leisure to turn my attention to domestic matters and to expend labor and concern upon them. But she, by fulfilling her own role in full, also contributed my share in my stead. From this, not only did nothing of our existing property waste away or perish where it ought not to have, but also revenues and sources of income were devised through upright means; and extra resources were added to the household, along with great compassion for the poor, B and with much empathy and sympathy for those in misfortune, and with things far superior to those of others, and much more worthy of praise than that admirable woman, known only for the wisdom of Solomon and from nowhere else—whom I consider to be rather a parsimonious artisan, applying her hands to the spindle, taking care of wool-work, and busying herself with wool, garments, double-cloaks, provisions, the tables of servants (1), and such things—to show diligence, zeal, and greatness of spirit.
But as I was saying, to whom could I more rightly entrust those things which pertain to me and are mine, after myself, if I had not also known that it was right for them to be entrusted to her while I am still present? And they have been entrusted. She will manage them well and in a manner pleasing to God, possessing authority over all things and the freedom to act according to her will—wholly blameless and above every tribunal—she will accomplish everything in a way that is both profitable and becoming. And she will provide for the inheritances, adhering to my intentions. C First, then, she will be solicitous, as I said, for my soul. And the first fruit of this labor will be for the Mother of God, into whose bosom I was cast from my mother’s womb, and whom I have set as the powerful protectress of my whole life, to whom I shall gladly breathe out my spirit, having surrendered it—though it has been a slave to all malice and wickedness, yet it has preserved a true and evangelical faith, and solely through this and because of the graces received during this life it takes confidence, notwithstanding the wretchedness of my conduct. To Her, and because of Her, I desire to consecrate gold coins . . . [to] the sole temple which we have erected from the foundations. Near this temple I wish my ashes and clay, this wretched body, to be laid to rest, and for that which is impure to be hidden in the pure threshold of the temple—a threshold which, however, nothing ought to touch, since it is a sacrilege for anything impure to touch what is clean, and it would be just for my body to be cast far away and banished, as something useless among the useless and profane among the profane. D And as it lies there, may you call it forth, O most pure Virgin, and Mother of Him who came to seek that which had wandered, who had fallen into all manner of faults and evils, and who had stretched out His hands upon the cross, not only to draw and call back and save the righteous—
(1) Prov. xxxi, 10: “Who shall find a valiant woman? . . . she has sought out wool and flax, and has wrought useful things with her hands; and she rises in the night and has given food to her household and work to her maidservants.”
A And that He might snatch away [the creature] from the hand of the wicked one, and that none of those who were made according to His own image might be lost. He, having stretched out His hands upon the cross, not so that He might call back and save only the just and those who had sinned less, but that He might snatch everyone from the hand of the wicked one, and that not one of those who were made according to His own image might suffer harm. Yes, and call back my dust, which has been corrupted by debaucheries, and receive favorably this soul, stained as it is by these—you see how much—and heal it, and do not turn away from your child the world-saving face of your visitation. For we ought, indeed, with that body by whose blood we were reborn—the blood of Christ—to have preferred to be cast away for our whole life in your house (and this would have been well for us). But since, through the deceptions and machinations of him who deceives and kills, and indeed through a wicked choice, the soul that was created for the divine image preferred to dwell in a sinful tabernacle—I mean this foul tent—and even while living, inasmuch as it was full of every uncleanness, it has now left it here dead, full of stains and cast upon the threshold of your sanctuary; yet you, who are altogether kind, compassionate, merciful, and quick to hear prayers, have pity, therefore, on a profligate soul and body, which have served in strange ways the foulest desires and pleasures. And mix my whole earth, which has been trampled by the wicked Belial and by sins, with the earth of your sanctuary, and save it by the power of this [sanctuary]. And send the soul, wherever you wish through your intercession with the Son (for He is persuaded and listens readily when you intercede), far away from the scourges that remain forever and from the torments that cause eternal suffering.
Nevertheless, since we have prayed for these things—as it is necessary to pray both now and always—and since, from the very many miracles of benefactions which we have experienced throughout our life, we are able to have confidence concerning the future and not to despair of our salvation, allow us now to complete the rest of our valedictory discourse and testament.
What then? Because we have given nothing in return, nor are we able to give anything to our emperors who have given much, even if we were to bring a whole hand full, shall we therefore think that we must abandon everything? But we would rightly be called thoroughly wicked and ungrateful. Whence, even if it is not something worthy or fitting, yet in one way or another a return must be made, for the sake of showing gratitude, in gold coins... and they must be divided equally between the Father and the Emperor, and the Son and the Emperor. D After this, look upon our children, you who are a mother more than all mothers, for you love your children; for we have four sons and two daughters. And the first of these, as a bride to God the King of all, we have willingly and gladly offered and joined. And may it be that she never falls from that divine marriage and bridal chamber, nor loses the splendor from thence!
A We are confident of this from what we see: for her whole soul runs after Him, and her whole heart, struck and wounded by a wondrous love, is firmly attached to Him. It unites with Him and clings to His outstretched right hand, which leads it to eternal rest. To her, who is truly in need of but few things—only those which are necessary for this perishable life—we too have left what is little, granting what seems to us sufficient.
B My most fortunate and happy Empress—by the gift of God, though through the exceeding mercy of Him who reigns through Him—the Emperor himself, God so moving him to do what pleased Him, chose her as a bride for the one of his sons whom he wished, the best and most beautiful. And you yourselves surely see and contemplate with wonder the goodness of her character, by the abundance of which she has drawn my entire love to herself and captivated it. But, O most beautiful union, formed by choice from both sexes of men and women, and most admirable pair, preferred by me not only above all others but above my own spirit and life—because of you, the death that looms over me becomes, after those first great fears, even more piercing and bitter, because I shall no longer see you, nor, if there be anything in Hades that is terrible and unpleasant (or rather, for I know that there will be many and grievous things there in rightful judgment for those who have lived wickedly upon this earth), will you, by coming before my eyes, disperse them, or at least render more light these sad and gloomy things, as you now, in the present, whenever you appear, mitigate and utterly remove all sorrow born of miserable events! Indeed, you calm and extinguish the tumults of the heart, heal wounds, and quiet the turbulence of a suffering soul and its reasonings. What is more stinging than your separation for punishment? How shall I endure, after I have closed my eyes—or rather, after I have lost them entirely—no longer to behold your beauty, the flower of your face, and the splendor of your fortune? Who among you, in the midst of the assemblies, will be the one soothing, consoling, and encouraging the afflicted one, wounded by your separation and by the punishments of the future life? C Alas! A heavy stone will cover me, and the tomb will hide me; and when you, led by love, shall approach and call upon your father with sweet voice, I, empty ash and bones stripped of all flesh and sense—I who now utter so many words—shall neither hear your voice nor your speech, nor shall I be known! But perhaps it is superfluous to dwell upon such things D for, if I believed that he who has died has not died... he would not have uttered such words full of disbelief, "I shall no longer see you."
For if I believed that one who has died has not died, I would not have uttered such words filled with disbelief: "I shall no longer see you." But it is perhaps superfluous to linger on such things, since this is neither a song nor a tragedy, but only a remembrance of death; and to speak briefly, as befits the present matter, things which are necessarily bound to human nature, as it is mortal. Whence, departing from these, may you live for long years, and rejoice, and exult.
A And may you never endure any trial of anything that causes grief, God guiding your life always through more cheerful paths, and providing untainted nourishment, while you walk blameless in His commandments, in His ordinances, and in the precepts which provide light for your paths [(1)] and lead straight to Him; to abide in these always, and never to swerve or be carried away, and in no way to let your feet stumble against a stone—which perhaps harshly wounds the good conscience and thoughts born of a sharp and barren heart [(2)]—is your diligent work, a pursuit placed on the tongues of all and greatly to be admired. And thus we have not only bestowed upon you our love and our whole affection, but have poured out nearly our entire wealth, and you shall lack none of your own; whatever, even the least thing, you may receive from your mother, know that this was so determined by me and accomplished according to my will.
You, however, my firstborn son, B my delight and my ornament, the splendid crown of my glory, who possess a sweet and altogether pleasant aspect, and who arouse ineffable loves in my entire soul and heart, consider, both from afar and right now, what sort of person you might become after me, and how great, grateful at the same time and eager to yield in all things to your mother, and to do what is dear and pleasing to her, being commanded by the laws of God. For you have nothing sufficient at all, nor worthy—neither for the birth pangs I suffered for your sake, nor for the nourishment, nor for the other good things you have enjoyed—to repay it, even if you were to expend your whole self and pour out your life. For what? If you were to repay what you have received—the formation of the body in the mother’s womb, and at the same time the bond of the soul with it, and the birth with such great pains, as Job says [(6)]—and all the other things that followed as you were being nurtured and grown and had reached that age well—and may a deep and fertile old age also meet you, as also a mind, according to our prayers, deep and gray-haired, having sprouted forth beyond everything that is appropriate for the time, and having placed aged understanding in a youthful heart and elderly reflections—if, therefore, you have received both your existence and the good things that have come to you from your mother, from her cares and prayers, what and how much ought to be repaid by you for all these things, so that whatever is fitting might appear to have been repaid by you? Since you cannot, give what you can, that is, honor without measure, but applied with a certain excess; for the more you give [(7)], the more you will gain. C Return to your mother whatever pertains to me, and whatever...
A is owed to both, after my death; B to her, perform sincere gratitude for such great benefits, adding also obedience and the fulfillment of commandments; be always ready to obey such a great and such a pious mother, who loves her children, and from this you will receive the greatest and most abundant profit. It is beautiful for you and very beneficial to revere maternal piety, and to tend to her deep reverence in all things. Do these things; and be to your brothers in place of a father, full of both paternal and fraternal love, having peace with them and with all people, pursuing love in the uprightness of spirit, as God commands. Be a despiser of pride, raising your eyebrows entirely against nothing else, but against it alone, and always fighting nobly against it like an army, so that you may never appear enslaved to it. Abominate injustice with your whole heart and hate it. Keeping and fulfilling these things, live in all good things, and rise above all the machinations of the wicked one, standing higher and more exalted, neither struck nor harmed by his stings. And let no one else harm you, using the guiles and arts of that one, whether he lies in wait openly or harms you obscurely. But remain firm and upright, pressing down and trampling upon that crooked serpent which insinuates and urges crooked things upon you, but also the roaring lion seeking to seize and devour your soul. Love also what you have received as your inheritance, which we have freely bestowed upon you and fully repaid. And now, as a final part, accept and keep another favor—gold coins—or whatever else of our goods is deemed of such value, be content with this.
C But it is time now to turn to you, who are second to me in time, yet hold no less of my affection and love, since you possess no less of the paternal image and what pertains to it. Since, therefore, I am speaking to those who are held in equal honor by me, I direct the same counsels and the same prayers to both, and I wish and pray for you whatever I have said and prayed for him who was born before you. And may you not obtain a lesser portion of things beautiful and good, but may you be superior to everything evil, experiencing nothing of the kind, and may no malice whatsoever overcome or subdue you in any way; but in all virtues may you overcome the inventor and author of malice, and, armed with your mother’s prayers, may you overcome and—whether the enemy attempts by himself or weaves artifices through others—may you stand firm and resilient against his snares! I know that your mother’s fervent faith will help you, D calling upon and presenting God, the strong and omnipotent, as a helper against every opposing power, to whom surely nothing is as pleasing as a son who brings joy to his mother, and who follows her commands in this part of the law, which [you must observe] most diligently.
A And so, while preserving everything that is expected toward a God-loving mother, and while holding fast to God’s grace and my own exhortations, you will be to your mother all that she might desire, yielding and following eagerly. For you this will result in glory before God, but also before all men—especially the pious—and this bright and most beautiful crown of glory will be fitted upon you. You will enjoy the sweet and pleasant fruits of your love even here on earth; but in the future and eternal life, you will enjoy those pure delights such as eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have they entered into the heart of man. As for us, what more could there be for you, who are wise, than what you have already received, and those prayers which we now offer? If something further must be added, we now add this last gift and favor, which is in no way less, but entirely equal to that of the firstborn.
And these things seem good to us. The fourth of the sons remains. B For I willingly passed over the one who is in the middle, the third, since I do not even know what opinion to hold regarding him, or how to classify him, seeing that he has chosen a monstrous confusion and disorder of life in place of that which was formerly orderly, wise, and pleasing to us. Whether [I should classify him] with those who lead the same form of life, to which he willingly gave himself from his youth and in which he still lingers—not in terms of morals, to be sure, but only in appearance and dress, and even that quite unwillingly, as if forced by us for the sake of decency—or [should I classify him] with those places to which his evil and corrupt choice has led him, far, clearly, from God and from every duty? For he approached and ran eagerly to Christ who calls him, and he took up His cross and promised that he would follow Him. Then he limped on the straight paths, and after he had put his hand to the plow of celestial husbandry—which gathers many good things in heavenly barns—he turned back. C Alas! He followed the evil desires and cravings of his heart, and he who had previously chosen to live within the fold of Christ now appears as prey to the evil one; having been cast out from the saving and holy flock, he is all wounded by the scourges and blows of the wicked and treacherous demon, the author of evil, who climbs up into those he is wont to mock not by the door but from elsewhere, by certain precipices. He loves to propose the flight from the good and this miserable choice to us. For we shall not grant him all the power, freeing ourselves entirely of blame. And if we wished to stand firmly in the good, Satan would flee and surely retreat, and would be cast out from behind us D while we stand in the battle line with Christ, who defeated both the whole world and its prince, that tempter.
A Under this Savior and Head, whom I had supposed and trusted that you would serve and conform your life to throughout, and to whom you would direct your course without looking back—trampling upon the head of the serpent, who at the beginning deceived and brought death through the eating of the fruit, and who now tries in such ways to deceive through luxuries, pleasures, and the defeat of the flesh—I see you now (oh, how great and what a kind of evil in my eyes!) being trampled and crushed by his deadly feet. Even if you, having hardened your heart like a stone, feel no affection or contrition, having had your whole mind carried off and miserably stolen, when will you come to your senses, and become master of your own reason and of yourself—you who, while still in your tender years and the first youth following them, understood wisely, but now, seized by dementia, and when it would have been more fitting for you to be freed from ignorance as you entered a more prudent age, have instead run toward worse things into a miserable and unhappy life, while the bitter stings of the enemy, like thorns, are thrust into you? B For such is the lot of those who turn away from Christ; who cast off his light and pleasant yoke, and run toward pathless places, abysses, and uneven paths filled with obstacles—when they should have been walking and advancing upon the land promised in blessings, which leads to the paradise from which we fell, rather than treading and tilling that which was condemned at the curse to bring forth thorns and thistles. Yet I still have hope that you will not, in the end, shame those fine hopes which your mother had for you, and show them to have been in vain. "Return to me, and I will return to you, says the Lord." Return also you, and he will return to you, and he will heal and take away your contrivances, and the wounds born and produced and corrupted from folly. How, then? By pouring oil from above and applying bandages, which will not allow them to withdraw from the good or be broken. And he will shortly heal you, and the morning light will break these darknesses which now encompass you, and will repel and disturb all horror, and healing for your flesh and care for your bones will be given, and to your soul he will say, "I am your salvation," and he will save it. C And then we, father and mother together, tender and gentle, rather than harsh and full of righteous anger, shall be loving children; and as for what concerns you, as you are truly doing penance and returning to your former life beloved by God, we shall be provident, lest through a lack of those things which contribute to the course you be cast down and, being without pain, become neglectful of your duty; and we shall grant what may suffice for you: namely, fourteen talents of gold, equivalent to a thousand gold coins. Such, therefore, we say, will be your portion, if you convert to the good. D
[...together and a mother, and after me again a mother, gentle and kindly, instead of the present chiding and just wrath, we shall be loving parents, and as concerns you, since you have well repented and are returning to your former manner of life which is also pleasing to God—not only that, but also being provident so that you might not, through a lack of the things contributing to the course, encounter hindrance and sloth, and indeed negligence of your striving—we shall supply what is sufficient once and for all: namely, fourteen talents of gold, signifying the counting of a thousand coins. For this, we say, is the portion 1 falling to you, in the event of a return to the good.]
A As for you, who are the last and remaining to me of my children, as I said, my Nicolaus, I know not what or what kind of, fortune awaits you when my life is broken, since you are of such an imperfect age and have not yet finished your adolescence. Your character, already girded for the struggle and promising us good hopes, does indeed give confidence and gives much confidence; but death, which usually comes unexpectedly, frightens me, since we are not certain that we can see tomorrow. But that relates to me; your tender age also leads me to fear, as you are not yet capable of accepting and managing affairs; I fear that perhaps, as you are younger and have lost your father, no one will protect you or stretch out a hand to you, to guide you to better things by words and examples; and then, that nothing of such a good nature may remain for you if hostile fortune lurks in the waves and an evil demon tempts you.
Sed quid mihi hæc sunt? Sis misericors ac benevolus, qui multam in Christo virtutem ac potentiam adeptus es, multa unguenta, multa miracula, sancte ac magne Nicolae, indigentium ardens protector, ad quem ego meum dilectissimum filium ferens, e maternis visceribus ereptum, commisi et consecravi; et multum ideo fiduciæ habui, quod prius maxima ac deinde tuæ erga me bonitatis protectionisque testimonia retuli, etsi ingratus ipse miraculis visus sum, ita ut metuendum potius mihi sit, ne mea improba et prava vita filius non in bonum utatur. Unde et a me ille sejunctus, et tua sola protectione confidens ac vivens et operans, meliora multo quam pro nostris precibus aut voluntate referet. Tunc igitur, qui eum tibi infantulum ut servum acceperis, et nunc, ut ita dicam, tua gratia umeris et a nobis traditum habueris, adjuva eum et libera ab omnibus insidiis, tuisque alis eum obumbrans, ei requiem præbeas sole diei usto, et sagittis in die volantibus vulnerato, neque permittas eum luna per noctem aut a timore nocturno et a qualibet re perambulante in tenebris turbari et capi. Et hoc modo eum ab omni malo immunem serves, vitam ejus in bonis dirigas, eumque quantum licet defendas. Deinde ita per omnem virtutem ductum, te duce, et ductore et protectore, Christo repræsentes in æternum exsultantem et supernæ beatitudinis hæredem constituas. D
From us, however, to you, most beloved son, from our corruptible and earthly goods there shall be given as an inheritance those things which we entrusted to the Mother, being equal and equivalent to those which were given to the brothers both before and now, in their final state. And therefore, to speak in few words, whatever you are to receive from her, believe that this is what was intended by us as well. But since these things have been addressed to you, and I have no one else whom I need to address, I turn myself back to you all and I say: Have, most beloved children, my final exhortation and counsel, and guard well for me this beautiful deposit. Have also the inheritances, which are not altogether ignoble, nor the vilest of gifts, and be content with those things which each of you has obtained, seeking nothing more, and claiming for yourselves nothing more. Have also our prayers, and live according to them, and may you attain all that is contained in them, and may you fall short of none of them. And may you always enjoy this joy both in the present time and in the future, in Christ who reigns eternally and sincerely, through the intercession of his most pure and immaculate Mother, of the divine angels, the venerable apostles, the martyrs, the hierarchs, Saint Nicholas, and indeed all the saints. A B
EDICT ON THE GREAT AND FINAL FEAST OF THE WHOLE MYSTERY CONCERNING CHRIST
Of Him, indeed, from whence He also descended and ascended again into heaven with the flesh He took from the holy Virgin, and of this most holy Mother of His, that which is now being celebrated, in the manner in which it pleased Him that she should pass over into Him. The edict, therefore, wills that this feast should not be celebrated for one single day only, according to the ancient custom that prevailed, but that it should begin from the very beginning and first day of the month to which this mystery is assigned, and continue until the very end, and conclude there where the month also concludes.
How marvelous are those things which are beyond all life, which the Mother of God perpetually [towards the race of men, miraculous things and…]
A confers on all men who clearly understand them, and all who undertake to confess and proclaim such things are of good intent. For there is no one possessing sense and reason who does not vehemently desire this. Yet all know well and truly that it is above every virtue and nature of speech to speak fittingly of this, or to be able to render a comparable gratitude, however zealous they may be; not only if each one strives to compose such things with his own voice and tongue, but even if all who now are and all who have lived in the past were to convene in one place—nay, not even if there were one lip and one mouth with which all might break forth into one voice, not even then could they, by such a fitting symphony, reach this sublime confession of such magnificent miracles, which, transcending all things, can in no way be reduced to infirmities. Therefore, the whole nature of men is truly inferior and powerless for the investigation of this virtue, so as to be able to speak anything worthy of such and so many benefits; but it would also be powerless even if it were to receive the very tongues of Angels and Archangels, or any other spirits accustomed to the perpetual praises of God, and were to receive and fill them with dense songs of thanksgiving: for the excellence and sublimity of the miracles that have been wrought for us and that are performed to this day astound not only men but also the celestial powers. B
Yet we firmly and fully believe and are confident that these things must always be celebrated in order. Therefore, so that we may begin our discourse incidentally and opportunely from that which was in the beginning: man, formed by the hand of God, became a partaker of the divine image, and was thence crowned with honor above all visible creatures, endowed with so much the greater glory and beauty the more highly the word of his formation was raised, since he received the means to preserve the image he bore, had he taken care to guard the commandments. But after he was stripped by pleasure, and, disregarding the commandments, gave credence to the deceivers: he fell immediately from that place where he had been established in pleasure and the enjoyment of many great goods, and at the same time lost his merit C entire.
Epigrams on the Dormition of the Theotokos
— α'. You live even after dying; living, you give birth, O Virgin. You cradled me before with your hands, O Virgin; I drew maternal milk from your breast. My spirit now I, the same who was cradled, receive. I send the body to the place of pleasure. — β'. I place the poles for you from the earth, and I for you place the pole from the earth, O Mother Virgin.
D
A and he turns again to the earth, crushed by sin, neither having kept what he was, nor having become that for which he was being instructed and called to a better and higher estate. And he indeed perished in this way, falling away from God and the divine portion; but He [God], in turn, wishes to draw him to Himself. He desires this, and considers the magnitude of His philanthropy. He does not disdain to empty Himself entirely for us, and indeed to carry those who have fallen and to take up those who are lying prostrate, not only [restoring us] to what we once were, but restoring us—saving us again—to that for which He had originally brought us forth, so that we might no longer be plotted against by the envious foe, nor fall, nor again become useless.
God wills these things, and at once He looks toward His Mother, who was to be in the final times, having chosen her from all generations for Himself, even before He arranged the whole universe. And thus this mystery of God becomes, so to speak, hidden before all creation; then, being typified and receiving shadows throughout the generations, it brings salvation there where, evidently, its type or certain shadow was shown. And this is evident to one who considers everything.
C For Israel was enslaved in Egypt and tyrannized by Pharaoh, afflicted with bitter pressures and worn down by the weight of labors, and indeed dragged down to those very extremes that the Scriptures and the histories of the ancients report concerning him. But Moses arises, zealous for the suffering, and he flees Egypt and nears God. And he sees that great and marvelous vision: fire in the bush, fire burning and in no way consuming, because He who from that [bush] later called him did not, upon entering the Virgin, either destroy her virginity nor obscure it in the least. And then Moses hears that he is treading on holy ground, and he is commanded to loosen the sandals of his feet, and he loosens them and puts them aside. For what reason? Because it is not permitted, perhaps, for anything dead to touch the place where the presence of God is, and the type of Eden the incorruptible, to which He who then appeared promises that He will again settle us, and gives the symbols. Or perhaps He commands that everything which, as a remedy for the weak flesh, He adjusted against sin be cast off, and that we, with our feet bare henceforth, might boldly tread upon the serpents and the head of the dragon who, by deceiving us, had made us captive. Moses saw these things and is assured of the freedom of Israel from this point, and goes forth encouraged by the power of the vision, having learned from it also the common freedom of all men, just as from the tyranny of Pharaoh then [He delivered] Israel, He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant.
A Thus, in the last days, He was pleased to deliver us from the bitter tyrant, who is Satan, by being born for us of a Virgin. And indeed, as I said, He saves those who are enslaved there as well, and the character of this saving mystery and the symbols of those who were later saved release us from the heavy hand of the Egyptians.
Yet, the Egyptians attempt again to pursue those who were fleeing servitude; they came running after them with all their horses and chariots, striving to charge upon them. And they would soon have overtaken and captured them, leading them back into a new and more bitter slavery, had not the cloud, pouring around them, saved them—the cloud, that is, which overshadowed them throughout the day and hid them. The cloud is a manifest symbol, just as the fleece of Gideon was. That fleece showed the life-giving rain falling from heaven for us who were parched and almost dead; but the cloud signifies the Virgin, who is provided to us as a shelter, B more vast than the whole earth and all the heavens.
But why, truly, was the Red Sea exalted in miracles and did it save the chosen people for God, while it submerged the might of Pharaoh and the Egyptian princes? How could it have worked such great things, if not because it plainly pointed to Her, who was the end of the promises that Abraham received, and through whom was made the multiplication of the seed of Abraham, which is multiplied, born of her, regenerating the whole world and gathering all into itself, while He Himself gathers the true children of Abraham?
Then the rock produces water—a most great miracle—and scatters streams on all sides which flow into continuous rivers; and the people, scorched by thirst in the desert, drink until they are satisfied. C But the rock is a part of the mountain that holds the type of the Virgin, from whom Christ proceeded, the Corner-Stone and the vital Rock; for He gathered us who were far from God and established us in an unbreakable bond with Himself, and He gave us to drink of the water flowing from Himself and springing up into life that will never fail.
What more? They suffer hunger in the deserts, which is the most bitter pain; they are incited to anger again against Moses, who, not at all terrified by the tumult that had arisen, said to them: "For if, when he struck the rock, water flowed, shall He not also be able to give bread?" He who produced food for them not from the earth, and who is able to bring forth bread even from stones, having changed His power into a new miracle—whence, therefore, did He feed them? He satisfied them from the heavens, then showing [that He was] D steadfast.
A And those who had lost hope of bread ate manna, a certain new food, and one far more precious than what was sought, being at once abundant and easy to obtain for all who wished to collect it. For it was permitted to take not only as much as was sufficient for their need, but also to possess an excess—even if the surplus was otherwise useless—evidently another miracle, banishing greed and at the same time correcting unbelief, in case they should store up the excess in order to have it again when the gift failed, trusting in their foresight B rather than in the Giver who was always able to provide abundantly. For some, then, this food strengthened the heart, so that they no longer distrusted Him in any of their needs, as if He would not happen to be [there] for them when they turned to God and genuinely called upon Him, just as evidently Moses, that great servant of His, having become genuine toward Him, called upon Him with boldness and immediately had all things responding to his requests. It strengthened not only the people of that time, but also all those who followed, not to distrust at all that the Bread of Life will come down to us from the heavens, and one providing eternal delight. And so, the golden jar is established and receives the manna, C and it brightly bears within itself the image of what is to come.
But consider with me also the tablets and the divinely written law upon them, which offers help not only to those outside—as if it were a savior for bodies in danger—but which indeed also reaches souls and guides them, and rescues them from every shaky opinion about God. Behold these things, then, and, while paying close attention in your mind to what is seen, learn of the Word who is subsistent, written by the finger of God, by the divine Spirit, in the Virgin, and who, though emptied from the Father’s bosom, did not depart from it, but remaining in it and filling all things, became capable of being contained D in the mother’s bosom, and in this way to save the whole world and deliver souls held fast in the darkness of ignorance and the shadow of death.
Nevertheless, these things are so; and thus, from the beginning, the events concerning the Mother of God, coming through many and great symbols, you will find everywhere and in every way to contain a power of supernatural miracles, and at the same time the salvation of those in extreme danger. And the discourse leaves off from detailing the majority [of them], because it is not even natural—not to say through all of them (for this is more than anything impossible), but not even to reach enough of them to be able to recount them; for how could one, seeing that even these...
A of which I have made mention were not recorded by us in order to pick out a few from the many, but that we might merely touch upon them and point out the lesson, which is evidently that the types and shadows of those things which were later to be revealed and shown brightly without any veil upon the Virgin were essentially present everywhere. Since, however, the types have passed away and the shadows have receded, and the truth has clearly come among men, bearing a glory for the Virgin that obscures all the heavens and far surpasses all the celestial brightnesses, and which itself transcends the Seraphim and Cherubim, what discourse or what tongue could suffice to narrate the multitude of such and so great infinite and fearful wonders? I, therefore, fear lest this also become an accusation against me, bringing responsibility if I should approach the God-receptive ark—not merely with hands, but with impure lips—while that B miracle of old is set before me, by which I am admonished that those who are not without spot are forbidden to dare to approach even the shadows of the ark. And I seemed to hear from God himself: "Why, not having purged your defilements with the saving coal, as Isaiah did, nor having relieved your tongue of the weight of the evils which entangle it, do you dare to recount wonders to which even the nature of the angels is unequal, which halts in ignorance, understanding the height thereof?"
Terrified by these thoughts, I cannot proceed further. But since I have been saved by thee, O Mother of God, and, when I had fallen, was raised up by thee, and, when I was broken, was restored—could I, having finally attained some power of speech and been permitted to emit some voice, not endeavor to speak? I will by no means be silent about the mystery of salvation, but as far as I am able, I will proclaim it. C
He who from the beginning committed error and apostatized from God held us as slaves under his yoke; he provoked with temptations those of us who were to be heirs of that glory from which he himself fell and was torn away, and, precipitating us into passions because of his ancient rebellion, bound us as if with inextricable shackles, so that we might not, once freed from his tyranny, be able to return to the Lord; and having established death as our guardian, he shut us away in Hades and secured us under the gates of darkness. And we, sadly serving his tyrannical power, and not even moved by the great evils in which we were involved, rejoiced in our ruin and gloried in the passions that were dragging us even to death, worthy of mercy because of our error and such great dejection. And who were they who were suffering such things? D Those bearing the image of God, lying most miserably in slavery and under the tyranny of the enemy, and yet more miserable because of their insensibility, in that, abandoning the Creator, they surrendered themselves to the enemy, who, holding them with a hard hand, [followed]
A dragged them joyfully into hell, which is his own dwelling.
Yet he could not entirely abandon those whom he had fashioned with his own hands, bestowing upon them his own image and glory. Therefore, he neither abandoned nor removed the creatures whom we speak of as being destined for the servitude of death, while he had not only made them free, but had even set them above all things that are on the earth. He came, however, to them and rescued them from the powerful one, dissolving his potency and dissipating the shadow of ignorance in which he had wrapped us, deceived and wandering as we were. But how did he come? For my whole discourse tended hither, just as all the figures, and all symbols, and all the prophecies of old are fulfilled here, having one end, the Virgin. For the Word of God himself, who is before all ages, descending into her—who was pure and blameless, and henceforth in a way worthy B of him who was coming—is made flesh for our sake. Taking this flesh from her immaculate and most pure blood, and taking the whole nature which had been corrupted in the image of God, he mingled with it and fashioned it anew through this union, saving his own once again for himself, and reclaiming those who had been cast away by sin.
Such is the order of our salvation: such is the mystery, tremendous and great, which was of old prefigured, announced beforehand, and spoken of by the prophets: God indeed made man in order to save man; God incorporated and formed in the womb of a Virgin, and accepting a temporal generation, seen and carried as a child in the arms of his mother, he who fills all things and is nowhere contained by any place C at all. At these things, which of the angels, which of the archangels, were not struck with amazement? Which seraphim, which cherubim did not marvel, beholding such an emptying of God, and together with it such an exuberance of God’s love, and the super-eminence of his excellent goodness? Consequently, all the powers of the heavens burst forth more readily into hymns, and recognized together with us that the Virgin is to be blessed by all generations, both on account of those great and supernatural things which were bestowed upon her, and because through her it was given to us to receive from above our common liberty, and at the same time on account of the other benefits which she has never ceased, and never will cease, to perform for us in superabundant measure. For she takes us in, as if we were the proper hereditary family of her own Son, redeemed by his blood from a miserable and most vile servitude; she has D done these things for our sake, and continues to do them, with which our whole life is filled, as they are always being accomplished in outstanding ways.
Since, then, he who first rose up against our liberty and miserably took it away from us, defiling our entire dignity, does not even now cease to plot against these subsequent and most precious goods that adorn us, bringing us closest to glory, by no other means, O Virgin, shall we escape his manifold snare—
A or rather, we find in you, O Virgin, a champion and a strong protector, warding off his onslaughts from every side. For he stirs up a twofold war: one by wounding our very souls and secretly plotting against them, the other by casting them toward external things and, in these things, openly fulfilling his envy and malice. You, however, are a powerful ally against both wars, providing aid to all, not only wishing to assist, but also being easily able to do so. It is for this reason that you help by standing in front and fighting on our behalf, and, even before we have clearly perceived the evils bearing down upon us, you turn them aside and render them ineffective. B And not only this, but even if we do nothing to oppose his plots, and instead join him—falling, as it were, into voluntary evils (for he, having taken hold of those who are willingly ruined, leads them at will toward whatever he wishes; yet he wishes and leads them by force toward the worst things)—God is indeed indignant with us, and, fueled by righteous wrath, wills to exact the just penalties due. But you forestall this, coming forward as a mediatrix, bending Him with maternal prayers and rights. For, extending your prayers beyond your own rights, you remind Him that He shared in your nature, that you carried Him in your womb, that you nourished Him with your breasts and gave Him milk to drink, and that you even waited to behold the end of His passion, standing by the cross where He was dying, yourself enduring everything that He, for the sake of us who are guilty and condemned, endured to release us from judgment. Thus, you cause Him to be turned, O pious negotiator; moreover, you grant that we find God not merely not angry, but even affectionate and piling blessings upon us; C and you grant that we receive from Him benefits and gifts, instead of the evils we were about to receive and the just penalties we ought to have paid. For there is absolutely nothing, once you desire it for our benefit, that you cannot obtain from God; indeed, you can do all things certainly, and you grant them much more and more easily than we could perhaps even hold in our prayers. Therefore, you appear to forestall our petitions, and we ask for all things of which we stand in need as if having already received them, since they come to us through you even before our requests. And so, when we make wrong choices regarding useful things, and likewise wrongly intend and act, you yourself set these matters right and manage them for the best, and in this you most especially display the treasure of your goodness; because, regarding those things which we neither ponder nor ask for, or even when we desire and aim at the worse things, you violently snatch us away from them, or even cause them to turn out greatly to our advantage, when there can truly be profit in them. You draw us, as if unwilling, into this path by your benevolence, and later, having gained understanding and knowledge, we cherish the power by which we entered into the experience of the good. Thus, you snatch us from vices, driving them far away, so that we do not first stumble into them when a danger of falling suddenly impends; and if by chance we have fallen, you reform the ruin and destruction, and if any of these things have powerfully prevailed, you, having experienced our trust, both clearly reveal the danger and offer the most effective remedy. D
For if we place our whole hope in you alone—O immense, greatest, and omnipotent power! O fervent remedy! O swiftest evacuation of evils!—you immediately raise us up, though we were lying as if dead and, save for a few faint breaths, had entirely ceased to live. You put to flight incurable diseases and resolve powerful sufferings to which all others are in no way equal. Hence we, who sat in the evening in the house of weeping, have come again in the morning, rejoicing in exultation, and we rejoice with a double joy: both because not even one of the impending evils could truly prevail over us in the end, and because, having received salvation through you, we have been enabled to trust without doubt that nothing from without can ever do us harm, while we hold full faith in you.
And indeed, these things happen to everyone both in common and according to the time, so to speak. But how could I sufficiently express those things which have happened to me in a more excellent way? Time would fail me in the telling; not because I have only one tongue, but even if I could divide it into a thousand parts, so that one part might proclaim one thing and another something else, it would not suffice. B Besides, that these things clearly differ for each person, there is, I think, no one at all who holds a double opinion on this. For both the pattern and the reason of the principle encompass everyone, as does my own temperament. And you certainly know that I am distressed for everyone who has met with misfortune, and conversely, I again rejoice if someone is released, having fared well and been deemed worthy of divine providence. For this reason, it is just for me more than everyone else to confess to the Mother of God, or rather, as much as common gratitude for what I have said, and for many other things (for who could say how great and how many they are!), is a necessary obligation for all, this for me comes not only as a whole, but with far greater addition; and if it is not C according to merit, at least to pay what is possible, this I myself would not be ungrateful not to do. As my heart is dilated, my mouth will reasonably be dilated as well, applying itself to thanksgiving as much as is possible, since in how many pressing miseries have I found this: a clear breadth of soul and dilatation of heart.
You have magnified us, and from our very swaddling clothes D you have raised us to this throne and this high lot, which is superior to all others, and you have always guided our life through happier things. This was your will from the beginning, and we would thus, staying with the good side and the left...
A, never have been troubled in any way, had we not followed our own will and not followed the desires of our hearts. But since, turning away from the straight path of good things, we have turned ourselves to things that were not appropriate, painful afflictions have with good reason come upon us. Having therefore been shut in as by certain bolts of my own despair, crushed by adversities and suffering, and having no hope of redemption from any quarter, we receive you yourself, fighting in all our difficulties and shattering our misfortunes, since you possess the governance of all these things, and you grant us to make progress in favorable matters, and to experience those same things that were previously adverse to become happier thereafter.
Now, however, the structure of our discourse has reached the point B where we might best set forth each of the very clear miracles accomplished for our aid and for the putting to flight of those countless enemies attacking us from all sides (how could I even number them?). For they rise up in dense throngs from the entire earth; others rise up, seizing the opportunity from our own impiety, while others attack us because of a certain utility in our affairs (though these things are entirely gifts bestowed upon us by your grace); for our goods and our happiness move them to sadness. If, therefore, they attack separately, causing little disturbance and plotting less, it might perhaps not be a difficult task for us to resist those rising up. But when sometimes they all pour around someone and attack, and exert force from every side; and at the same time, since no preparation for these battles is better than watchfulness and meditation, they especially subvert our wills and corrupt our thoughts C—who in these extreme straits will act for us and turn all things to the better? Who, in the midst of the various and manifold and most grievous battles that we endure for our peace, will truly rout our enemies, as we were saying? Who will station himself as a guardian for us, even as we sleep, always vigilant, preventing the onrushing evils with persevering cares? Who will stand as an iron wall around us, and shatter the bows that are bent and the swords that are drawn as they strike, and avert all plots from us? Who, again, will whip Egypt, striking the firstborn, bringing about plagues set in number, drowning Pharaoh, casting down the pride of the nations, and thus saving Israel, his own chosen portion? Who (so that I may not lengthen the speech by speaking of each one) is the one who works these many great D powers? And who are we, for whom so many and such great miracles have been performed? Revolving these things in my mind, I said: "You have turned away from us, and will not again look upon us with mercy." But you said: "Far be it that I should abandon you or that I should ever forsake you: nor will I take away my mercy from you on account of the Virgin Mother, who with her fervent prayers implores my compassion..."
A Therefore, you do not forsake us, but rather you renew and multiply even now, as the ages slip away, those things which have been celebrated from ancient times as innumerable, so that your mighty hand may be glorified no less, but rather even more now than of old. We, therefore, are a people of mercy, having the Virgin as our patroness and advocate for the sake of piety.
B Being such, it is fitting for you, whether you who live now or those who shall be in future times until the end (for wonders will lack for no men, not more for you than for us), to offer all things to God and all fruits of our works, with not one of those things which we possess being reserved, since nothing is our own, but we have received all that we offer. Give, therefore, the whole, and if not the whole, at least so much that you do not appear unmindful of the debt of gratitude. But the present word does not mean only this, but intends another way of approaching God. And what is that way? Namely, that all should pay hymns and thanksgivings, each giving what they can, especially through every span of time, since we receive benefits at every moment of life unceasingly. And now, since this whole matter is dedicated to your instruction, we know and understand perfectly well that the decree of the feast must be handed down by us.
C Indeed, that month is already at hand in which is declared the divinely accomplished mystery of the death in the Virgin, or of her translation, or her sojourn in the heavens with her Son, or whatever other name one might care to give this feast; and we, according to a custom established of old, celebrate the feast D on one of the days in the middle of this month, having first been sanctified by fasting on the days which precede it. And I, while praising and approving the law of fasting, do not consider it a great thing that only one day was appointed for the feast for nocturnal psalmody. But I believe that one day of the festival is to be observed, holding a middle place among all those from the beginning of the month down to the one which is to be celebrated more excellently at the end; and indeed, I wish to legislate this law for the present time. And everyone will surely call the law just, anyone who understands even the slightest thing.
A regarding the extent to which we are debtors to the Virgin to sing hymns to her unceasingly, and at the same time one who understands the grandeur of the feast.
Therefore, as I have said, there will not be one beginning for the month and another for the festival, nor shall we be more afflicted by fasting than we shall be delighted by hymns; but both of these shall occur together, and the festival shall be in fact all the more extended and further along, and it will cease there where the whole month itself ceases, so that it may be, so to speak, one entire holy month, and indeed one and the same. And just as we understand the first day of the month, and two other days—I mean the first days of the feast and the fast—to exclude none of the subsequent days, nothing from this [period] in which the mystery is expressed, and certainly nothing from the last day either, for the sake of the hymns and the other things that pertain to the festival, because these things are observed in all of them with equal devotion. And what I say concerning the first day shall be understood of the remaining days according to the established rite. For my law does not wish to separate these many and various days, dividing the feast, but rather that there should be one manner of one single festival, which this leading city, far excelling the others, will always observe with the greatest care, being under the protection of its patroness; and it divides the feast by choirs, for the monks and for the priests, and not indeed for others of every condition (for common thanks must be given for common benefits). B Therefore, the festival will be celebrated by keeping vigil among prayers and hymns in one of the temples; first, indeed, before the others, in that temple conspicuous for its frequent miracles, which from another prodigy is called "of the Hodegon"; and secondly in another temple, and in order in others. But that which we call the middle of the month, and which we know signifies the fullness of the mystery, will be celebrated there, where, as in a terrestrial firmament or a second heaven, in that temple, I say, which—if one were pleased to call it sublime, great, and greatest among all—would not be far from the truth, since in it dwells the wisdom of God; and the solemnity which is kept for the end of the month and is to be the last will be splendidly received by the most brilliant temple that is in Blachernae. C
[Epigrammatic verses]
1. The heavens possess the ether, the stars, the moon, the light-bearer; The temple possesses the Savior, the angels, the Mother, the friends. What equality toward these things, what comparison? You have found defeat, O heaven, yet you worship. 2. Christ descends into the temple, and the pole— He has turned the house into heaven. 3. A better contention? The heaven with its stars Was defeated. Aether glistening toward the heights Into this house! As the house was displayed, master, Even if only a gleam was extinguished, just as a lamp, More beautiful than the heavenly bodies. 4. Shining stars and the moon, O Heaven, And you bear [them], I know, O most radiant one. But when this Choir and golden vault I behold, "Small," I say, "You shine, both you and the sun." To the temple of the most holy Theotokos: O Virgin, universal Queen, your house is heaven, Bringing first to the earth the things of the celestial chambers. This [temple] leads one there; but you, O Virgin, Hold on earth the ladder leading from the vault of heaven. D
A But as for us, having thus learned to honor the feast, or rather to sanctify ourselves by this manner during more of the days—is there anyone who does not welcome the decree, or who does not wish it to be considered excellent, and who does not at once rouse his soul toward the hearing of it, being eager to run and to accomplish everything, so far as it pertains to him, for the festival? I for one do not think so; but on the contrary, that for many, as the festival-lover might say, and one well-considered regarding the present, the payment of debts is small or none at all. And at the same time, he will say that this manner does not draw us along more as if we were being deemed worthy of certain great things. Of what things, then? Of communion with God, of the fellowship of angels singing with us, of the harmony of apostles celebrating with us, and of all the most excellent things, as many as the spiritual Word knows to come together for such as these. B And to say why not longer—perhaps someone might say—shall we not partake of these good things of life always, if it were possible, though we shall restrict in such a short time the duration of the feast, as if begrudging ourselves greater enjoyment? We ourselves knew this, and the idea of extending the festival for the longest time was much in our minds, but we relaxed it again for the sake of the many, so that all might be inflamed, as it were, with one and the same fervor of zeal, and might feel the same thing, and thus more easily be directed by one law. For if it were necessary to exhaust treasures or to undergo labors for which great strength must be exerted by one who was unequal to such a task, he might justly complain that he could not. But now none of these things is the case; C rather, as we said, it is offered as a participation in blessing, delight, and a radiant festival, which, if neglected, is a sign not only of laziness, but also of a mind not rightly disposed, and of ignorance of those things by which one arrives at perfection without toil. But if, as certainly appears, a multitude of labors must be undertaken, upon what would one sweat with better right and with more profit than upon this, in which one will progress most according to the degree in which he has striven with zeal and exertion? For if we see some people enduring beyond measure, willingly, in the most trivial and base affairs, in which the hope of gain entirely softens the sense of grief and the pain of toil, how will those not be worthy of blame whom only a recalcitrant will turns away from the festive solemnity! D And I do not say this because I think that anyone at all ought to fall away from the whole feast out of a sluggish soul, for I do not think that any of you all has come to such a degree of thoughtlessness, nor, again, would choose as if in a state of deadness to be insensitive to every good thing, so as to flee the festival entirely out of torpor and complete immobility; but that [not to attend] through the whole, or, at any rate, not to strive to arrive through the greater part, this is what the present decree intends to hold as a cause for blame, and as a crime for the future for those who have been sluggish. And perhaps it even threatens indignation, not less for these than for those who at the supper in the Gospel
A were called, and then made excuses for various reasons: the inspection of a field, the marriage of a wife, or the testing of five yoke of newly purchased oxen. For just as there is no reasonable excuse for those, so neither is there here, even if one were to offer up any reason that he deemed sufficient; for nothing is more useful, nor more apt, not only to draw one back but to urge one forward more strongly, than to be invited and persuaded by one's own sense to celebrate the festival. For what could ever be more honorable than this, or what could yield greater benefit? Or when, in all things, shall that which is useful and that which is pleasant coincide in equal measure? Therefore, let the gain of all those things to which you would apply yourself affect you—gain that is greater and by far more excellent—even if you are not able to behold what is invisible and look only at the pleasure and beauty of those things which are visible: seeing the choirs of priests, the assemblies of monks, and other multitudes singing the praises of the Virgin; the legitimate order of all these; their gravity; and their imitation of the heavenly B hosts. And what excessive pleasure is lacking, or who, having turned away from such sights and sounds as these—which fulfill the praises and adorn the festival—would love other things more, as if they were something bright, to which one would gladly attend, rather than this? No one at all.
For the rest, what more shall I say? Come, therefore, and partake of the festival continuously, so that you may fulfill what is fitting for it; be purified by fasting, cleansed by temperance, and sanctified by prayers: let all things be spiritual for you, since the feast itself is spiritual. And if you wish, imitate David, who led the choirs of dancers, and leapt before the ark, and danced in exultation. And even if you are at the ends of the earth, run along with the apostles; for I am certain that they are invisibly present, and pouring forth abundant hymns, just as once, suddenly, they all arrived from the ends of the earth, having flocked together to perform the funeral chants for the Virgin. Do not be left behind by the leaders, nor abandon the choir, lest you approach the bridal house when it is already shut, C and while the holy mysteries are being celebrated within, you stand outside knocking and lamenting that you are excluded from the joy. Come, then; contend the good contest, run ahead of the others, and, being well-taught of the loss, approach again to see the Mother of God.
If, when something of those things which shine differently—though they are not truly useful, but on the contrary are quickly corrupted—is proposed for participation under a certain guise of honor and goodness, you cannot but D be among the first to partake, then how would you not hold back from being the first to join those who, with hymns and illumination, worthily and piously bear the body of the Virgin to the tomb, when the door has been closed? [alt-version omitted]
A Was it for one to hasten to receive a share, and then to yield to another the chance to anticipate him, though the gain is far more precious? May this certainly not be so, O lover of God and lover of the festival, you who are a true judge of good things; rather, being perceptive of the present, understand quickly what is being accomplished.
Now there is a common festival for those in heaven and those on earth. Now angels, descending from above, mingle with us men; now men, advancing to the same place, meet with the angels and, united as it were in a single chorus, sing with melodic voices, praising the Virgin. Now, too, Christ, becoming present in the midst of those celebrating, returns to the Virgin the recompense—a thing than which nothing more magnificent can be said—through blessings. Now God himself, coming down from heaven, calls for his Mother, and having received her all-holy soul into his arms, carries it up to heaven, with angels escorting her and filling the air with praises. Now the Virgin is removed from us as to her body, but she does not depart; rather, she guards us from above, looking down through all eternity. Now it is time for us, too, letting go of all other things, to devote ourselves entirely to her festival, acclaiming, singing, giving thanks, and fulfilling all that is our duty to the best of our ability. And indeed, so it shall be.
But do you, Mother of God, receive us graciously and, mindful of your accustomed pity, turn away the enemies who strike at us secretly, so that by no means may we suffer harm or damage from their snares. Turn away also those who fight us openly, and show at all times that the things which they devise and plan against us are vain, as they rise up against us continuously and from every side. Break the bow that is stretched out against us, and turn back the sword that is wielded against those who wield it. Stand by us as our constant champion and patron, extending your mighty hand to crush the heads of our insolent enemies, whom you see puffed up beyond measure by their malice and pride. Behold, we come to you not on chariots, nor on horses, nor with sword and bows; we put no trust at all in any such things. For all these are small and worthless; whatever and however many things one may say, they are plainly useless to those who are not girded with the firmest hope in your help. And we, putting our fullest trust in you, shall never be cast down by them, nor shall we appear vanquished. Grant, therefore, that we may constantly and splendidly celebrate this feast at every appointed time, and through it, grant that we may pass into the eternal feast throughout all ages.